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leahsgf · 2 days ago

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— SUPERSTAR

leah williamson x teen!reader | masterlist

⤷ you finally get called up to the senior squad - only to feel completely out of your depth when you get there

୨୧

you hadn’t spoken an awful lot since arriving at camp. in fact - apart from the expected, friendly hello’s and the odd word uttered in the heat of a drill, you hadn’t said anything. certainly not because you didn’t want to - everybody had been exactly as you had expected, incredibly welcoming and kind - but more so because you didn’t know how.

this was the lionesses. the team you’d dreamt of playing for ever since you were a little girl, and the only girl on your school team. even back then, when you were combining football boots and princess dresses- this had always been your goal, one that you had pushed yourself to your absolute limits to reach, and you’d finally made it - against all odds.

except - you had spent so long trying to make it that you never considered what what happen if, when you did. and even now that you were here, you weren’t entirely sure that you belonged, or deserved it.

everywhere you looked, no matter where you were, in every training session, every team meeting, even in the physio’s office - there were world class players, who worked and gelled together perfectly, whilst laughing and joking like a family. they belonged here, they had history here.

and whilst you were expecting to feel like an outsider when you weren’t in the team - nothing could’ve prepared you for feeling it whilst you were in the team. a moment that you had worked your entire life for, that should be like a dream come true - instead feeling like you had been catapulted into the deep end with no armbands as everyone watched you drown from the sidelines.

as well as you thought you had hidden your inner turmoil, people noticed. in fact, most of the girls did - being naturally all very overprotective of the younger ones (even the ones who struggled to make eye contact with any of them and barely uttered a hello. especially those ones)

leah had been the first by miles to pick up on your quietness. as the captain, she was almost annoyingly observant, and over the span of a few days had realised that it may be a little bit more going on with you than just the expected shyness - something that sitting next to you at breakfast, or passing to you a tad more in training could resolve. she picked up on all of your behaviours, even the ones you hadn’t realised yourself. when you hung back from the group as they walked in from the field, when you bit your lip and hesitated before speaking, your voice cracking softly when you did so, every time you forced a smile, whilst peeling the skin off your fingers and looking like you were on the verge of tears.

she saw it all - every time.

so when you silently disappeared from training, it wasn’t at all shocking that leah was the first to notice.

“anyone seen y/n?” she frowned as she frantically scanned the pitch, it deepening as you were nowhere to be seen.

“she was in the gym inside last time i saw her, maybe she’s still there?” mary replied, mirroring her captain’s expression, as she took a swig of her drink.

the blonde nodded and turned on her heel after promising mary she’d keep her updated on your whereabouts. completely unbeknownst to you - you were a common conversation point within the more senior members of the team, all of them wanting to help you feel like you were welcome and at ease there.

as she made her way towards the gym - worries swirled around her head. something didn’t sit quite right with her about your absence. you were always visibly nervous, you had been since you arrived, but above that you were diligent, never one to miss drills or slip away like this unnoticed. and you had been extra tense all morning - something she had intended to pull you aside to check in about, having not said a word the entire day, only giving out a few tight lipped smiles and nods.

her concerns only deepened as she entered the near silent gym - and realised it was empty. usually, she would be celebrating an empty gym, making the most of it before the chaos that was the rest of the team arrived - but this was a different kind of feeling. one that made her stomach tighten.

she saw an awful lot of herself in you, and that paired with the little bits of information sarina had been allowed to tell her about your background, made her feel the need to be overly protective over you - in an almost older sisterly way.

leah continued to make her way across the room, leaning to check the gaps in between machines and past the stretching mats - just in case.

just as she was about to leave and call for whoever you call when your nineteen year old teammate vanishes into thin air - she heard it. short, uneven, almost gasped breaths, and muffled sniffles, getting louder the further she went.

she found you curled up, practically in a ball against the furthest wall - hidden away, your knees to your chest, and your hands trembling, gripping the cuffs of your sleeves in a somewhat attempt at grounding yourself.

and she could physically feel the way her heart clenched.

“hey, hey” she said softly, practically a whisper, crouching down a comfortable distance away from you, wanting nothing more than to pull you into her arms - but not wanting to startle or upset you even further. “it’s okay, you’re okay.”

your head snapped up at her words, like a deer in headlights - your teary eyes widening, filled with panic. “oh god i-i’m so sorry, i just-”

“you don’t have to apologise, not at all.” she interrupted your ramble - voice gentle. “can i sit?”

you hesitated, before giving a small nod, so small in fact that if her eyes weren’t currently piercing through you, she probably would’ve missed it. she shifted so she was sat cross legged in front of you - a little bit closer but still giving you space.

and for a brief moment, the only sound was your shaky breathing.

“do you wanna tell me what’s going on? i’m here to listen.” she asked, breaking the silence - no pressure behind her words, just simply opening the door for you.

“i- i just….don’t think i fit here, at all” you admitted through choked sobs, sniffling softly - your voice barely audible. “everyone here is incredible - and i’m not good enough, i- i thought i could do it but i can’t. and w-what if i mess up, and everyone realises it too?”

leah exhaled softly - her heart breaking at your words. “oh mate. i get it, trust me. i really do.” she murmured, her expression warm as she made eye contact with you for the first time.

she shifted so she was sat beside you now, looping an arm around your shoulder and easing you into her side gently.

you frowned to yourself, looking up at her through blurry eyes. “but, no. you’re- you’re leah williamson. you’re the captain, one of the biggest players in our game. you’re meant to be here - you are a huge part of what ‘here’ is.”

she chuckled in response, shaking her head lightly as she rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. “you think i’ve never felt like this? trust me, i have had my fair share of ‘i don’t belong here, i shouldn’t be playing football, my world is ending’ moments” she said - tilting her head, and reading your expression like a book.

“but let me ask you something - something i always ask myself when i feel like this - who here, today told you that you weren’t good enough?”

you swallowed harshly, choking back a splutter in response as you register the fact that she’s right.

“um- nobody, i-i guess. not really.”

“right. so, that little, nagging voice in your head? it’s lying to you.” leah shifted again, leaning forward slightly, holding eye contact as to really get the message across. “you’ve not only been called up, which is a huge thing in itself, you’ve been admired by each and every person here - we’ve been watching and waiting for your moment, and are overjoyed that it’s finally here. you’re incredibly talented - and you do belong here. nobody hands out lionesses call ups for nothing. you’ve earned this, kid. give yourself that credit.”

you wipe your eyes, her words beginning to sink in, although still tangled with a cloud of doubt. “i just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

your words trail off at the end of your sentence, but the captain, your captain - hears them clear as day, and she softens even more. “listen to me, okay - and you can trust that i’m being honest, ask anyone hear and they’ll take the mick about how serious i am with everything. you’re new, yeah. but that doesn’t , and will never mean that you’re alone. we’re a team, and that means we’ve got you. no matter what - you could score five own goals and get a red card tomorrow and we’d still back you. i promise you.”

your lip trembled, more tears slipping down your cheeks as you nod. leah, without hesitation pulls you into her arms, sensing that you could really do with a hug - and not being able to bear seeing you so upset without comforting you any more.

“you’re safe here, promise.” she said firmly, stroking your back gently, and almost rocking the pair of you. “i’ve got you - always.”

she remains like that for what feels like forever, grounding you and whispering words of reassurance until a shaky breath slipped your lips as you nodded, finally starting to believe her words. “thank you. i, um. i needed that.”

“come on then superstar - let’s show the world what you’ve got.” she helps you up and links your arm in hers, giving you a reassuring nod and smile as you both make your way back out to the training field.

“and please don’t actually score five own goals and get a red card - sarina would kill me.”

feeling incredibly rusty with writing currently but i have revamped my page + am getting back to it!

and what better way to chuck myself in the deep end other than starting up a new series :’) i hope you love it as much as i do

- el x

#leah williamson x platonic reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x child reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #leah williamson x teen reader #woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc x child reader #awfc imagine #lionesses imagine

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siri-ike · 7 minutes ago

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(Warning: this meanders, prepare for a long read)

Some dark rituals can be done with any moonlight, and slightly more complex ones require a full moon. With that small difference, they go from being available every night to one night a month. There are of corse rarer moons, such as the super moon, which only occurs once every four months.

This one is the opposite. It requires as little moonlight as possible. This is why this can only be done tonight. The night of the micro new moon. A new moon as far from the earth as possible.

When the spirits are too weak to fight back.

You'd think on such a clear day you'd see some stars for once. But nooOOoOoo.

It was a dark and dreary night in Gotham just like all the others. The Riddler was teasing the newest detective, Penguin was throwing a fit over something or other, Poison Ivy was hitting on her therapist, and inside the Gotham clock tower Clayface stood frozen through and waiting to be picked up by police.

Dick thought this would be cooler. He'd been Robin for SIX WHOLE DAYS, and barely anything had happened. Anything he'd gotten to help with anyway. He's nine years old. He can take care of himself. Bru- Batman really needs to learn that.

So when he'd heard rumors at school about suspicious activity in one of gothams hundreds of "supposedly abandoned buildings/mansions," He had to check it out. And he would do it on his own.

Or he was gonna. Not to name any names, but Dick seems to have very loose lips.

That's how it became just him, some kids from school, a boy from a Gala, a boy he met at a police station and a girl from right outside the house, seemingly also planing to break in. But aside from that, it was a covert mission.

Thankfully, none of them questioned or even seemed to care that he brought a utility belt. In fact, they were surprisingly well armed. Wallace brought a toolbelt. Garfield showed up in a skintight outfit with steel plate shoes and gloves (what does he expect to happen?). Nadia had knives hidden all over her body, a garrote wire, sharp metal fingernails, and some kind of powder (what does she expect to happen?!). His classmates all chickened out, so really, he got the best outcome he could have asked for.

Getting in was just a matter of hopping a wire fence. Everyone was able to pull that off except Wallace, who had to cut his way in. While they waited, Garfield was somehow able to sneak in and unlock a door.

Inside was no one. As expected for just a rumor. For some reason, it felt like the floor boards didn't creak when Garfield or Nadia stepped on them, but Dick and Wallace made them wanna alert the media. They searched every room from the ground floor to the attic, but all they found were a closet full of identical purple robes, a collection of jars with animal fetuses in them, a chest full of severed fingers arranged in order of least decomposed to most decomposed, and wax statues that looked oddly similar to Dicks three classmates who bailed on them. Eventually, they had to admit defeat and go home.

But just as they were about to exit through the front door, Nadia begged them to take a closer look. It was just as well. They needed to find Garfeild anyway, seeing as he'd disappeared at some point.

Gar looked quizzically at the device Dick (Richard, 9, Caucasian, Male) had handed him.

"These will let us communicate if we get separated." He said as he pocketed the three extras.

Once they got to the fence, Gar heard a noise coming from further behind the manor and walked off to investigate. It turned out to be girl, 12, black, introduced herself as Nadia. She was intent on breaking in as well. She was well prepared and seemed to know what she was doing. But for some reason, Wally (Wallace, 11, Caucasian, male) was adamant about not letting a girl in on a dangerous mission. While he struggled to cut through the fence, everyone else had jumped so easily, Gar went ahead and snuck in.

No one ever locks the third floor windows. He quickly checked the most obvious places for signs of habitation, the kitchen hasn't been used in at least a month, but the living room barely had any dust in it compared to everywhere else, exept for the bedroom he'd entered through. There were fresh rope marks on the bed post, and the sheets were messy. Someone had been tied up there.

When he opened the door, he saw Dick kneeling in front of him, clearly about to pick the lock. He'd apparently also given Nadia one of the spare communicators.

The others all went to search the house, but Gar had all the information he needed. There had to be a basement, even if there's no obvious entrance. Everyone split up, and he went straight underground.

It was easy, worm through the floor boards, mole down till he met solid stone, after that he could just crawl around as a centipede until he found a crack. Nothing to it, really. Too bad, he had to leave his shoes and gloves behind.

He ended up in a wine cellar full of bodies. Most were just skeletons, but some could still be ID'd if they told the police. To his right was a spiral staircase down, but no apparent way up.

So down he went.

The steps were made of cobblestone and looked much older than the building on top. The occasional bone or severed limb suggested people tried and failed to get up to the closed off room he came from. The further he descended the thicker the air got, Gar was no stranger to the smell of decomposing, but this was worse than Grandma's Bachelorette party.

At the bottom lay an explanation for the foul odor.

The floor was soft but coarse. Almost like dirt, but it was strung together somehow. Night vision really wasn't helping. He patted around with his feet, not wanting to get this residue on his hands. He's definitely felt this texture before. But where? If only there was the least bit of light in there.

Wait, what was he doing? There's more senses than just sight.

Gar made a clicking sound with the back of his throat and listened for the reverberations. This room is small. There's piles of stuff in the corners, probably just more bodies. There's a wooden door with metal bars at adult eye level. Squirreling through there, led him to a corridor.

Another click revealed there were more rooms, most had the same wooden door, but one had a thinner wooden door with no bars. On the walls were torches. Gar had nothing to light them with, nor a need to.

Just passing them, Gar learned the other cells smelled like death, too. He snailed through a chip in the bottom of the door. He didn't check if it was locked, but there could have been people on the other side.

Smells better in here. And there was a little bit of light coming from a table. It was a cellphone, plugged into a powerbank. It's at 48%. Someone was here less than an hour ago. Gar took the battery and stuck it into his thigh, leaving the cable out and attached to the phone in his hand. He turned on the flashlight. It looked like a small dining area, like a break room at a renesance fair. There was another door opposite the one he came in. It looked more worn. Another wall had a little kitchen, enough to make a quick meal, definitely a work break room. Opposite that was a ladder through a tunnel. Finally.

"He probably just went home." Wally huffed. He really needs to stop letting strangers drag him into B&Es. "We could always just report the fingers and baby jars."

"They were fetuses," Dick replied. "The term "baby" implies human and already born. What we saw were aborted and, therefore, not illegal to keep."

"Ok. First off. Nerd. Second, the fingers couldn't have been legal. Now, let's go."

"He also lives all the way in New Hampshire. His parents won't pick him up til tomorrow."

The two were startled by a thudd behind them. Nadia had dropped Gars shoes and gloves on the floor in an attention-grabbing way. Fine, so he didn't go home.

"I called his communicator. These things were at the back door." Nadia said flatly.

Oh, right. They all had communicators.

"Do you think someone could have grabbed him?" There was a slight hint of excitement in Dicks tone.

"If I were kidnapping someone, I wouldn't take the time to remove their shoes and gloves. I think he took them off for some reason and disappeared afterward. Now, there are few reasons why someone would take their shoes off in this sort of environment." She picked up one shoe. "My guess would be water. He could have found a basement or something and realized that it was flooded, so, to get a closer look, he removed his unnecessary, heavy gear." Nadia theorized. "I didn't find any doors leading to a basement, so, if it exists, the entrance must be very well hidden."

"It could be outside." Dick added. "Let's search the grounds."

She should probably have been scared, but Álaug hadn't felt much of anything the past cupple days. Couldn't this stupid cult just hurry up and do whatever they were planning to do already?

Every muscle in her body felt heavier than usual. She could barely lift herself up off the dirty gauze covered floor. She rubbed her eyes, but the "tired" was firmly in there. Around her was a blurry room, with four blurry walls and one blurry door. Outside, she could make out faint footsteps. Inside sat a blurry girl, who used the wall to pull herself up and - no? Nevermind. There lay a girl falling back asleep on the floor.

Nadia snapped back to herself. It's her, Álaug is OK. Sort of. But she has to be near by atleast. Nadia looks around herself. The place she saw was all stone. It couldn't have been in this mansion. It was dark, too. Chances were, it was too deep for moonlight. Nadia quickly grabbed the shoes and gloves from the floor. She showed them to the others along with some lie to lead them underground.

Unfortunately, the smaller one seemed to think it could only be outside, completely disregarding the possibility of a hatch under a rug or a door behind a bookcase, and the redhead refused to listen to her. Thankfully, there was a storm cellar for them to investigate while she went back inside to search properly. Think. When they got here, before they started touching things. The living room was the only place that looked like it had been used. She turned it upside down. She moved the couch and coffee table just to check under the rug. She emptied every shelf, drawer, and cabinet to no avail. She tapped on the floor and walls until she got to the wood panels on the side of the stairs. She pushed it in, and a short door popped out. At last. She did it. And this time she was going to make it in time.

Inside was a long dark tunnel down. "It's in the living room." She announced into the communicator, which reverberated from the second one she had. Oh, well. They either heard or they didn't. The green one was the only one who had proved to be more than dead weight so far anyway. Not that she needed any of them. She only needed Álaug.

An estimated 84 trillion miles into the tunnel, Nadia finally admitted she might have needed a flashlight, too. But she's not giving up just because it's dark. After a 15-minute decent, she heard a click. It was quiet and far away, but it sounded alive. Man or Beast? Would either be a good thing?

She's gone! Seriously? He only had three people with him, and two of them were already missing! Dick pulled out his communicator to track her location. It looked like she was... 0.497 miles away. How did she get half a mile away? The dot still reads on the property. Right below them, in fact.

Was this too much? Was he in over his head? Should he call Batman?

Well, no one knows about Nadia, and Gar had specifically mentioned his parents would not notice him missing for at least 3 weeks. So it's not like he can get in trouble if they keep going alone.

After a while, it started raining, and the boys were forced to move the search back inside. Where they found the living room wrecked and a door where there previously wasn't one.

Dick pulled a flashlight out of his utility belt and took one step inside before he was pulled back.

"What are you doing?" Wally demanded. "This room is visible from the outside. If you call the police this is plausible cause, and they can investigate."

"But then we don't get to investigate."

The argument went on embarrassingly long. If Nadia was in there, she had a major head start.

The corridor was long and winding. Wally refused to come with, insisting he would go get the police. Jokes on him. They're in Gotham, police aren't gonna help.

"It's happening! Get ready!" The lead cloked figure shouts.

In front of him is a somewhat conscious 11 year old girl in a nightgown tied to a shrine and surrounded by strange symbols written in her own semi-irredecent blood.

"Aghh!!"

"Gar?"

"Nadia?"

"Where have you been?"

"Creepy dungeon. I found a cellphone. Could have something on it." He offered her the device.

"Oh, I left the nerd upstairs. They were slowing me down." She pulled both communicators out of her pocket and held one to her mouth. "I found Gar. We're in the basement." She looked at him again. "Are you going up or coming with me?"

"With you. I found an important looking door you might wanna see."

"We're headed further in." She said to the communicator.

"Wait for me, I'm on my way."

"We'll see you at the bottom." She was not about to wait 15 minutes in a cramped stairwell. "How far down is it?"

"I don't know, I'm pretty bad with time."

The chanting was almost soothing. In a way, it reminded Álaug of the pit. The thorny vines around her arms and legs loosened, and her mind faded further. They tore at her "flesh" as they slithered away from her. Soon, there was nothing holding her together.

The lights went out, and the chanting abruptly stopped.

The podium beneath her glowed a supernatural shade of green. And all around her floated gears, pendulums, and clock hands.

In the middle of the show appeared a toddler? No, an old man. Floating above the crowd. He spun around to face her. His expression turned sour. He pointed his staff at her, and in an instant, her chains were gone, and she fell to the ground.

Something must have happened while she was writhing on the floor because before she knew it, she was holding a baby.

This time, upon reaching the medieval break room, the lights were on. Electric ones! The candles on the walls were fake. The suspicious door was open, too.

"Do you hear that?" Gar asked.

"No?"

"Sounds like chanting."

Urgency washed over Nadias face. She pulled out her communicator again.

"Dick, we can't wait. Rituals already started."

"Hey, no. Wait for me. I'm almost there." His voice was obscured by the sound of running. "What ritual?"

She stepped out the door but was met with two possible directions. "Which way is the chanting? We need to hurry."

Gar ran directly towards the sound.

"But they could be in danger."

"Look, kid. We can't just send a SWAT team to go investigate a child's rumor."

"Can you do anything?"

"I could arrest you for breaking and entering."

"Well, there are three more people currently breaking and entering there. Can you go for that? Or do you only work on crimes that have already happened?"

"Listen here, you little-"

"Forget it! Actual gang members are more helpful than this!" Wally stormed out of the police station with tears in his eyes. Gotham is very different from Central City.

🎶Tick tock, goes the clock🎶

🎵And all the years they fly🎵

🎶Tick tock, goes the clock🎶

🎵Till you and I must die🎵

Danny's soft face looked so at home in Clockwork arms. His big round cheeks, so full of sweetness. His wide eyes full of wonder and curiosity. When they were open. For now, Clockworks' greatest treasure soundly slept and tightly held onto one of his fingers.

Clockwork could lose himself for hours staring, and he usually did. But this time, his baby bonding time was cut off by a summon. He found himself in a dark room, lit only by his own clock works. In his arms was nothing. He searched for any ghostly presence but felt only a dim charge from behind him.

On a podium surounded by ghost runes and old time pieces was a girl, a ghost? No, she's odd in some way. It didn't matter. She was tied up. Clockwork aimed his staff her way and aged the chains until they were nothing but dust.

"Great God of time!" A mere human addressed. "I have summoned you here for one purpose. Bring back my wife. In exchange, we will return to you the goddess of the moon." She bargained, gesturing toward the girl.

Clockwork prided himself on being a patient observer, an impartial judge. Today was not a proud day for him.

The two of them followed the chant until-

"It stopped."

"Keep going. Maybe we're close."

Dick could only follow the dots on his communicator since they were no longer answering him. 0.28 miles. That's not so bad. And for some reason, they weren't moving.

When Dick finally reached them, they were frozen in place, bathed in a ghostly glow, with matching horrified looks. They seemed so fearless before, so why now? Curiosity compelled him to look, but Dicks better judgment won. He reached in and pulled his allies out of the light, and it was like they shocked back into their bodies.

"What was in there?"

They didn't have time to answer. Instead, a huge burst of energy floded out of the room. They narrowly avoided it by staying in the shadows.

The light slowly dissipated over the next two minutes. Leaving a faint glow in its wake.

Once they deemed it safe, all three carefully made their way into a grand hall. Row after row of skeletons all wore the same robes from upstairs, and faced a big extravagant steam punk looking shrine. The glow was coming from there. A mix of blueish green and a dark red. All drowned out by the cries of a baby.

Nadia was the first to run over to the shrine. Dick was more careful, and Gar just seemed unsettled.

This dust is people. He's walking on dusted people. They were alive and chanting less than an hour ago, and now they're dust. And now they're breathing them. Tonight has officially moved up to top ten worst days. It's somewhere below his parents' death but above English jewel theif double homicide.

"Come on." Dick tugged at his elbow.

They went up to the shrine, where they saw Nadia holding another girl. They looked like complete opposites. Nadia was tall, black, curly haired, and had a general "has hidden knives regardless of the situation" vibe to her. The other girl was pale and short. Her hair was straight as a wooden plank, and her vibe was "spooky roses" and "needs hospital."

Near them was a glowing baby lying on the floor, fussing. Its white hair looked slightly greenish thanks to the halo surrounding the infant. Gar felt compelled to pick it up and take a few steps away. Upon doing so, the baby settled. As though something in the shrine made it uncomfortable.

"Can we get out of here?" Gar piped up.

"Of course." Nadia picked the other girl up like she weighed nothing more than a corgi.

Gar couldn't help but be more careful on the way back. Not that Dick was complaining. He was tired of being left behind. At least they did rescue the girl. Some girl. That's heroic. And he totally did something, right?

"Hey, Gar? If my dad asks, I was a great leader, ok?"

"Okay." Gar was not paying attention. It was like he was hypnotized by that baby.

"Aren't you getting tired? We can switch."

Gar looked Dick up and down. He was already struggling with the long winding stairs. There's no way he could handle a baby on top of not having sonar.

"I don't think so."

Dick was in front so he stepped into the living room first, followed by Gar and his glowing baby, followed by... uhm... where are the girls?

Along with the sunrise, the boys were met with Wally. Hiding behind The Flash. Who in turn was standing next to Batman.

Dick's gonna be in so much trouble.

Why would Clockwork de-age Danny and then just leave him in Gotham for Batman to steal? No, he'd raise that boy himself. Fuck letting others get their grubby mitts on his new son. He wants to make sure he doesn't turn evil like Dan and this is the only way he knows it will work 100%.

That is until someone summons the ancient of time and gets a baby because the portal was a little to the left.

Now Clockwork is sending ghosts to go retrieve the boy since he can't leave the realms.

#what do you mean animal fetus jars arent normal. its pretty normal for a mansion in gotham #wally dosnt have powers yet. but he does have sexism straight out of the comics #and just like the comics gar has had his powers since he was 4. exept in this version hes been with the doom patrol for longer #you better like this. i had to learn miles for this.#sure hope i remember to link nadia and álaugs origin

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azzibuckets · 12 hours ago

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sweet [part 6]

a/n: sorry for the delay..i kept this in my drafts hoping i’d get inspiration for something more creative but it never came so i waited like a month for nothing 😔

main masterlist | sweet masterlist

Paige really is trying to be happy.

But it’s incredibly fucking difficult to do when Azzi is laughing in somebody’s arms that’s not hers.

“Chill, P,” KK’s voice pipes up from beside her. “I think everyone in this room can feel how hard you’re staring at her.”

Paige doesn’t say anything, scoffing as she forces herself to turn around. She’s felt jealous before - but nothing like this, where her stomach is turning and she feels physically sick. “You need to get laid.” KK suggests, poking her arm. “Flirt with some pretty girls. Make her jealous.”

“Nah, bro.” Paige rubs her temples. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days, and her body never seems to feel 100% with all the conditioning and the intensity of their practices. Frankly, she’s physically and mentally exhausted, and the little energy she has left isn’t nowhere close to enough to deal with all this. “I’m done. I don’t wanna keep doing this back and forth shit.”

“So you’re gonna give up?” KK asks incredulously, eyes widening.

“She’s the one who gave up on us before we even started.” Paige toes the ground. “It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. I told her how I felt and she doesn’t want to date me.” Her jaw tightens. “I just don’t get how she can forgive Micaela so easily and not me.”

“I don’t think it’s about forgiveness, Paige,” KK says slowly, her demeanor serious. “I think she’s scared, and rightfully so.”

“I know she is,” the blonde groans. “But goddamn, isn’t it worth it? I think about her and I get fucking giddy thinking about being able to take her on dates and shit.”

KK falls silent, worry pooling in her eyes for the girl that’s been like an older sister to her. She’s not used to this, being the one to give Paige advice. “You keep saying you’re okay,” she says finally. “But you don’t have to be.”

“I’m not,” Paige admits. “But I will be.”

•••

Paige curses, kicking at the chair before flopping down on it. Jana and Ice exchange looks behind her back as she aggressively grabs a Gatorade bottle and squirts water into her mouth.

“None of my shots are fucking falling,” she rants, eyes quickly tracking the movement on the court. “How many turnovers have I had?” she asks, turning to one of the team managers on the bench.

The manager checks her iPad, looking back up at Paige sympathetically. “Four.”

“Fuck.” Paige slams the Gatorade bottle down on her thigh. “I don’t know what’s fucking wrong with me.”

The team is up by twenty five points, and Paige doesn’t see the court for the rest of the game. As soon as the buzzer sounds, she’s out of her seat, rushing through the handshake line to go to the locker room. She knows Geno likes giving the fourth quarter to the bench to help them get more experience, but she can’t help but be annoyed that she hadn’t been allowed to go back in and redeem herself against a shitty team that couldn’t even shoot. She’d turned the ball more over than had assists, for fuck’s sake.

“Paige, you coming?” The team is huddled around the door, on their way out for team dinner.

Paige is still next to her locker, head bowed down as she rummages through her duffel. “You guys go ahead,” she responds. “I think I’m done for the night.”

She hears her teammates hesitate, murmuring softly to each other before they decide to leave her be. As she hears the last of the footsteps, she turns around to make her own exit, making eye contact with big brown eyes as Azzi happens to look back at the same time.

Stay. Her eyes communicate everything she’s not brave enough to say out loud. Stay with me, she begs. I don’t want to be alone.

And Azzi, her best friend, who’s always been able to read Paige’s mind, who knows what Paige is feeling before she herself can ever put a name on it, who’s always there before Paige even has to ask, hesitates, her steps faltering, eyes rounding. But then her eyebrows dip, as if she’s remembering their last conversation, the hurt they’d made each other feel.

Azzi bites her bottom lip and turns back around, pace quickening to catch up with the rest of the team.

Paige slams her locker shut.

She was a fool for ever believing Azzi would still care about her after everything she’d done.

•••

“Don’t beat yourself up, Paige,” her dad says. His voice is distorted over the speaker, but still comforting from thousands of miles away. “What would you say if one of your teammates had an off performance like this? You need to learn to give yourself grace too.”

“I know, I just-” Paige looks up at the ceiling, studying the ugly floral patterns glaring back down at her. “I just can’t help but feel like I’m letting them down.” She pulls the blanket tighter over herself. “I’m supposed to be their voice on the court, and today I was doing jack shit.”

“That’s what makes you a good leader. Recognizing the mistakes you’ve made, moving on from them and becoming better after.”

Paige sighs. She appreciates her dad’s efforts to comfort her, but right now nice words are doing nothing to alleviate the hollowness in her heart.

“This isn’t helping, is it?” her dad, ever so honest, realizes.

Paige winces. “Not really. But I appreciate it.”

He chuckles softly. “I could tell. Azzi was the only one who could get through to you when you were like this back in high school. Where is she?”

“She’s, uh, out right now. With the team.” Paige doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they haven’t talked much at all in the last month. Her dad has always had a soft spot for Azzi, their more shy and introverted personalities making them get along.

“Well, when she comes back, have a talk with her, okay? I don’t want you sitting alone with your feelings. It’s not good for you.”

Paige swallows hard. “I will,” she lies. The mere mention of Azzi only intensifies the headache she’s already having. “Listen, I’m pretty tired, so I’m prolly gonna crash now.”

“Yeah, get some rest.” Her dad pauses. “I love you, Paige. Don’t forget that.”

“I know. Love you too.”

The call disconnects, and sitting in her bed in the dark room, the whirring air conditioning the only sound in the room besides her heavy breathing, Paige misses home more than ever. She misses her parents, and Drew. She misses being with people she hasn’t hurt over and over again with stupid mistakes.

“Paige?”

Paige looks up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in, and she’s more confused to see Azzi standing there uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot, cheeks pretty and rosy from the cold outside.

“Az? How’d you get in?”

“Aubrey gave me the key card.” Azzi drops said key card on the table. “Everyone’s really worried, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, cut the crap.” Paige buries her face back into the pillows, not wanting another lecture on how bad she played. “I’m sorry I fucking blew it.”

“Paige.” Azzi’s tone is soft, and Paige realizes just now how much she’s missed the way her name sounds coming from Azzi’s mouth. “They’re not worried about the way you played. They’re worried about how you reacted to it. They’re worried about you.”

The younger girl sits down tentatively at the edge of the bed. “You always take care of the team,” she says quietly. “But you don’t have to carry the weight of that alone. Sometimes you need to put yourself first.”

Paige almost throws herself into Azzi’s arms, catching the dark haired girl off guard for a moment before she gently hugs her back. As if on instinct, her hands go up to start undoing her ponytail, like she used to always do after games. Azzi combs through her hair, gently twisting off the hair tie and murmuring into her ear.

Shoulders shaking, Paige sinks into Azzi’s chest as she finally allows herself to cry. “It’s okay, baby,” Azzi whispers, lips grazing her ear. “I got you.”

It seems like hours that Azzi holds Paige. Eventually, the blonde’s breathing evens out, her sniffling stopping as her breaths become deeper. She thinks Paige is asleep until the older girl turns her head slightly. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Azzi slings an arm across her waist, breathing her in. The ends of Paige’s hair tickle her cheek, but she doesn’t move. “Do you want me to be?”

Paige’s voice comes out, barely in a whisper. “Yes.”

Azzi drops her head, lips skimming across the older girl’s neck. Paige’s skin is warm, her pulse fluttering under her touch. Azzi tightens her grip on her waist, thumb dipping under her shirt to stroke soft circles on her hipbone. Paige shifts closer. “Then I’ll be here.”

•••

Paige wakes up to tangled sheets and warm hands on her face. She blinks sleepily as her vision sharpens to see Azzi propped over her on one elbow. “How you feeling?” Azzi asks softly, her morning voice scratchy.

Paige reaches up, fingers trailing over Azzi’s hand cupping her cheek. “Better,” she breathes out. She looks over at the alarm clock, groaning. “We still have half an hour.”

Paige flips over onto her belly, resting her head on Azzi’s chest. Azzi grabs her waist, adjusting her so that the older girl is fully on top of her. Her hands go up to stroke Paige’s back, scratching up and down her bare skin with her fingernails. Closing her eyes, Paige listens to the steady beat of Azzi’s heart. “You always smell so good,” she murmurs.

Azzi hums, rubbing her socked foot against Paige’s ankle. Paige has almost drifted off again when fingers gently brush hair out of her face. “We gotta be at breakfast in 10.”

“Don’t wanna get up.” She groans when Azzi takes her hands out from under her shirt, pushing Paige off her softly. Azzi starts to get ready, grabbing clothes to wear from Paige’s duffel without even asking.

Paige sits at the edge of the bed, watching Azzi move around the room. She can almost imagine that they’re back to normal again, going to bed together and waking up together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re the only one that makes me feel like this.”

Azzi pauses for a moment before choosing not to respond. She disappears into the bathroom, reemerging a few seconds later with two toothbrushes. She hands one to Paige. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

Paige grabs the toothbrush and stares at her. “What? It’s true.”

“It’s not gonna help either of us move on,” Azzi says pointedly.

“What if I don’t want to move on?” Paige challenges, following Azzi back to the bathroom.

“There’s no future for us, Paige,” Azzi says harshly, turning around to put a warning hand against Paige’s chest. She closes the door between the two of them as if to reaffirm their boundaries.

“So you’re just gonna come to my hotel room and hold me through the night then get pissed at me for still having feelings for you?” Paige laughs humorlessly, slumping down to sit against the door. “Real classy, Azzi.”

“You needed someone. I couldn’t sit in my room knowing you were suffering.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re making it worse by all this coming and leaving?” Paige blinks back tears. “God, you finally just look at me again and I go fucking crazy.” She scrambles to her feet once she hears the door unlock, and Azzi comes out, her eyes slightly red. “I can’t have just some of you. I need to have all of you or - or none of you.”

The younger girl jerks towards her. “You’re a fucking liar, you know? You said no matter what decision I chose, you would be happy,” she shoots back, voice shaky with anger.

Paige’s eyes cloud over. “How do you know that?”

Azzi hesitated. “The letter you write me- I found it. In the guest room.” As if on instinct, her hands reach for her purse, but she stops herself. It certainly wouldn’t help her case if Paige knew she carried that note with her everywhere she went.

Cursing under her breath, Paige runs a hand through her hair. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Yeah, well.” Azzi takes a deep breath, trying to recollect her thoughts. “I’m asking you to be happy for me, okay? I know it’s a lot. But you’re my best friend. I need you to do this for me.”

“You’re not being fair to me.” Paige’s words catch in her throat. “You know how this makes me feel.”

“I know.” Azzi leans her forehead against Paige’s. Her thumb finds the tears coating the older girl’s lashes, the dampness of her cheeks, trying to brush them away, trying to brush all their mistakes and their sins and their pain away. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

Paige dips her head down, burrowing it into her shoulder, fingers digging into Azzi’s waist as if holding onto her any tighter will keep her from slipping away from her life. “Okay.” Her voice cracks. Just ten minutes ago, she’d been firmly resolute in her ultimatum - seeing Azzi with other people had hurt too fucking much for her to stand. But now? Paige has always been a people pleaser. Recently she’s been learning to stand her ground, to be okay with letting others be upset. But when it comes to her best friend, who’s pleading with her, eyes wet with grief and hope and a million words unsaid, Paige knows that she doesn’t have it in her to say no. That learning to get over her pain will somehow be doable if it means that it’ll take away just a little bit of Azzi’s . “Okay.”

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconnwbb #pazzi #uconn wbb #wcbb #angst #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd

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ari-ana-bel-la · 23 hours ago

Note

OMG you're writing is actually so good, you're fics are the absolute. cutest

Could I please request more protective dad charles, maybe with teen daughter reader who is growing more independent and Charles is both proud and sad that his little girl is growing up and wants to spend even more time with her. I feel like clingy and protective dad charles would be cute but funny as the same time

His strong, independent girl

The first time Charles held Yn in his arms, he knew—without question—that nothing in the world would ever matter more to him than his daughter. Not his career, not the roar of the engines, not even the red car he had once thought was the love of his life. Yn was his heart walking outside his body, and from the moment she came into the world, she held that heart in the palm of her tiny hand.

It hadn’t changed over the years. Not when she took her first steps, not when she lost her first tooth, and certainly not now that she was eighteen and full of bright-eyed independence. If anything, Charles only loved her more fiercely. But with that love came a deep, gnawing ache—an ache he felt every time she left the apartment with her friends, laughing as she tossed a quick “Bye, Papa!” over her shoulder. She was growing up, slipping through his fingers faster than he could hold on. And while he was so proud of her, the thought of his little girl no longer needing him twisted something tight in his chest.

So when Yn asked him to teach her how to drive, Charles didn’t hesitate. If this was how he could hold onto her a little longer—by guiding her hands on the wheel, by being the one she turned to when she wanted to learn—then he would gladly give her everything he knew.

And if he happened to use his favorite car for the lesson? Well, she deserved nothing but the best.

---

"Are you serious?" Yn’s voice was filled with disbelief as she stood in front of the sleek Ferrari Pista Spider, its back paint gleaming under the warm afternoon sun. "You're letting me drive this?"

Charles leaned casually against the hood, arms crossed as he grinned at her. "What? You didn’t think I was going to teach you in some boring car, did you?"

Her green eyes widened as she shook her head. "I thought you’d make me learn in the Volvo or something!"

He laughed softly, pushing off the car to open the driver’s side door. "Please, ma chérie, you’re my daughter. You should learn how to drive properly. And that means driving the best."

Yn rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed how excited she was. "I’m not going to crash it, I promise."

"I know you won’t." He said it with such quiet confidence that it warmed her heart. No matter how much of a perfectionist he could be with himself, when it came to her, he always believed she could do anything. "Come on, get in."

She slid into the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the leather steering wheel as Charles moved around to the passenger side. When he sat down, the familiar scent of his cologne and the faint aroma of the car’s interior wrapped around her.

"Alright," he said, his tone soft and patient, "first things first—adjust your seat. You need to be close enough to the pedals but not too close that you feel cramped."

Yn wriggled forward slightly, testing the pedals under her sneakers. "Like this?"

"Perfect," he praised, reaching over to tap the steering wheel. "And your hands—ten and two. Seatbelt. Always. This isn’t a video game."

She laughed under her breath but did as he instructed. "Okay. What next?"

Charles leaned back in his seat, watching her with a mixture of pride and something softer—something that made his heart ache. "Put your foot on the brake. Then press the ignition."

Yn followed his instructions, but as soon as she pressed the button, the engine let out a sharp, sputtering noise before falling silent. She froze, a flash of panic crossing her face.

"I broke it," she blurted.

Charles chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. "You didn’t break anything, ma chérie. It’s fine." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Take a breath. Try again."

She did, exhaling slowly before pressing the button once more. This time, the engine purred to life beneath them, smooth and powerful. Yn’s face lit up with excitement.

"There you go," Charles murmured, his voice filled with quiet pride. "See? You’ve got this."

And from there, he guided her through the basics with endless patience. Steering, braking, accelerating—every movement was accompanied by his calm instructions, his voice as steady as if they were simply sitting at the kitchen table rather than in a car worth more than most people’s houses.

When she pressed the accelerator too gently and the car barely rolled forward, he bit back a smile. When she jerked a little too hard while turning, he only said, "You’re doing great—just ease into it."

And when Yn got a little too confident and sped up along the empty road, Charles didn’t scold her. No—he laughed softly to himself, thinking that it wasn’t her fault everyone else drove too slowly.

---

After an hour, Yn had the hang of it. Her hands moved smoothly on the wheel, and her confidence grew with every turn. Charles couldn’t stop watching her, pride swelling in his chest at how quickly she was picking everything up. But beneath that pride was a pang of something bittersweet—because every mile she drove was another step toward a world where she didn’t need him to guide her anymore.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Charles finally directed her back toward their apartment. When she eased the car perfectly into a parking spot, he let out a long breath and smiled.

"You did it," he said, his voice soft with wonder. "You’re a natural, Yn."

She turned to him, her smile radiant. "I had the best teacher."

He laughed, but when he looked at her—really looked at her—he felt a lump form in his throat. When had she grown up like this? When had his little girl become this smart, capable young woman who didn’t need her father to hold her hand at every step?

Before he could sink too deeply into those thoughts, Yn threw open her door and rushed around to his side. Without warning, she flung her arms around him, holding him tight.

"Thank you," she whispered against his chest. "For everything, Papa."

Charles’ breath caught, and he held her just as tightly, his arms wrapping around her as if he could shield her from the entire world. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Je t’aime, ma chérie," he murmured. "More than anything."

---

Later that night, when they returned to the apartment, Alexandra was sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine. She glanced up as they walked in, raising an eyebrow at the wide smile on Charles’ face.

"So," she drawled, "how did it go? Is our car still in one piece?"

Charles scoffed, dropping onto the couch beside her. "Our car? Please. That car is practically Yn’s now. And she’s a genius. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone learn that fast."

Yn, who was grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, laughed softly. "You’re exaggerating, Papa."

"I’m not!" Charles insisted, turning to Alexandra with an earnest expression. "She’s incredible. So smooth on the wheel, completely calm—"

"You’re ridiculous," Alexandra teased, though her smile softened as she watched the way Charles practically glowed with pride.

"I’m right," he shot back. Then, his expression softened as he glanced toward the kitchen where Yn stood. "She’s amazing," he repeated quietly. "And I’m so proud of her."

And in that moment, Charles knew—no matter how fast time moved, no matter how independent Yn became—he would always be her biggest supporter. Because she wasn’t just his daughter.

She was his heart.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

#f1 drivers as fathers #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x daughter!reader #f1 x female reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x daughter!reader #leclerc!reader #dad!charles leclerc #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #💙🦋

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imagine-it-was-us · 2 days ago

Text

where we land || Lando Norris

Inspiration: Ed Sheeran where we land

Author's note: These are getting out of hand. Started as the creative outlet and ended as sleepless nights where you can't go to bed until you let our mind bleed out on the keyboard. Ed Sheeran and his music will always have a special place in my heart. And this particular song makes me miss the relationship I never had. So enjoy, I am really proud of this one. Hopefully you will find it bearable.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: none, just angst.

Summary: do I love you? do I hate you? || I can't make up my mind || so let's free fall (and part ways for the year I guess??) and see where we land.

Word count: 6.8k+

“Lando, this isn’t working”, she sighed. It was obvious that this short sentence took every last bit of energy she had. After this, there was nothing left – no emotions, no desire to fight, just nothing. A blank expression followed.

He looked up from his computer, unphased.

“What’s not working?”

“Us.”

The mood slightly shifted, yet nothing too shocking. It felt like this conversation was overdone way too many times. They have been here before. That's why he didn’t even take a second to think about what sparked this conversation. It felt like it was a casual chat between an old married couple.

“Yeah,” Lando muttered, exhaling sharply. “Let’s take a break. We’ll make up anyway.”

That was it. No argument, no hesitation. Like it was routine. Like she had just told him she was stepping out for a moment, and he expected her to come back.

When you think about it, it was devastating. The level of indifference was what hurt the most.

They had known each other their whole lives – friends by proximity before choice. Their families lived in the same neighborhood, close enough that their bond felt inevitable. Even as kids, they were opposites. He was the reckless daredevil, climbing trees and riding his bike at full speed down the steepest roads, while she was the quiet dreamer, lying on the grass for hours, lost in her thoughts. But somehow, they worked. They always had.

As they grew up, their lives took different directions, but they never drifted too far. When Lando got into karting, and later, into the high-stakes world of racing, she wasn’t his biggest supporter in the traditional sense. She didn’t attend every event or cheer the loudest. But she cared. She always asked how he was feeling, if he was okay. She avoided getting too involved, not because she didn’t believe in him or was not interested, but because she couldn’t shake the fear of what could happen. The crashes, the risks, the reality of what came with high-speed racing. Maybe that fear had even shaped her, pushed her toward a career where she could save the ones who weren’t as lucky. And yet, no matter how different their paths became, they had always made time for each other.

Then came that one Christmas. The night everything changed. He was on the brink of signing with McLaren, and she had just over a year of school left, set on studying medicine, becoming a paramedic. They spent the whole evening talking – about dreams, about the future, about everything. And the one constant in all their scenarios? Each other. They didn’t officially get together until months later, when the butterflies finally settled in. What started as something gentle and fragile grew into something more. Something that should have been unbreakable.

But it wasn’t.

Between her relentless studying and his deep dive into the world of Formula 1, the distance between them grew. The small sacrifices they used to make for each other became harder. At first, they convinced themselves it was just a rough patch. They had fallen in love as teenagers, blindly, without knowing what love truly required. Clashes were inevitable, but they always told themselves it was just temporary. That love would always outweigh the tension.

Until it didn’t.

The fights became more than just stress-fueled bickering. Trust started to crack. The rumors, the online hate she received for simply existing in his world, the missed races, the missed plans, the days of unanswered calls. The moments of doubt that neither of them wanted to admit were growing stronger.

They had tried. God, they had tried.

The guilt would always swing between them like a pendulum – one of them messing up, the other one forgiving too easily, hoping that this time would be different. And when it wasn’t, they’d take a step back, hoping the distance would fix what being together couldn’t. Then, like clockwork, one of them would cave. One apology, one touch, one whispered „I miss you“ would pull them back in.

The boat had been rocking for years. But at least before, there had still been waves. Now, sitting in their Monaco home, she wasn’t sure if they had finally reached the calm, or if they had simply drifted so far apart that the water didn’t even touch them anymore.

And that was worse than all the fights combined.

“That’s it?”

He lifted a shoulder in an infuriating half-shrug. “What do you want me to say? We take a break, we come back. It’s what we do.”

“That’s exactly the problem, Lando. I don’t want to pause on this empty shell we still call the relationship. I just don’t think I can.”

Deep down, words coming out of her hurt her. Yet she was just so tired of this game, then at the end there was no happy ending.

Lando exhaled, closing his laptop and putting it away, jaw clenched. Maybe he thought she was being dramatic. Maybe he was just waiting for the inevitable moment when she’d take it back.

But she wouldn’t, not this time. She just stood up from her end of the couch and exhaled.

“It will take me a couple of days to gather everything I own from this apartment. I will do it once you leave for Las Vegas, so I won’t disturb your calm before the GP. I will just grab my essentials for now,” she said like she was reciting a groceries list.

Lando didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, eyes fixed on the coffee table like it held all the answers he couldn’t find in her face. Maybe he was searching for something to say – some magic combination of words that would break the cycle, that would make this easier. But there was nothing left to say.

Finally, he nodded. “Okay.”

She felt her stomach twist. Part of her had wanted him to fight – really fight – for this, for them. But wasn’t that the whole point? They were tired. Exhausted. Running on empty, pretending they had more to give when they didn’t.

She swallowed, shifting on her feet. “I think we should do it properly this time.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, guarded. “What do you mean?”

“No breaks. No texts, no calls, no checking in. Not even a happy birthday or Merry Christmas.” The words came out steady, even though her heart was hammering against her ribs. “We give it at least a year. If we’re happier – truly happier – then we’ll know. We’ll let it go for good.”

Lando stood up, facing her. “And if we’re not?”

She exhaled, forcing a small, tired smile. “Then we’ll see where we land.”

He let out a breath, running a hand down his face. For a moment, he just studied her, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. Like maybe, deep down, some part of him was realizing that this was the last time he’d get to see her like this. Here. His.

Finally, he gave a slow nod. “Alright,” he murmured. “One year.”

One year to figure out if this was really love, or just a bad habit neither of them knew how to break. One year to see if they could be whole without each other. Or if, after everything, they still made sense together.

She was about to turn toward the bedroom, ready to start packing, but he moved first. His arms wound around her, and she didn’t hesitate before wrapping hers around him just as tightly.

And that was what made it hurt the most. Because after six years give or take, after all the fights and make-ups and everything in between, this was still the safest place each of them had ever known. His heartbeat against her ear. Her scent wrapping around him like home. The way neither of them wanted to be the first to let go.

But they had to. So, after one long, lingering moment, she forced herself to step back.

Lando’s arms fell away slowly, reluctantly, like he was holding onto the very last seconds of whatever this was.

And just like that, they let go. Not with a bang, not with a fight. Just a quiet understanding that, for the first time in years, it was time to stop holding on.

______

Remember the “No Merry Christmas” part? Well, that was their first slip up.

At first, no one questioned it.

When they said their goodbyes, when she packed up the last of her things, when they let go without a fight – no one questioned it. Not their friends. Not their families. Not the people who had known them as a unit for years.

Because this was just how they were. Messy. Cyclical. A little dramatic but never final. Everyone assumed that, in a few weeks, they’d find their way back – like they always did.

Yet red flags were being waved when she showed up on your parents doorstep and asked them to let you crash at theirs for the time being.

And when the world around you was lighting up, getting ready for the most wonderful time of the year, she was really feeling dead inside. That was when the questions started.

As she had to find a new job outside Monaco, she landed in the local hospital, in her parents' area. Her new coworkers, who knew her family, would try the small talk, asking how he was doing as the season went to the end. Sometimes even her patients would recognize her and ask her about F1 and her used-to-be boyfriend. A friend, who you haven’t talked to for weeks, would bring an article and ask for you to comment on it. It was even from her own aunt – the one she only ever saw at Christmas– who asked, completely oblivious, “What size are Lando’s feet again? I want to knit him those socks I promised last year.”

And just like that, he was everywhere. Like an echo of a life she wasn’t living anymore. Like a mistake she wasn’t sure she had actually made.

Because wasn’t that what everyone kept implying? That they had been stupid for doing this? That this break – this “proper” break, this one-year promise – was just a long, drawn-out way of making them both miserable?

And if so—was Lando feeling it, too?

Was he being ambushed with casual mentions of her in conversations that had nothing to do with her? Did he hear her name in places he wasn’t expecting it? Did it catch him off guard, did it sting, did it make him wonder if they had just ruined something they were always meant to fix?

She stopped herself from wondering. After all, she could dwell in these thoughts forever and never move forward. She knew she had to. This break was not only about figuring them out. It was also about figuring who you are outside the relationship you grew up in.

So for now, she did the thing she knew the best – threw herself into work. That’s why when Christmas Eve rolled around, she had her life line to escape hushed voices and petty looks, asking about her life. Also, Norris' family would always eventually roll around for a quick cup of tea – it was a tradition started by their parents even before the both of them were around so she for sure believed that them being on break would not stop their parents from interacting. Never did on any other break.

She did what she always did when the walls started closing in. She grabbed her coat, threw a scarf over her scrubs, and braced herself for the short, freezing walk to her car. A twelve-hour shift awaited her, filled with last-minute holiday accidents and bad luck, and she was oddly grateful for it. A perfect excuse to be anywhere but here.

She said her goodbyes, wished everyone a Merry Christmas, and stepped outside.

And nearly crashed straight into Adam Norris. Her hand shot out to steady herself, boots skidding slightly against the icy porch. “Oh – I’m so sorry,” she blurted, barely catching her breath before –

Her stomach dropped.

Because it wasn’t just Adam. It was all of them.

His entire family stood there, wrapped in warm coats and holiday cheer. And Lando – of course, Lando – was in the middle of it all, hands stuffed into his pockets, gaze locked onto her like he hadn’t been expecting this either.

She barely let her eyes flick to his before looking away, heart hammering.

“You’re always in such a rush, aren’t you?” Cisca asked, her voice as warm as ever.

“Yes, I’m working tonight, unfortunately,” she added, making them hear what she wanted rather than expressing her feelings.

“Oh, your mother told me about the shifts you’re taking and they still make you work during the day like this? That’s so sad,” she said, empathetically. His mother was always the angel and they had a great connection before this break.

She gave a light shrug, desperate to keep the conversation surface-level. “What can I say? Gotta work if I ever want to give my parents a break.”

It was the lie she’d been telling everyone. That she was saving for a down payment. That the extra shifts were a means to an end. A practical excuse for why she spent more time at the hospital than at home, drowning herself in work instead of drowning in the what-ifs of a relationship that no longer existed.

But it didn’t matter. Not when she could feel Lando’s eyes on her. Not when it took every ounce of strength to keep her own from slipping back to his.

“Well,” Cisca sighed, stepping aside to give her space to pass. “Stay safe, darling.”

She hesitated. A half-second, barely noticeable. And then, before she could stop herself, the words slipped out.

“Merry Christmas, fam.”

The moment she said it, she regretted it. The slip. The weakness. The betrayal of her own rules.

And then there was Lando.

For the first time since she stepped outside, she met his gaze. A brief, fleeting glance. A quiet acknowledgment of everything that still lingered between them.

She barely made a sound when she whispered, “Merry Christmas, Lando.”

Then, before she could give herself time to second-guess it, she turned on her heel and walked away, pulling her coat tighter around herself.

She didn’t wait for an answer. She couldn’t. Because she knew if she did – if she heard his voice, his words – her carefully built defenses would crumble.

But as she made it to her car, something soft, something broken, floated through the cold December air.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

And somehow this moment stung Lando more than anything else ever had.

______

Spring was warming up the air, shaking winter from the trees and stretching daylight just a little longer each evening. She had always hated this time of year – hated the way it pressed against her chest, thick with stress and expectations. First, it was the exams, the all-nighters, the anxious flipping of textbooks. Then, later, it became Lando’s schedule. The season kicking off, his world spinning faster while she tried to hold onto the edges.

This year, though, spring was something different. Unusually dull. Unnaturally calm. But it was for her to figure out if it was the kind of calm that comes before or after the storm.

By all accounts, she was doing well. She was thriving at work, getting used to the rhythm of long shifts and fast decisions. She had found herself a new apartment – small, but cozy, a space that was hers and hers alone. She even picked up jogging and pilates, things she used to roll her eyes at but now clung to as some kind of personal victory.

Some days were perfect. She would wake up, stretch in the morning light, sip her coffee in silence, and almost – almost – forget why her life looked the way it did now.

Emphasis on ‘almost.’

Because when you spend six years wrapped around someone else’s life, untangling yourself doesn’t happen overnight. Their friend groups overlapped too much, their histories bled into too many places, and avoiding him completely was impossible.

They had been careful, though. Calculated. She planned around GP weekends, making sure to show up to gatherings when he was halfway across the world, and skipping the ones when she knew he’d be visiting the home town. It worked. Until, inevitably, it didn’t.

That night, she hadn’t planned to see him. It was supposed to be a quiet evening. Just a handful of friends, drinks, some music humming in the background. Nothing major. Nothing painful. But then, sometime between her second glass of wine and the last lazy notes of an old song drifting through the air, she felt it.

That awareness. The way her skin prickled before she even turned her head. He was there.

Just across the room, laughing at something, his head thrown back, the sound of it familiar enough to sink straight into her bones. He looked... good. Relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen in a long time. And for a second she let herself wonder if she looked that way too. If he saw her and thought, ‘She’s okay. She’s moved on. She doesn’t miss me the way I miss her’.

It was unbearable. The way it made her stomach twist, the way it pulled something raw inside of her. It wasn’t just the sight of him, it wasn't just the proof that he still existed outside of her world – it was the realization that she still felt it. That she still felt everything.

So she left. Quietly. Without goodbyes. Without looking back.

By the time she got home, she was already peeling off her jacket, kicking off her shoes, slipping beneath the covers in the dark. Sleep would fix it. Sleep would dull the sharp edges, smooth over the crack in her chest.

Morning light bled through the thin curtains, painting soft streaks across the room. She stretched, rubbing at her puffy eyes, the lingering ache of last night still pressing heavy against her ribs.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he got to be fine. That he got to laugh and exist so easily in a world without her while she sat here, caught in the ghost of something that refused to fade.

Yet there was a surprise waiting for her when she picked up the phone.

A missed call at 3:48 am. And a voice note from him on her Instagram DMs followed.

Then, for just a second, something fluttered in her chest. A spark of something she didn’t want to name. Because maybe he had seen her last night. Maybe he had felt it too.

But reality was quick to sink its claws in, dragging her back down. No. This wasn’t that. This was probably drunk Lando. This was ‘bad decisions wrapped in nostalgia and gin’ Lando.

She should ignore it. But her thumb was already moving before her brain could stop her.

Click. Play.

“Heeeeeeeyyyy pretty girl.”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

He was drunk. The kind of drunk where words ran together, loose and careless.

“I’m so sorry for the call, I realized that you are probably working or worse – asleep – and just canceled it. Like I know that you would stab anyone who would dare to wake you up if it’s not important, and since I guess I no longer am, I—”

A hiccup. A pause.

Her stomach twisted. She should stop listening. But she didn’t.

“I just don’t know… Whenever I see you, you seem so fine, so moved on… And then there’s me, stuck between fake and being down. And you know what I do when I feel down? I go to the bar, the club. You name it. I scan a crowd looking for you. I never find you, because duh, why should I? You only went to these places for me.”

Her chest tightened. She had hated clubs with all her heart. The noise, the people, the way she never really fit into that world. She only went because he loved it. Because Lando loved the music, the energy, the thrill of it. And yet… after all this time, he was still looking for her in places she never truly belonged.

“So, I get the random girl and imagine it is you. I imagine you still care, laugh at my pick-up lines, take me home with you. I even moaned your name one time and the lady was pissed off, I got smacked, lol. Could you imagine…”

A sharp exhale left her lips.

God, he was an idiot. Saying things he had no business saying. Telling her things she shouldn’t know. She wanted to be mad. To roll her eyes, to call him out for being reckless, for dragging her back into the mess they were supposed to be untangling.

But she wasn’t mad. She was something else entirely. Because there, tangled between the words and the drunken confessions, was something she wasn’t ready to face. Regret. And worse – feelings that she thought was lost during all this. The kind that made the edges of her world blur for a moment, tilting just enough to make her wonder…

What if?

And then –

“I should have fought for you, you know? When you asked for this break. I was an idiot for letting you walk out the door so easily. Screw the ‘let’s see where we land’ thing. I already know where I’m landing. Now the ball is in your corner or whatever. So yeah, good chat. See you around.”

Silence.

Her heart was pounding.

She stared at the screen, her mind racing.

This wasn’t just some drunk butt dial. This wasn’t some half-hearted message he would brush off in the morning.

This was a line drawn in the sand. This was him saying, ‘I know what I want. Do you?’

She swallowed, her hands shaking as she locked her phone and pressed it to her chest.

She needed to breathe. She needed to think.

But later that day, when she opened the chat to replay the message and dissect every word it was gone.

Not even a trace of it ever existing.

And just like that, she was left with nothing but the weight of what could have been.

__________

She didn’t want to be here.

That much had been clear from the second she stepped onto Silverstone’s pavement, a familiar hum in the air, the smell of petrol and rubber hitting her in a way that made her stomach twist.

It wasn’t just the track – it was everything it represented. The years spent here, the routines, the nerves. The way she used to pace behind the pit wall, hands shoved into the pockets of a McLaren hoodie that wasn’t even hers, chewing on her bottom lip as she watched Lando push the car to its limits.

It was muscle memory to be here, and yet, it had never felt more foreign.

She had almost backed out, too, with the kind of last-minute excuse that wouldn’t fool her mother but might have been enough to let her go on with her weekend and avoid the inevitable. But the tickets had been a Christmas gift – from the Norris family, as per usual – and her parents had been so excited.

“It’s been too long since we all did something like this together. You used to go with him all the time while we were watching from the sidelines. Now we can switch places, you will be fine” her dad had said. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Fun. Right.

So she had caved. And when it was time to leave for Sunday GP, she still wanted to blend in the crowd. She knew there would be plenty of McLaren fans, so if you can’t beat them – join them. She took out a random t-shirt that was probably used way too many times. It was only after pulling it over her head that she realized which one it was.

His.

One he had left in her drawer ages ago, one she had slept in more nights than she could count.

It smelled like fabric softener instead of him now. That should have been a relief. It wasn’t. For a split second, she had almost taken it off. Almost buried it back in the drawer like it was some kind of cursed relic. But then she exhaled. It’s just a shirt. No one will even notice.

And at first she was perfectly flying over the radar. Her parents visited the paddock, while she stayed behind, blending in the crowds. She had perfected the art of blending in – cheering when appropriate, clapping at the right moments, never once letting her gaze wander too long in the direction of the papaya garage. And it was working wonders.

But then she ran into Emma. The fellow paramedic, who she had known both from the medical, and sports field, as she was a couple years older and worked with Papaya for a few years. One second, she was keeping her head down, avoiding anything orange, and the next, she was being pulled into McLaren hospitality because “It’s dead quiet before the race, and you have a paddock pass, so why not?”

She should have said no. Instead, she sat with Emma, catching up over bad coffee, pretending she wasn’t hyperaware of exactly where she was. Yet every time footsteps neared, her body tensed, anticipation coiling in her stomach like a reflex she hadn’t quite unlearned. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see him – it had happened before, and they had managed to be civil, distant in a way that felt almost rehearsed. But being here, surrounded by everything that made Lando Lando, made her feel too exposed.

Don’t get it wrong – she would always be a fan. Even if life took them further apart, even if one day they became nothing more than a distant memory, she would still admire him. The raw talent, the skill, the way he could take a car and make it his – that would never change.

But it had been eight months, and for the first time, she was starting to find a rhythm outside of them. A clarity she hadn’t thought possible. And yet. Eight months, and still, his drunken voice note rattled in her head like an echo trapped between her ribs. Eight months, and the thought of seeing him in his element – seeing him – made her stomach twist in ways she couldn’t quite decipher. Would it set her back? Or would it confirm that she was finally past it?

Five minutes into chatting, laughing like she wasn’t standing in the center of everything she had left behind, Oscar Piastri appeared, cradling his arm like it was more of an annoyance than an injury. It was impossible for her not to know or like Oscar – they would always lightly catch up and laugh whenever she visited a paddock. And she sure as hell knew that he was aware what was the reason behind her being absent recently.

“Hey, do me a favor,” he said, surprised to see her in the paddock, but not making a big deal out of it. “Tell me I’m being dramatic.”

She raised a brow. “You’re being dramatic.”

Oscar grinned. “That’s what I needed.”

They fell into easy conversation – nothing deep, just lighthearted jabs about how McLaren clearly needed her back on call, and how she had ditched them for something far less entertaining.

And then, as she was mid-sentence, Oscar’s eyes flicked to her shirt.

Her stomach dropped. She glanced down, realizing how obvious it was now, when she dropped her jacket off. The faded Lando Norris on the back. The small details only a real fan – or someone owning a similar t-shirt – would notice, proved this shirt wasn’t just merch, but his.

“That is not just any McLaren shirt.”

Her face went hot. “Oscar –”

“You’re both so full of shit,” he cut in, laughing.

Before she could protest, before she could even think, he was pulling out his phone.

“Oscar,” she warned.

“Relax,” he said, snapping the picture. “I’ll make it tasteful.”

So when later that day, after the GP was done and gone, her phone buzzed, she wasn’t surprised to see that Oscar had tagged her in a story, meant for a close friend's circle. At least he had decency not to post it publicly, sparing her from the speculation of people online.

A casual shot – Oscar grinning, arm still wrapped in tape, her beside him, mid-laugh. The caption?

“I’m here catching up with a friend, being all nice and all, and she’s still in his corner.”

She rolled her eyes and locked her phone, pretending she saw nothing. Lando rarely if ever checked other driver’s stories, so she thought that maybe she was safe.

What she didn’t know, that Lando was also tagged in it.

It was late by the time the high of his first home win finally started to wear off. It should have lasted longer. It should have been everything. And for a while, it was. The roar of the British crowd, the Union Jack wrapped around his shoulders, the feeling of standing on the top step at Silverstone – his Silverstone. It was a dream he’d had since he was a kid, a moment that was meant to feel like an ending and a beginning all at once.

But the thing about dreams is that you never picture them alone. And she wasn’t there. Not where she should have been, anyway.

He’d looked for her. Not consciously, not obviously, but when he turned toward the grandstands where his family sat – where she used to sit – his eyes found nothing but an empty space. And it was stupid to expect anything different. They weren’t that anymore. They weren’t anything, really.

But for the first time since she walked out, he let himself admit it. It still felt wrong doing this without her.

Later, exhausted but unwilling to sleep, he opened his phone, torn between drowning in nostalgia or holding onto the adrenaline of the win. He chose the latter. Scrolled through the tags, looking for a story to share. When he saw the notification from Oscar, he barely thought twice. Probably some congratulatory post, maybe something teasing him for taking so long to win here.

But when he clicked it, the world narrowed to a pinpoint.

Because there she was.

Not in the stands. Not in his family's section. But she had been there. And she was wearing his shirt. An old one, something he barely even remembered giving her, but she still had it. Still wore it.

His stomach tightened. She hadn’t wanted to see him. Hadn’t let him see her. But maybe he wasn’t the only one still looking for pieces of the past.

And maybe she wasn’t quite ready to let them go either.

______

There were still three days left until their one-year mark. Not that she was counting.

362 days had passed. 362 days of learning how to be her own person again. And, honestly? She wasn’t half bad at it.

She had figured out how to be alone without feeling lonely. She’d chased things she never made time for before, threw herself into work, into new routines, into a version of herself that wasn’t just an extension of him. And she liked who she was becoming – someone stronger, more driven, more sure of herself.

But did she still feel a pit in her stomach every time she thought about the fact that he wasn’t there to see it? Absolutely.

And maybe that was why she had convinced herself she just had to make it to a year. A clean number. One final milestone to tell her that they had really done it – walked away, stayed away and allowed them both to breath.

But then came the invitation. Max, persistently begging her to come. It’s his birthday, he’d want you there. And also, it was hard to lie to herself that three days would make her change her mind.

Before she knew it, she was standing in the middle of the chaos, clutching a drink she didn’t want, in a room that felt too damn small. The music was loud, the air thick with laughter and voices overlapping in that familiar, comfortable way. She had spent years in rooms like this, at parties just like this, orbiting the same people, the same circles. But tonight, she felt like a stranger.

And then she saw him. Across the room, back turned, laughing at something Max had said. Easy. Effortless. Like nothing had changed.

The last time she saw him, Lando was leaving Silverstone with his name echoing through the crowd. A winner. A hero. And she had watched from the screen of her phone, watching him have everything he ever wanted.

That realization made her stop in her tracks.

Because here he was, months later, standing in the center of a world that kept spinning without her. With only three GPs left, he was still a contender for the whole damn championship. He had managed to dodge all major drama, kept his head down, thrived. And now, surrounded by friends, by people who cared for him, cherished him, celebrated him – he looked free.

Happy.

And just like that, the thought hit her like a punch to the ribs. Maybe this should be it. Maybe this night should be her closure. Because if this past year had proven anything, it was that he didn’t need her. And as much as it twisted something deep inside her, maybe she was okay with that.

Maybe she could give up the what if in exchange for the freedom she had convinced herself he deserved. Even if her heart didn’t waver. Even if she was still his in ways she wished she wasn’t.

She turned on her heel, ready to leave this place. She knew that he was aware that she was here. So the checkmark ticked for their friends – she was here, she had cheered for him. Now it was time to leave all this behind them. Just as she was about to put the empty glass on the table by the door, she heard a familiar voice:

“Leaving so soon?”

His voice cut through the noise like a blade. She could barely hear it, but somehow, it still sent a shiver down her spine.

She didn’t turn back, not right away. She let out a breath, eyes shutting for half a second, before finally facing him.

“I was just –” She cleared her throat, finding it suddenly dry. “I was just stepping out.”

Something flickered in his eyes. He didn’t call her bullshit. Didn’t need to. Instead, he simply gestured toward the door.

“Me too.”

As they stepped outside, the air outside was crisp, a quiet relief from the overwhelming heat of the party. She crossed her arms over her chest, less for warmth, more for something to do. Lando stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels as he exhaled, long and slow.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

And then–

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

She let out something between a laugh and a scoff. “I wasn’t going to.”

His lips twitched. “Max?”

“Max.”

Silence again. But this one wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t unfamiliar. It was them. The kind of quiet that only came after knowing someone for years. The kind that held more weight than words.

Lando rocked back on his heels. “You didn’t have to come.”

She let out a breath, steadying herself. “I know.”

“Then why did you?”

She shifted on her feet, gaze flickering toward the door, toward the party she could easily slip back into. Away from this. But she didn’t move.

Instead, she sighed, voice softer now. “Because it’s your birthday.”

Lando exhaled through his nose, looking away for a moment. “I thought maybe you were done.”

“I thought so too,” she admitted. “I was trying to be.”

His gaze snapped back to her, something sharp behind his eyes. “Trying?”

Her stomach twisted. This was exactly what she had been afraid of – this conversation, the one she wasn’t sure she was ready to have. The one where she had to admit that all the time, all the space, all the growing hadn’t undone a damn thing.

“I didn’t want us to slip back,” she confessed. “Back into something that wasn’t healthy. Back into us, but wrong.”

Lando nodded, slow. “And do you think we would?”

She looked at him. At the way he was standing now, steadier, stronger, more him. At the way his face, older in ways that had nothing to do with time, still softened at the sight of her. At the way she still felt it. That pull. That certainty.

She swallowed hard. “No.”

He stepped forward. Not much. Just enough. And this time, he was the one to break the silence.

“You know what I realized?” His voice was quiet, careful. “That I could have the best day of my life, and it still wouldn’t be quite right.”

She stiffened.

“Because it’s not about someone seeing it,” he continued. “It’s about someone being there. It’s about looking over and knowing –” he broke off, shaking his head, then tried again. “I didn’t need you to see me win at Silverstone. Hell I didn't need you to witness any of this. I just –” his voice dropped even lower – “needed you. And then I saw you in that damn picture with my t-shirt on. It took everything in me not to drive to Bristol, looking for you.”

Her throat tightened. “Lando.”

“I know we did the right thing,” he said, brushing it off. “I know we needed time. I know we needed to fix things.” A pause. Then he looked dead into her eyes. “But tell me. Right now. That if we part ways now that you will be the happiest version of yourself.”

Now, she was standing in front of the person who had been both her greatest love and her hardest lesson. Now, she was staring at him, the weight of their history pressing in from all sides, and she still couldn’t imagine a life where she didn’t look for him in every crowd. Now, she was tired of pretending.

“I don’t regret what we did,” she whispered. Something flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t pull back. “I think we needed it,” she admitted. “I think we needed the space. The time. I think we needed to figure out who we were without each other.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. “And I did. I figured it out.”

Lando didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. “And?”

She hesitated, because saying it out loud made it real. Made it true. But after all the turmoil she owed him that much.

“I had good days,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Really good days. Days where I laughed so hard my ribs ached. Where I felt strong. Where I was proud of who I was becoming.”

Lando’s jaw tensed. She inhaled sharply.

“And then there were the other days. The ones where something amazingly good or amazingly bad happened, something I wanted to share, but I’d reach for my phone and realize – ” Her voice cracked. “Realize you weren’t there.”

Lando shut his eyes for a second, like he needed a moment to steady himself. “Yeah.”

Her chest tightened. “And you?”

His lips parted, but for the first time all night, words didn’t come so easily. So he exhaled, rubbed a hand over his jaw, and met her gaze with the kind of raw honesty that left no room for doubt.

“I had the best day of my life, and it still felt wrong because you weren’t there to see it.”

She blinked, chest tightening, but he wasn’t done.

“I had the worst day of my life too. And every instinct told me to go to you. And I couldn’t.”

Her throat burned.

“I used to think what we had was everything,” he murmured. “And then we broke apart, and I thought – maybe I was wrong. Maybe we were just young and caught up in something that was never meant to last.”

She held her breath.

“But then I lived without you. I learned how to be on my own. I grew. And I still came to the same conclusion.”

His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he was holding himself back.

“You are the only thing in my life that I’ve ever been sure of.”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she forced a watery laugh. “That’s funny,” she whispered. “Because I was just about to say the same thing.”

Lando’s shoulders fell, something breaking apart and putting itself back together all at once. And then he stepped forward. And so did she.

And when he kissed her, it wasn’t about picking up where they left off.

It was about choosing each other again. And they landed exactly where they needed to.

150 notes · View notes

wbbpls · 22 hours ago

Text

My Girl

Hi! I’m totally new to this, so I’m sorry if this is all over the place. lmk if you guys like it!

—————————————————————————-

After a tough win, the team gathered in Paige’s room since she is hosting the party. Paige is talking to Ice and KK in the kitchen when Azzi walked in. Azzi is her best friend, who might also be the love of her life. Not that Azzi needs to know that. Of course she’s stunning, even in a crop top and jean shorts. The past few months they’ve been crossing the appropriate lines for friendship with lingering touches and flirty banter.

Across the room, some guy was standing way too close to Azzi. Her Azzi. Paige knows Azzi isn’t hers, but it kills her to think of Azzi with anyone else. That guy keeps leaningt in closer and closer to Azzi. Paige tried to look anywhere else, but her eyes had a mind of their own, and Azzi felt those piercing blue eyes burning into her. When Azzi looked over at Paige, she saw something in her eyes she’d never seen before.

When he put his arm on her waist, Azzi stepped backward uncomfortably. Something took over Paige’s body, and suddenly, she was next to Azzi. Her long arms slid around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in and away from that guy. “Hey Az, sorry I took so long. Here’s your drink.”

Azzi leaned into Paige’s soft yet possessive touch. “That’s okay, I was just talking to, uh, Jake, right?”

Barely acknowledging Paige, he responds, “Yeah, so how about that dance?” Is this Jake guy serious? Paige literally has her arm wrapped around Azzi and she wasn’t even sure of his name. Azzi’s whole body stiffened as she leaned further into Paige. “I’m just gonna hang out with my team, but thanks.” He didn’t seem to care. “Aw c’mon Azzi, I’ll show you a good time.”

“She’s good.”

“I didn’t realize I needed to talk to security first. If you didn’t notice, I was talking to Azzi.”

Paige stepped in front of Azzi, making sure he couldn’t touch her. “If you didn’t notice, Azzi said no. So back the fuck off my girl and get out of my apartment.” It just slipped out, but god, Paige wishes she could call Azzi her girl every day.

“Her girl? You for real, Azzi?”

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend, so maybe give it up and leave us alone.” Speechless, Jake left quickly to avoid further embarrassment.

“Your girl, huh?” Azzi says as her hands rub up Paige’s biceps.

Paige wrapped her arms entirely around Azzi’s waist as if she’d done it every day of her life. Thankfully, the lights are low, hopefully blocking her blush. “Well, hopefully not his girl.”

“Yeah, definitely not looking to be his girl.”

“You lookin to be someone’s girl?” Paige’s eyes drifted down to Azzi’s lips, moving her hand to rest on her lower back. Azzi bites her lip, “Hm, no longer looking, just waiting for her to get it together.” Paige suddenly couldn’t breathe. Does that mean what she thinks it means? They always avoid these conversations, but the liquid courage is pushing boundaries. Paige can’t say that she’s in love with her. She can’t ruin their friendship and everything they’ve built, but she can’t stop touching Azzi either. “Uh, do you want to go dance?”

“Yeah, P, let’s go dance.” Azzi drops her hands down to Paige’s, and Paige starts to think maybe Azzi doesn’t want to stop touching either. The music feels like an excuse to be way closer than friends should, but it all happens so naturally. When Azzi starts to move her hips into Paige slowly, her breath hitches, and she grabs Azzi even tighter. Paige knows there’s no way they can use being best friends as an excuse anymore. She knows their teammates will tease her about this tomorrow, but it doesn’t matter because she has Azzi in her arms. As the beat speeds up, so do their hips as they grind into each other. A soft whimper leaves Azzi's mouth and Paige can’t help herself, “Fuck Az you’re so hot”

They are now face to face, their lips just an inch apart, and Azzi’s hands are in blonde strands. With a mischievous smirk, Azzi says “Yeah? You think so?”

“You have no idea.”

“Then show me.” Paige has never moved so fast in her life. She drags Azzi through the crowd and to her room. Slamming the door shut, Paige shoves Azzi against the wall with one hand on her waist and the other leaning above her head. “Say it again.”

Looking up at Paige with hooded eyes, Azzi practically whispers to Paige, “Show me.”

Paige leans in, their lips brushing, but not fully touching. “You sure, Az?” There’s no going back after this and Paige is praying they never have to.

“Paige, please. I want to be yours.” Something broke inside Paige, and she kissed her like her life depended on it. She’s dreamed of kissing her a million times over, but this kiss is better than she could have ever imagined. Azzi slightly opened her lips, inviting Paige’s tongue. Their kiss progressively got more passionate. Paige began to kiss down Azzi’s cheek to her neck, sucking and biting just to get Azzi to whimper.

“You wanna be mine, huh?” Paige chuckles and says possesivley as she leaves marks down her neck. Letting out a moan at the words, Azzi grips at the hair on the back of Paige’s neck, “Yes, fuck, P, you feel so good.” Paige slips one of her legs between Azzi’s and moves her hand just under Azzi’s breast. “Tell me what you want.”

Pulling Paige’s head back up to her face, Azzi breathes heavily, “I want to be yours, Paige.” Staring into her eyes, Paige finally says it. “You’re mine, Azzi.” Paige pulls at the back of Azzi’s legs, hinting for her to jump into Paige’s arms. Paige picks Azzi up and shoves her hard against the wall, kissing her even harder. Azzi leans her head back, “Mmh, I want you so bad.” Paige takes this as an opportunity to suck at her neck and grind into her hard. The moan that they both release is borderline embarrassing. Their lips reconnect, and Paige walks them over to her bed. “Fuck Az, you look so good,” she says as she straddles Azzi.

They both start pulling off each other’s clothes and grinding into each other. Paige’s hands are hovering dangerously above Azzi’s jean shorts. “Can I?” Azzi nods her head and pushes Paige’s hand down further. Paige fumbles with the button to her jeans as she kisses down her chest. She slips a finger down to rub at her clit. “Fuck, baby please.”

Paige isn’t sure if it’s the term of endearment or the begging, but she knows she’ll do anything Azzi wants. “Tell me who you belong to.” Paige slips two fingers deep into Azzi.

Azzi is a whimpering mess, with her eyes shut, gripping onto the sheets. Paige loves that she can’t speak, but she needs to hear Azzi say it. “Tell me, mama. Who do you belong to?”

“Yours, I’m yours, Paige, fuck!” Azzi yells out as Paige thrusts deeper into her.

“You’re so fuckin sexy, ma. You’re all mine.” Paige can feel Azzi getting tighter. “Your pussy that wet for me, baby?”

Azzi’s eyes are rolling into the back of her head as she grips onto Paige’s shoulder like her life depends on it. “I’m so close, don’t stop.”

Paige laughs at the idea, like she’d ever stop. “C’mon Az, when have I ever done you like that.“

“Paige I love you but shut up and fuck me” Azzi says breathlessly. Did she mean that or was it just in the moment of a fucked out haze? Paige slowed for a moment but knew she couldn’t stop now. She started to rub Azzi’s clit until her legs were shaking. Azzi came screaming her name as Paige continued to finger her guiding her off her high. Out of breathe, Azzi pushed Paige’s fingers away and pulled her up. Paige is trying to act normal about all of this, but Azzi just said she loved her.

Azzi must have noticed Paige’s hesitation, “What’s wrong, P?”

“You love me?” Even to Paige’s ears she could hear the insecurity. Azzi’s face softened as she rubbed across Paige’s jaw. “Of course I love you. I always have. I just have been too scared to push things and risk losing you.”

Paige starts laughing leaving Azzi confused. “Uh, what’s so funny about that?”

“Baby, I’m so fuckin in love with you and we are so dumb.” Azzi smiles, showing those beautiful dimples. “I guess we deserve each other, hm? Maybe now I can return the favor and show you how much I love you.”

Paige can’t believe this is real. Azzi is her girl.

#paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics

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nocompromise-noregrets · 2 hours ago

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Oh, they dress themselves identically. :D It is a conscious and deliberate choice from their earliest days.

(I headcanon them as one soul in two bodies, more or less, which adds to the identicalness somewhat)

Only their parents and Arwen can tell them apart by looking at them. A few people who know them really well can tell which is which by mannerisms and listening to them speak (Elladan is slightly more brusque and sharp and impulsive, Elrohir is slightly more calm and gentle and considered). A very very few people have worked out that they stand in alphabetical order as you look at them (Elladan on the left, Elrohir on the right), much like Ant and Dec. Everyone else has no earthly clue. Which they heartily encourage, partly for insular us-against-the-world reasons and partly because they think it's really funny. :D

Ioreth thinks she can tell them apart, but she can't.

(extract from that fic under the cut because it still makes me laugh)

After everything was over, the Ring was destroyed and the Enemy defeated, the twins’ long quest to avenge their mother over at last, Arwen was amused and somewhat bewildered to see her brothers parading through the streets of Minas Tirith one on each arm of a small, elderly woman who never quite seemed to stop talking and who had opinions on absolutely everything that had happened over the last weeks. They were smiling, laughing even, tolerating the woman telling them what to do, fetching and carrying for her, treating her like a queen, and much as Arwen rejoiced to see hints of their old carefree selves, she could not quite understand how such a transformation could have been wrought so swiftly.

“What is going on, meleth-nín?” she asked Aragorn, quietly, as they and Legolas visited the Houses of Healing to speak with those who were still recovering from their injuries, watching the old woman confidently address Elladan by Elrohir’s name and Elrohir by Elladan’s. “Who is that woman and what on Arda has she done to my brothers?”

Aragorn chuckled softly. “That, meleth, is Ioreth. She is a skilled healer, to be certain, but also a very skilled gossip, and a purveyor of the most outlandish old wives’ tales. And she seems to have adopted the twins.”

“And she thinks she can tell them apart,” said Legolas, his soft voice full of amusement. “No matter who tells her that only those closest to them know with any certainty which of them is which, she is quite confident.”

“She almost never gets it right, and when she does it is purely by luck,” said Aragorn. “I think they are going along with it, pretending to be each other. It seems to amuse them.”

“Well, Varda knows they have been in need of amusement for a long time,” said Arwen, “but they have not pretended to be each other since we were barely more than Elflings.”

“We’re not certain,” said Legolas, “since you and your father are the only ones who can truly tell them apart, but it is most disconcerting to think one has worked out which is which from how they speak and behave, as the rest of us must do, and then have that completely upended.”

“I suppose so,” said Arwen, for she knew that others must rely on their knowledge of the twins’ personalities, Elladan slightly more abrasive and inclined to swearing, Elrohir softer-spoken and inclined to smoothing the feathers his brother had ruffled. “But -” and she broke off, staring, as across the room the twins, bringing more supplies to the old woman, were met with a long and rather complicated demand for something else that they had not brought.

“Manwë’s balls, woman!” barked Elrohir - Elrohir, Arwen’s lovely, soft-spoken brother who hardly swore and never snapped. “You couldn’t have told us that the first time?”

“Before we went to the stillroom?” added Elladan, much more gently, almost pleadingly, and Arwen could only gape as the old woman giggled - giggled, coquettishly, and batted her eyelashes at them.

“Well, perhaps I just like to make you work,” she said. “Now, hop to it, there’s good lads.”

And the twins just - went. They glanced at Arwen as they passed, and Elladan - Arwen was sure it was Elladan, though they were even standing in the wrong order - waggled his eyebrows, flashing her a grin.

Arwen pressed her hand to her heart, feeling distinctly off-balance. “Is this what being mortal feels like, meleth-nín?” she asked, rather faintly. “I feel as though I need to sit down.”

do you guys think that elrond is the kind of dad to dress the twins identically

#lotr #<3333333 #the twins! the TWINS!#don't mind me i have a ludicrous amount of headcanons for those two XDDDD

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theonottsbxtch · 18 hours ago

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LOW LIFE | LN4

an: LMAO DID I JUST ACCIDENTLY WRITE MY OWN FIRST SMUT LMAO @iimplicitt IS STILL IN SHOCK BUT IT JUST HAPPENED.

wc: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT MDNI (18+), drug use, cheating, graphic? sex

LANDO NORRIS WAS THE KING OF THE ICE—MVP, team captain, the kind of player scouts drooled over. Fast, ruthless, unstoppable. On the rink, he was untouchable. Off it? He was a ticking time bomb.

The parties, the girls, the drugs—it all blurred together in a haze of neon lights and bad decisions. He lived for the rush, for the next high, for the next night he wouldn’t remember. And then came her.

She was off-limits. Oscar’s girl.

Oscar, his teammate, his so-called best mate, the one guy who still believed Lando had a shot at going pro if he could just get his act together. And she was his. The perfect hockey girlfriend—pretty, polished, and loyal, at least in theory.

But Lando saw the cracks. The way her gaze lingered when Oscar wasn’t looking. The way she bit her lip when he got too close. She wasn’t as untouchable as she wanted to be. And Lando? He never turned down a challenge.

One night, a club. Oscar was out of town. She was bored. One too many drinks, a little bit of molly, and suddenly, she wasn’t resisting anymore.

Lando didn’t love her. He didn’t even know if he liked her. But he knew she’d come back. They always did.

Their affair was a game, a sick addiction—sneaking around, pretending there were rules when there weren’t. She hated him. She wanted him. She swore it would stop, but it never did.

Then the cracks shattered.

A video. A night they couldn’t take back. It spread through the team like wildfire, through the uni, through Oscar.

Lando never claimed to be a good guy. He never pretended to play fair. And now? Now, he was about to lose everything—his captaincy, his shot at the league, his best mate.

But the worst part?

He still wanted her.

And he was willing to burn the whole fucking world down to keep her.

7 months ago:

The first time Lando really noticed her, she was wearing Oscar’s jersey.

She was standing just outside the rink after a game, her hair still damp from the cold, laughing at something Oscar had said. Lando should’ve kept walking, but something about the way she smiled made him pause. It wasn’t just pretty—it was effortless, like she wasn’t even trying.

And then she looked at him.

Just a flicker, a half-second too long, before she turned back to Oscar. But Lando felt it. That awareness.

He ignored it. At least at first.

It wasn’t like he needed another complication. His whole life was a balancing act—keeping his grades just high enough to stay eligible, keeping his nose clean enough for the scouts to stay interested, keeping his habits in check enough that the coaches didn’t start asking too many questions.

Besides, he had options. Plenty of them. Girls who didn’t come with consequences.

But she was different.

Not just because she was Oscar’s, but because she wasn’t like the others. She didn’t throw herself at him. She barely looked at him when Oscar was around. She should have been safe.

She wasn’t.

The first mistake was at a party.

The whole team was celebrating a win, the kind of night that blurred into neon lights and sticky floors. Lando had already taken something by the time she showed up, a slow burn in his veins, turning everything soft around the edges.

He saw her first.

She was wearing something tight, something short. Not for him, but it didn’t matter. Because he saw the way her eyes flicked to him when she thought Oscar wasn’t watching. The way her breath hitched when he brushed past her.

She stayed close that night. Close enough that he could smell her perfume, close enough that when she reached for a drink, her fingers skimmed his.

Oscar left early. She didn’t.

Neither did Lando.

It wasn’t planned. He wouldn’t even call it intentional. But the second they were alone, the tension cracked like a shot to the glass.

“You’re drunk,” she murmured when he backed her against the wall.

“So are you.”

She should’ve pushed him away. She didn’t.

And when he kissed her, she kissed him back.

It was a mistake. One they should’ve never repeated.

But they did.

It became a pattern.

It became an addiction.

Oscar would go to bed early after a game, and she’d stay up just a little longer. Oscar would go grab drinks, and she’d glance at Lando across the room. It was never enough to prove anything—but it was enough.

Enough to make it impossible to stop.

The first time he fucked her, it was after another party, both of them high, half-drunk, caught between a hotel room door and a terrible decision. She was gasping his name, fingers digging into his back, and he didn’t even feel guilty.

Because it didn’t feel wrong.

It felt like something that had been waiting to happen all along.

He told himself it wouldn’t happen again.

But it did.

Again. And again. And again.

She never left Oscar. She never tried. Maybe she told herself it wasn’t real, that Lando was just another bad habit, another high she couldn’t quit.

But Lando knew better.

Because she wasn’t the only one addicted.

He should’ve stopped before it got messy. Before the video. Before Oscar found out.

But Lando never stopped anything.

Not until it was too late.

And by then, it wasn’t just his career on the line.

It was everything.

The morning before the end of her world, she woke up to a pounding headache and a sinking feeling in her stomach.

The room was too bright, the hotel curtains half-open, letting in the early morning light that made everything look too real. A slow, creeping nausea settled in as she forced herself to blink.

The sheets weren’t hers.

The bed wasn’t hers.

The shirt she was wearing sure as hell wasn’t hers.

Fuck.

She sat up too fast, the room tilting as last night hit her in flashes - booze, a long drive, Lando’s hand on her thigh in the car, his breath against her neck in the elevator. The taste of him still on her tongue.

Panic clawed up her throat.

And more importantly- where was Oscar?

Her heart was hammering as she shoved the sheets away, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, but before she could move, a lazy voice cut through the silence.

“Relax.”

She turned, pulse spiking, to find Lando sprawled on the other side of the bed. Shirtless, half covered in the sheets, arm thrown over his forehead like he didn’t have a single fucking care in the world.

Like this wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened.

“You look like you’re about to be sick,” he muttered, blinking at her through heavy lidded eyes. His voice was hoarse from sleep, slow and thick, and so fucking casual it made her skin craw.

She was about to be sick.

“Where the fuck are we?” she snapped, voice sharper than she meant it to be.

Lando groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair before reaching for something on the nightstand. “Couple hours out. Middle of nowhere. You insisted we get away before Oscar got home, remember?”

She didn’t. But she believed it.

Her fingers clenched around the hem of the shirt, his shirt, realising she wasn’t wearing anything else beneath it. Her stomach twisted.

“This is bad,” she whispered. “This is really fucking bad.”

Lando just hummed, reaching for the little plastic bag sitting next to his phone. She watched in muted horror as he dipped his pinky finger into the powder and brought it to his nose, inhaling it like it was nothing. Like this wasn’t a complete fucking disaster.

“Chill,” he muttered, voice nasally as he sniffed again. “You'll give yourself wrinkles stressing like that. Shit, you’re stressing me out.”

She stared at him, breath coming too fast, too shallow. “Lando, Oscar is going to kill me.”

At that, he actually laughed.

“Kill you?” He scoffed, shaking his head before leaning back against the pillows, watching her through hooded eyes. “No, sweetheart. If anything, he’s gonna kill me.” He tapped a finger against his chest, smirking. “And I don’t plan on dying today, so…”

He reached for her wrist before she could move, tugging her back onto the bed like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Stay.”

She resisted, barely, fingers digging into the sheets, trying to hold onto whatever little self-control she had left.

“I need to go,” she muttered.

Lando tugged her closer. Not hard, not rough. Just enough to make it impossible to leave.

“Not yet.”

Her breath caught.

“Land-”

His lips brushed her bare shoulder. Just a ghost of a touch. Just enough to make her shiver.

“You made your choice last night,” he murmured. “Might as well enjoy it.”

She wanted to push him away.

She didn’t.

Because Lando was right.

She had already made her choice.

And deep down, they both knew-

She wasn’t going anywhere.

Lando’s breath was warm against her skin, his lips ghosting over her shoulder, lazy but deliberate. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he knew she wasn’t going to pull away.

And she should.

She should push him off, grab her things, and get the fuck out of this hotel room before it got even worse.

But his fingers were already sliding up her thigh beneath the sheets, slow and teasing, his grip just firm enough to make her breath hitch.

“Lando…” Her voice came out weaker than she wanted, barley a whisper.

“Mm?” He hummed against her skin, his mouth brushing the side of her neck now, his stubble scratching just enough to make her shiver.

She swallowed hard. “I need to go.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his fingers tightening on her thigh as he pulled her fully into his lap, pressing her back against his bare chest.

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, nosing along the curve of her jaw. His other hand came up to push her hair aside, exposing more of her neck. “But you’re still here.”

She clenched her thighs together, but Lando’s hand was already between them, fingers tracing just under the hem of his oversized shirt.

She hated how easily he could do this - how he could make her body betray her even when her brain was screaming at her to stop.

Hated how much she wanted him.

His hand slid higher, his fingers grazing just over the lace of her panties, a teasing brush that sent heat curling through her stomach.

“You’re fucking dangerous,” she breathed.

Lando grinned against her neck, his teeth catching just enough skin to make her gasp.

“And yet…” His fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear, dragging them down, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.

“You’re still in my bed.”

And just like that- she stopped fighting it.

She let him pull her back down, let herself sink into the sheets, into him, into the inevitable.

Because she knew the truth.

She was never leaving.

Not really.

Lando’s hands were everywhere.

Sliding up the curve of her thighs, gripping her hips as he pulled her back against him, his breath hot and slow against her neck. She could feel him - hard and insistent, pressing against her.

She should stop this.

She should.

But then his fingers were slipping up higher beneath her borrowed shirt, skimming over her stomach, higher-

Her breath hitched.

He smirked against her skin.

“See?” His voice was low, rough with sleep and something darker. “I knew you weren’t in a rush to leave.”

She wasn’t.

Not when his lips were trailing down her neck, his hands gripping her like he owned her. Like there was no point in pretending she was anyone else’s.

Because wasn’t that the truth?

Oscar might have had her first.

Might still think he had her now.

But this?

This was Lando’s.

And she fucking hated herself for it.

He nudged her thighs further apart, his fingers dragging back down her stomach, slow, teasing-

Then the phone rang.

A shrill vibration from the nightstand, cutting through the thick haze of heat and need.

She froze.

Lando didn’t.

His fingers kept moving, sliding lower, dipping into her, his mouth brushing her ear.

“Don’t answer it.”

She swallowed, pulse hammering in her throat.

The phone kept ringing.

Lando let out a slow, exasperated sigh before reaching past her, grabbing it off the table without properly looking at the screen.

And then he smirked.

“You should probably get this,” he murmured, turning the screen towards her.

Her stomach dropped.

Oscar.

Her hands were shaking as she took the phone from him, but before she could sit up properly, Lando grabbed her wrist, dragging her back down against him.

“Don’t move,” he muttered.

She shot him a glare, but he just grinned, fingers now idly tracing circles against her bare thigh and she hesitated- then answered.

“H-hey,” she said, voice strained.

Oscar’s voice came through the line, casual. Trusting.

“Hey, darling. Can we talk when you’re back from your mum’s?”

Lando grinned.

She felt sick.

Oscar exhaled a slow breath. “The boys showed me this video, and I want to talk about it.”

Her heart stopped.

“I don’t think it’s you, but it’s best we clear the air with what the guys are saying, it’s silly I know.” Oscar continued while she struggled to catch her breath.

Lando must’ve felt her tense, because he laughed - low and lazy, dragging his fingers back up her thigh and in between them, completely unbothered as her entire fucking world crumbles aroundher.

She couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t speak.

Because she knew.

She knew exactly what video he was talking about.

And it sure as fuck wasn’t a highlight reel.

It was the video that made her call Lando last night.

It was the video that led her to this hotel room.

Her hand tightened around the phone.

Her mouth had gone dry, her stomach twisting into a brutal knot, but she forced a weak, “Yeah, sure.”

Oscar exhaled, oblivious. “Cool. I love you.”

She hung up.

Didn’t say it back.

The second the call disconnected, Lando plucked the phone from her fingers and tossed it onto the nightstand.

Then he laughed again.

A low, smug, wicked sound as his hand made itself comfortable in between her thighs, his mouth ghosting over her neck.

“Well,” he murmured, dragging his teeth over her skin. “That’s unfortunate.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’re a fucking dick.”

He hummed. “Yup.” His fingers teasing over her already aching core.

She wasn’t meant to be feeling this way.

“But as I said before, you’re still here.”

She should leave.

She should be horrified.

Instead, her body betrayed her.

She gasped as his fingers stroked slow, deliberate circles against her, her back arching as heat curled through her stomach.

Guilt tangled with need, twisting into something dangerous, something irresistible.

Her boyfriend had just told her he loved her.

And here she was- spreading her legs for his fucking teammate.

She hated herself.

But she didn’t stop.

Didn’t fight it when Lando rolled her onto her back, his dark eyes burning with amusement, with something possessive.

“You feel guilty,” he murmured, pulling her shirt off.

She didn’t answer.

He smirked. “Good.”

Then he was inside her, stretching her open in one slow, merciless thrust.

She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

“Fuck-”

Lando groaned, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her closer, deeper, his mouth brushing over hers in something that wasn’t quite a kiss.

“You think about him?” he whispered, rolling his hips, making her whimper. “You think about your boyfriend while you let his teammate fuck you?”

Her nails dug into his back. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, slow and sinful before grabbing her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“Say my name.”

She shook her head, panting, her body trembling beneath him.

“Say it,” he demanded, thrusting deeper.

She broke.

“Lando.”

His smirk was pure sin.

“Good girl.”

And then she stopped thinking.

Stopped caring.

Let herself drown in the feeling of him, in the way he ruined her, in the way she let him.

And the guilt?

It only made it better.

Her body was betraying her.

Pleasure coiled tight in her stomach, hotter, sharper, with every brutal thrust. She could feel it building, could feel herself unraveling under Lando’s hands, under his weight, under the way he was destroying her.

And he knew it.

He could feel it.

His smirk was pure sin as he drove into her, as he dragged his teeth over her neck, sucking a hickey just where Oscar would see it later.

“You gonna come for me?” His voice was dark, teasing, bruising on her hips. “Gonna let me fuck you out of every last bit of guilt?”

She shook her head, a whimper escaping her lips, but he just chuckled.

“Liar.”

He dropped his hand between them, fingers finding her clit, rubbing slow, devastating circles that made her back arch, her body tightening around him.

“Come on,” he whispered, voice dripping with wicked amusement. “Be a good girl and let go. Let him hear it when he calls back.”

Her breath hitched.

God, she hated him.

Hated the way he knew exactly how to push her, how to twist the knife in her guilt, how to make her body betray her completely.

Because she was close.

So fucking close.

And the Lando pressed his forehead against hers, chain dangling between the two of them, his breath hot, his voice a low growl-

“Come for me, cheater.”

She broke.

Her entire body tense, pleasure ripping through her in waves so intense she thought she might black out. She gasped, nails sinking into his shoulders, a wrecked moan spilling from her lips-

And Lando fucking laughed.

Low, sinister, utterly satisfied.

“That’s my girl.”

He didn’t slow. Didn’t give her a second to recover before he took her again, chasing his own release, using her for it, dragging her deeper into his twisted, fucked-up world.

And she let him

Because at this point, there was no coming back.

Her body was wrecked.

Still trembling, still pulsing around him, her mind fogged with the aftershocks of her orgasm- but Lando wasn’t stopping.

He wasn’t done with her.

He gripped her thighs and pushed them wider, dragging her even deeper onto his cock, making her whimper from the sensitivity.

“Too much?” His voice was teasing, smug, but there was something cruel under it, something that enjoyed watching her squirm.

She nodded, breathless, her whole body shivering-

But he just smirked.

“Too bad.”

His thrusts slowed, but they were deep, drawn out, dragging against every sensitive nerve inside her. She gasped, her legs twitching, hands gripping at his biceps, trying to ground herself, but Lando was relentless.

“You can take it,” he muttered, dragging a hand up her stomach, hand pressing down on her lower belly. “You’re already so fucked out, but I bet you’ll come for me again.”

She shook her head, biting her lip hard enough to hurt, trying to fight the pleasure that was already creeping back in-

He chuckled darkly.

“Cute that you think you have a choice.”

Then his hand slid between them, fingers finding her overstimulated clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles.

Her whole body jerked, a strangled sound leaving her throat.

“L-Lando.”

“I love hearing you say my name like that,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her ear. “All soft. All fucked out.”

She whimpered, a tear slipping down her cheek from the intensity, but he just licked it off her skin, laughing under his breath.

“Poor thing,” he murmured, his voice mocking, his fingers never stopping. “Feeling guilty?”

Yes.

So fuckign much.

But her body didn’t care.

Because she was close again, pleasure building fast, even more devastating than before.

Lando felt it. He felt the way she clenched around him, the way her thighs trembled, the way she was completely at his mercy.

And he loved it.

“Come for me again, cheater,” he whispered, his thrusts getting sharper and faster. “Come while your boyfriend is waiting to talk to you.”

That broke her.

Her second orgasm hit like a gunshot, pleasure searing through her like white-hot lightning. She cried out, body locking up, vision blurring, and Lando groaned as she clenched around him, taking everything he gave her.

Her mind went blank.

She couldn’t think.

Could barely breathe.

And Lando?

He just grinned.

Because she knew why she came back to him every time.

Because she was completely his now.

And there was no going back.

Poor Oscar.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore @driverlando

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sturniololuvz · 3 days ago

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Can you do a fic where the sister gets into a bad fight with Matt and he never gets mad but he pushed her and yelled at her and ignored her for weeks and it broke her and Nick walked past her room one night and heard her sobbing while saying I miss Matty

okk

“I Miss Matty”

Matt Sturniolo x sister

Matt had never been the type to get truly angry—frustrated, sure, but never mad. Especially not at Y/N. Out of the three triplets, he was the most patient with her, the one who always defended her, the one who made sure she knew she was loved no matter what.

But that night was different.

That night, everything exploded.

It started with a stupid argument. Something small, something that shouldn’t have escalated, but it did. Y/N had been sneaking out—Matt found out. He wasn’t even yelling at first, just disappointed, and that alone was enough to make her defensive. She hated when they looked at her like that, like she was a kid who needed to be fixed.

“You don’t get to control me, Matt!” she snapped, arms crossed. “I’m not a baby!”

“I never said you were,” Matt said through gritted teeth. “But do you even know how dangerous it is? You think you’re invincible? What if something happened to you, Y/N?”

“I can take care of myself!”

“That’s not the point!”

The shouting continued, getting louder, more heated. Matt was always the calm one, but this time, he wasn’t letting it go. He wasn’t backing down. And when Y/N rolled her eyes and tried to push past him, something inside him snapped.

Before he could stop himself, Matt shoved her back—not hard, but enough to make her stumble.

And the second he did it, everything went silent.

Y/N stared at him in shock, her chest rising and falling. Matt had never put his hands on her like that before. He had never even yelled at her the way he just did. But the worst part? He didn’t apologize.

Instead, he scoffed. “You know what? Do whatever you want.”

Then he walked away, leaving her standing there, feeling like her whole world had just cracked open.

The Weeks That Followed

Matt didn’t talk to her after that. Not really. He’d acknowledge her when necessary, but there were no jokes, no teasing, no casual conversations. Just cold indifference.

And it broke her.

She thought maybe he’d cool down after a few days, but the days stretched into weeks, and nothing changed. Chris and Nick noticed, of course. They tried to fill in the gap, but it wasn’t the same.

Matt was her person. And now it felt like he wasn’t even there anymore.

The Night Nick Heard Her

It was late. The house was quiet. Nick had just gotten up to grab a drink when he passed by Y/N’s room. He hadn’t meant to stop, but something made him pause.

A sound.

Soft at first, but when he really listened, he could hear it—quiet, muffled sobs coming from inside.

His heart clenched. He had seen Y/N upset before, but this? This was different.

Then he heard her whisper something, her voice thick with tears.

“I miss Matty…”

Nick’s stomach dropped.

He didn’t hesitate before pushing open her door.

Y/N was curled up on her bed, her pillow soaked with tears, shoulders shaking. She looked up in surprise when she saw Nick, quickly wiping at her face.

“N-Nick, what are you—”

“Shut up,” he muttered, immediately sitting on the edge of her bed. “What’s going on with you?”

Y/N sniffled, looking away. “Nothing.”

Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N…”

She swallowed, gripping the blanket tightly. “He hates me.”

Nick’s chest ached. “He doesn’t hate you.”

“He hasn’t talked to me in weeks,” she whispered. “He won’t even look at me.” A fresh wave of tears spilled down her face. “I know I messed up, but—” her voice cracked—“he’s never treated me like this before. He’s never hated me before.”

Nick didn’t know what pissed him off more—the fact that Matt was still holding onto this, or the fact that Y/N genuinely believed Matt hated her.

“Stay here,” Nick said, standing up.

“Nick, don’t—”

But he was already out the door.

The Confrontation

Nick found Matt in the living room, scrolling on his phone like nothing was wrong.

“Hey,” Nick snapped.

Matt looked up. “What?”

“You need to fix this.”

Matt frowned. “Fix what?”

Nick clenched his jaw. “Y/N is in her room crying right now because she thinks you hate her.”

Matt stiffened.

“She misses you, dude,” Nick continued, his voice softer now. “And I know you miss her too. So what the hell are you doing?”

Matt looked down, suddenly unable to meet Nick’s gaze. He swallowed, his throat tight.

Nick sighed. “Look, I get it. She pissed you off. She made a mistake. But you pushing her away like this? That’s not you, man. You don’t shut her out. You are the one person she never has to worry about losing.”

Matt felt something in his chest crack.

He had been so caught up in his own anger, in proving a point, that he hadn’t realized how much he was hurting her.

Without another word, he got up and made his way to Y/N’s room.

The Apology

Y/N was still curled up in bed when her door creaked open. She assumed it was Nick coming back, but when she turned over, she froze.

It was Matt.

He didn’t say anything at first—just walked over and sat down beside her.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, in a voice so quiet it almost broke her, Matt whispered:

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s breath hitched.

Matt exhaled shakily. “I was mad, and I handled it wrong. I shouldn’t have pushed you, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I definitely shouldn’t have ignored you for this long.” He ran a hand down his face. “I don’t hate you, Y/N. I could never hate you.”

Her eyes welled up again, but this time, they weren’t just from sadness.

“I thought I lost you,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Matt’s heart shattered.

Without thinking, he pulled her into a tight hug. “Never,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her head. “You’re my sister. You’re my Y/N. I’m so sorry for making you feel like you weren’t.”

Y/N clung to him, her tears soaking into his hoodie, but this time, she wasn’t crying because she was broken.

She was crying because she had Matty back.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo #sturniolos #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sister sturniolo #sturniolo series

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maxispixels · 3 days ago

Text

HANDPICKED

PART FOURTEEN.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

3k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around (more) 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy ? (very)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Part ten. Part eleven. Part twelve. Part thirteen. Part fourteen.

The bell rang over your head, welcoming. It felt like spring inside of four walls, the smell of flowers and a herbal blend of tea greeted you almost as warmly as Rose, a nice break from the cutting wind drying your skin. A lot of boxes and other deliveries were still unopened. When she saw the scratches on your hands and the bruising around your brow bone though, her soft smile got replaced by tight lips.

“What happened to you?” she asked eagerly, stepping around the counter surprisingly fast for a limping lady, her wrinkled hands cradling your face. “Did that punk do that?” Her voice rose, gingerly squishing your cheeks.

“What?” You blinked at her. “No. No, not at all!�� You were so offended by her accusations, you lost all ability to remember and tell the lie you had prepared for this. “I got in a fight and punched some guy at a bar—” You blurted out so honestly that she could only believe you, no matter how surreal you getting in a fight in a bar seemed.

“You? Punched some guy at a bar?” She repeated in a mix of awe and disbelief, before shaking her head. “You know what? I’m not going to ask. We got all of our deliveries for Christmas, unpack it, I don’t pay you to stand here.”

“I just got here!” you protested, but she scolded you like you’d been lounging all day.

“With 30 minutes lateness.”

That got you. You groaned, defeated, feeling your face flushed at the memory of your reason for being late, the mere thought reminding you of the lingering warmth of Hobie’s arms around your stomach.

Without any more playful bickering, you kneeled to the cardboard boxes, precision knife in hand as you carefully unravelled beautifully red poinsettia trees, small pine trees and other branches and wires.

You had a few commands for Christmas wreaths and decorated small Christmas trees. So you sat in the back and mostly worked on that, as Rose was more fit to handle customers than crafts, her trembling hands making it hard to carefully use secateurs.

You weaved together flowers, red ribbons, stars and angels on pine branches, your hands roughened and smelling like cedar. You had gotten a few small cuts, but you often did when you had to work like that. It didn’t really hurt, you had gotten used to your hand stinging.

Rose checked on your progress a few times, dropping pieces of advice, that were really just orders said nicely, for your arrangements.

You helped her out a few times with hanging decorations around the shop, until she left earlier in the afternoon, leaving you to tie the ribbons behind the counter.

By the end of the week, you were ready for December, christmas wreaths nicely arranged on the shop’s shelf, flowery christmas trees at every corners of the room, red and white ribbons, mistletoes, and the sweet smell of the sugar cookies Rose left for you.

When the bell above the door jingled again, a sound familiar and so harmless, you thought it was Rose finally coming back for her purse.

“I put it in the back, next to the kettle.” You mumbled without much more thought, working on an intricate knot.

And when you were met with nothing breaking the silence but a rumbling breath, you had to look up. Your breath caught in your throat, choking you silent.

Bob, Rob, Robert, whatever his name was, stood in the doorway, his silhouette blocking out the gray light from the street behind him. He looked rough, bruising still faint along his jaw, a split lip healing ugly.

You weren’t ready for this, not now. Not alone. The last time you saw him, there had been fists, anger, the taste of blood in your mouth. Hobie wasn’t there. No security, no one to pull you out if things turned ugly . You gripped the counter, legs unsteady.

“Unsure what you got in the back, but I assume you didn’t expect me.” He mumbled, in a feeble attempt at humor.

You weren’t sure how to react, your eyes wide as cold sweat ran down your back. You were expecting him to pounce at any time, your fingers even discreetly reaching for scissors or something in case of emergency.

But he didn’t move. And then in all his rough, awkward glory, Robert sighed, scratched at the stubble on his chin, and muttered, “D’ya have flowers for a tosser needin’ to apologize?”

It broke the tension like a stone through glass. You blinked, and if you weren’t shaking in your boots, you would’ve scoffed.

“What?”

He shifted, looking uncomfortable under your stare. Like a child getting scolded. “I dunno. Somethin’ that says I was a proper arse, but, y’know, with petals.”

You didn’t move. Your body still buzzed with the echoes of fear, of old instincts telling you to get ready to run or fight. But he just stood there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes flicking around like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Are you trying to apologize to me? Is that a joke? Or have you been visited by the three ghosts of Christmas or something?” You muttered tentatively, a hint of something mocking in your tone, despite the shakiness of your voice.

He rolled his eyes, before exhaling sharply. “Ain’t here to fight. Swear.”

It was supposed to reassure you, but it didn’t, not yet. You stayed still, watching him step closer, waiting for the punchline of whatever cruel joke this might be.

He reached for a small ceramic trinket, a tiny, painted poodle, and turned it over in his fingers, gently rolling his thumb over it. A habit, a nervous tick, something he needed to fidget with for a moment.

Just like Hobie.

Your stomach twisted and you swallowed hard.

They had the same sharpness, the same exhaustion, the same anger buried under layers of bitterness. But where Hobie had fire, Robert had something hollowed out inside him. Something that made him mean, something that made him lash out inside of pulling people close.

“I was a real prick to you,” he muttered, looking down at the old poodle. “Said shit I shouldn’t have.”

You stiffened. “You don’t say.”

That almost got a laugh out of him. Almost.

Silence settled again, but it wasn’t the same as before. You studied him, still wary, still unsure. You should hate him. Maybe you did. But it was hard to look at him now, bruised and tired, and not think of Hobie. Of how easy it would’ve been for things to go differently, for Hobie to be the one standing here with more anger than love left in his chest.

Finally, Robert sighed and set the tiny ceramic pup back down. “Hobart pulled my arse out of a real mess the other day. Coulda let me get nicked. Shoulda, probably.”

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

He rolled his shoulders, like the memory was physically uncomfortable. “Were to the same protest. T’got bad. Couldn’t get out quick enough. Hobie could. But he didn’t.”

You could picture it too easily. Hobie, exasperated but unwilling to leave someone behind. Even Robert.

You crossed your arms, heart still pounding, but something about the situation was shifting.

Robert sighed again, like he hated what he was about to say. “I guess I owe him a little now. But that doesn’t matter, whatever went sour between us—shouldn't have taken it out on you.”

That caught you off guard. Your grip on your arms loosened just slightly.

For the first time since he walked in, Robert met your eyes. There was something that wasn’t just cruelty or smugness or a need to twist the knife.

Regret.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You really buying flowers for an apology?”

He shrugged. “Actually, I hoped the intention would’ve been enough. Don’t got a single coin in me pocket.”

The bell above the door jingled again, with Rose’s cheerful voice breaking the tension. Seemed like she finally remembered her purse.

“Hello hello,” she greeted.

Suddenly, you had an idea. Something petty, and wicked. You pointed an accusatory finger up to Robert’s confused face, and, with all the annoyingness of a child denouncing another… “He was trying to steal flowers!”

No matter what happened next, the expression on the idiot’s face was worth it. “What? No, I wasn’t—I didn’t-”

Rose’s face fell in exaggerated disappointment, and you had to bite back a laugh. In a follow-up of events you couldn’t keep up with as all your focus was on not cackling, Robert found himself forced to leave his precious cowboy hat on the counter, and to hang all the tinsels, fairy-lights and garlands where you got too tired to do it yourself. You didn’t exactly mean for Robert to linger any longer, but you had to admit it was delicious to see him obey an old lady with his tail between his legs. Rose could be scary.

For so long, you’d imagined him at this towering threat, something sharp and cruel, something you couldn’t face. But now, watching him sulk under Rose’s orders, scowling at tangled Christmas lights, he wasn’t some nightmare anymore. Just another lost man. A mean one, yes, but maybe not as bad as the only parts you got to see.

When she was done retrieving her bag and gone for good, Robert shook his head. “That was low. And petty.” He grabbed his hat from the counter in a swift movement, tipping it back on his head.

The irony wasn’t lost on you considering the things he did. He deserved it, you thought. And there was something profoundly healing about seeing the man that scared you so much, to the point you’d almost wake up in cold sweat if he visited your dreams, pouting like a child.

From Hobie’s point of view though, as he approached the shop, the scene wasn’t one of reconciliation. All he saw from behind the windows was your glossy eyes and trembling lips—which he couldn’t imagine were from your laughter—and Robert’s fussing.

He stepped inside quickly, almost slamming the door. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”

You saw it all unfold in a split second, the way Hobie strolled dangerously, jaw clenched, fingers curling tightly around the paper bag in his hand like he was resisting the urge to throw it at Robert’s head.

“You’re tellin’ me I saved your sorry arse just for you to come bother us again?”

Before Robert could open his mouth, you stepped between them.

“It’s okay—Everything is fine.” You said, and the humor lingering in your tone confused Hobie more. His eyes switched from you to Robert, holding his hands up as to show how innocent he was in all this.

You put a hand on his chest, grounding. “He came to apologize.”

Robert scoffed. “Didn’t say I was good at it though.”

Hobie shot him a look so sharp it could’ve cut through steel. “Lucky for you, I don’t give a shit.”

Robert exhaled, shaking his head. “Right. ‘Course. This was dumb.” He turned back toward the door, hands back in his pockets. “Forget it.”

You hesitated. You shouldn’t feel bad for him. But you did.

“Robert.”

He paused, glancing back at you.

You swallowed. “For what it’s worth, I forgive you.” You mumbled tentatively, eyeing Hobie in fear of his disapproval. You couldn’t forgive in his name, it wasn’t your place, and he clearly didn’t seem ready to. But unless something else you were unaware of got out, you didn’t hold a grudge against the man.

His mouth twitched, almost a smile, almost something genuine, but he didn’t say anything. Just nodded once before stepping out into the street, the bell jingling behind him.

The second he was gone, Hobie exhaled hard through his nose, muttering something under his breath before turning to you, scanning your face, your stance, looking for any sign that Robert had rattled you.

“He didn’t do anything.” You reassured him.

Hobie grumbled, still clearly pissed. “Shouldn’t have to deal with his shit at all.”

You sighed. “Maybe. But… I think he needed to say it. And… It felt good. To hear it.” You paused, looking in the distance for a short moment. “Plus, wait till I tell you all that happened—” You smiled, already chuckling at the mere thought of recounting Robert sheepishly following Rose’s orders.

Hobie studied you for a long moment before his shoulders finally eased, the tension draining just slightly. He sighed, handing you the paper bag. “Got you something sweet. Figured you earned it.”

You smiled, taking it, letting the sweet smell of baked goods warm your soul. “Thank you.”

“I’m stealin’ half of it though, I earned it too for dealing with this.”

You chuckled. “Fine. I’ll get some tea.” And just like that, you disappeared in the back.

Part of you was a little disappointed everything couldn’t just be alright with Robert. Maybe you had hoped for a moment that they would be fast friends again, but considering their history—or rather what little you knew of it–it was a bit unrealistic.

You watched the bubbles in the kettle, the bruises healing on your hands. For a minute, you let yourself sit with it. The simple fact that you had stood your ground. Twice. The fear hadn’t vanished, not completely, but you hadn’t let it win. And that was something new.

What you found funny a minute ago left a strange taste in your mouth. Not bitter, not sweet. Just like the tea currently infusing, you’ll need to sit for a little while longer with the feeling before finding the true flavor.

For now, it was a strange mix of new-found confidence and uneasiness at something you weren’t used to yet.

Hobie eventually followed you there. You felt his warmth against your back as his hands found your arms, and his nose the back of your head. “I closed the store.” He murmured mischievously.

“But it’s still early?” You turned to look at him, confused.

“I wanna enjoy my tea time in peace.” He argued, pulling a chair for you, just wanting to chat and relax.

You smiled and sat down with him, your hand searching for his, kissing the palm.

“So, should I tell you everything now or?...”

“Depends. Did you punch ‘im again?”

“Better.” You bit your lips and he raised an eyebrow.

“Now, I have to know. Spill.”

And so you recalled the events to him. From uncomfortable apologies, to false accusations of flower theft to him doing your work as reparation.

“Flower theft? Seriously?” He scoffed. “Don’t go givin’ him credit for my work—” he joked in disbelief of you randomly snitching on the man. For something he didn’t even do. “I’m glad it was you I had to deal with instead of Rose.” He laughed at the old woman’s way of dealing with thiefs.

In turn, Hobie told you about the protest a little more, how he almost left Robert to deal with the cops on his own but couldn’t really bring himself to.

You were supposed to open the shop again after your tea break, but neither of you moved.

The warmth of the back room wrapped around you both, the scent of cedar and old leather curling in the air, mingling with the soft hum of the kettle. Hobie stretched his legs out, his hand still loosely tangled with yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in absentminded circles. The world outside kept turning, but none of it mattered right now.

No fear, no running, no fighting… Just this. Just him.

———

That night, his body felt warmer, his hold tighter, his voice softer.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there, tangled up in each other, listening to the faint hum of the city outside. The occasional siren in the distance. The quiet creak of the radiator. The steady, rhythmic sound of his breath.

Hobie was never still, not really. Even now, his fingers traced absentminded patterns against your back, like there were some invisible guitar strings along your spine. It made you shiver.

You weren’t even sure who spoke first. But at some point, in the warmth of the covers, in the soft glow of streetlights spilling through the window, it just happened, inevitable, like a thought waiting too long to be said.

“You know what you are?” His voice was hushed, low, like a secret meant just for you.

You hummed against his collarbone, pressing your face into the curve of his neck. “Do tell.”

“A flower bloomin’ in the cracks.” His fingers ghosted over your shoulder, resting there. “Right in the middle of all this concrete and shit, still standin’. Still thrivin’.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers brushing the line of his jaw. “You wanna know what you are?”

He smirked, teasing. “A proper pain in the arse?”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “A dandelion.”

His brows lifted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Now that’s just rude.”

You bit your lip, hesitating, then admitted, “I used to be scared of you. Scared you’d just… scatter in the wind. Be gone before I could catch you.” Your voice was quieter now, barely there. “But you’re still here.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something softer. “‘Course I am.” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb gently running along your cheekbone, right under your eyes.

You swallowed, your fingers curling into his shirt;

“I love you.” Your voice barely made it past your lips. It felt strange, like stating something obvious, something that should’ve been said earlier.

Hobie stilled. Just for a second. No teasing remarks, no witty deflection. Just that look. Like he had been waiting to hear it, but hadn’t dared to hope for it.

His forehead pressed against yours, his grip tightened, and his voice was steady when he finally spoke.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I love you too.”

It was simple, certain. Nothing grand or dramatic, just the truth. He kissed you then, slow and lingering. Like he hadn’t a hundred times before. Like he had all the time in the world. And you were sure he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Tags: @hoe-bie @kittenjujusblog

hey haha so um yeah this is over I guess and I'm completely normal about it *sobs uncontrollably* no sorry it's fine it's just i never did that before (finishing something)

I'll do some tidy up eventually, a navigation system will probably make it easier,,, also just some tumblr formatting to make things neat

#THE END #hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #x reader #spiderpunk #handpicked

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secretlysimpash · 3 days ago

Text

Pt. 1

Pt. 2

It's been a few months since your initial mating, you’ve got three mates and some pups on the way…And Price is left alone with you on the base while the boys are off on some classified business.

!!!! MDNI !!!

warning(s): reader is female, typical A/B/O shit (alphas, omegas, betas, mates, marks, scents, pups), pregnancy, lactation, fluff (kinda?? i think this constitutes as fluff)

“I’m sorry, did you say triplets, John?”

Laswell’s incredulous voice came from the other end of the call, and the equally surprised Captain held the phone from his ear for a moment. Inhaling deeply, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You heard right, Laswell…” He confirmed, his voice perfectly calm, even if he was still reeling himself. “The medic found three during the ultrasound. Can’t tell if they’re all Simon’s either.” Not that it’d matter. He added mentally, knowing full well that you and the three men were mated now. Even if it’s Simon’s mark on your neck, Johnny and Kyle are also your alphas in every sense of the word. Heteropaternal superfecundation isn’t common, but not unheard of for omegas in heat, and especially for omegas whose bodies accept more than one mate…Like yours did.

“Fuck me…So her temporary replacement might be more permanent than I expected.” Laswell said, a begrudging note of resignation laced into her words regarding the flippant alpha filling in for you. A beat of silence stretched between them before she exhaled. “Okay…Keep in touch, I’ll swing by when I’m finished with this paperwork. God knows how long this’ll take.”

John straightened up, humming out softly in response. “Right…Take your time, don’t go completely mad, Kate.” And then the call ends. It went over better than expected, all things considered. She didn’t tear him a new one the same way she did when he informed her that you’d be staying for an extra week after the initial incident roughly four months ago.

Bringing a hand down his face, John abandons his phone and makes his way to the window in his office. A lot has happened in four months, and he’s still wrapping his head around it. He watched his lieutenant and two sergeants stake their claim on you, taking you on many dates and outings, and just being wonderful alphas…If not a bit overprotective of you. John watched you splitting your nights up between the three alphas, never once asking for your own room (he tried giving you your own room, only to find your three alphas piled into the small bed meant for one, crowding you that morning).

Speaking of the other alphas…All three had to head out of the base early this morning to share notes with Farah Karim and Alex Keller in a classified location, and they aren’t expected to be back until tomorrow evening. They didn’t want to leave their sweet omega alone, nor did they want to wake her up to say goodbye since you seemed so peaceful. So, instead, John listened from outside of Soap’s quarters as they shared hushed farewells with you.

“We’ll be back before ye ken…”

“Captain’ll be here if you need anything, birdie.”

“Stay outta trouble…And don’t give your mum a hard time.”

That last bit from Gaz was aimed at the pups growing inside of you, and was no doubt followed up with a kiss to the growing bump. It warmed his heart a bit, truly…Seeing the three men he works so close with, ones he’s been through hell with, being so content. He watches the budding leaves sway on the tree near his window, exhaling through his nose when he hears something shuffling past his office. Turning his head, he can see the shadow of someone passing by under the door.

Must be her. He thought as he crossed over to the door. Once it was open, he’s greeted by the sight of you toddling into the kitchen. You’re practically swimming in one of Soap’s shirts, wearing an old pair of pajama pants courtesy of Gaz, and he can pick up on Ghost’s leathery scent underneath the other two.

“Morning.” John grunts out, making his way into the kitchen after you. When you turn to look at him in front of the fridge, he can’t help but smile. You’re literally barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, practically glowing despite your slightly frazzled appearance.

“It’s…” You begin, squinting at the time on the clock. “More like afternoon…But hi. My appetite finally caught up with me.”

John hums in response as he fills up the coffee maker before hitting brew. He recalls how you weren’t feeling very hungry in the past few days, having an upset stomach that would only tolerate liquids and the occasional strange pregnancy craving (the sight of you eating pickles with chocolate ice cream will haunt John’s dreams). “Want me to make you something?”

“I can cook…” You respond, shifting through the cabinets. “The boys are amazing, but they haven’t let me cook my own meal since…God, since before they knew I was pregnant, actually.”

“They’re just eager to show you that they can provide.” John explains, taking out a mug for himself and one for you. “It's a thing with us alphas. The macho and dominant part is there, but we want our omegas to know they can count on us to provide for them and our pups. An alpha being soft for their mate and brood is important.”

As you listen along, you pull out some pancake mix, intent on making a nice stack for yourself. You try to ignore the odd feeling in your chest…In your breasts, more specifically. It’s just another side effect of being pregnant with pups, three at that. They seem more tender, sore even. Your mind is set on making and devouring as many pancakes as possible, sore tits be damned.

John is in the middle of pouring himself some coffee, fixing it the way he likes, but stopping mid-pour of the miniscule bit of milk he usually adds. There’s something about your scent, something different. The usual sweet scent was already faintly noticeable under the three scents of your alphas. But now, it’s growing stronger somehow. Vanilla fills his senses, and his eyes turn to you. It’s almost intoxicating, and he really shouldn’t be eyeing you as you mix together the contents of the pancake batter. But here he is…Staring…And staring…Until he sees it.

“...Did the medic say anything you need to look out for?” He asks suddenly, eyes settled on your chest area. “Changes, or…”

You think for a bit, your caffeine-free brain taking some time to catch up as you squint at nothing. “Uh…Weight gain, cravings, tender breasts, tender…Gums, I think, and…” Finally, you felt his gaze practically burning a hole through your–rather Soap’s–shirt. Your face warms when you see where he’s looking, and your own eyes drop. “Oh…! Oh…Shit. That’s…” You bring a hand up to the damp material, milk staining the area over your nipple.

John scrubs a hand down his beard, covering his mouth to conceal an amused chuckle. “Was lactation something to expect this soon?” The way your mouth opens and closes wordlessly as realization takes over your eyes, has his answer. “Did you want me to finish with the pancakes…? You could go take care of your…Situation. I won’t interfere.”

You give him a grateful look, setting the whisk down in the batter. “Yeah…I’d like that.” You say before scurrying off to the bathroom. Before you’re too far, you throw over your shoulder, “Add blueberries and chocolate chips…Please!”

At least you didn’t ask for pickles on the side.

…

John made a nice stack of five pancakes for you, not putting the syrup on just yet. He waited for a bit after they were finished, and waited some more. When you didn’t show twenty minutes after, your stack and coffee starting to cool, he got curious. They took a few minutes to cook, so it's been…Nearly an hour since you left to deal with the leakage. So, he followed your scent down the hall and right to the bathroom. Your scent is still there, but faint, and leading to Simon’s room. Inside, he finds you sitting on the bed. You’re sitting cross legged in the middle, a barely audible whine leaving you as you press a damp cloth to your tender breasts.

“Hey…Feeling alright?” John asks, leaning in the doorway as he sets a concerned look on you. His inner alpha is demanding that he go in there and gather you up into his arms. But he holds off…He is nothing if not a very disciplined man.

“The cold compress works but…I…” You avoid his gaze, feeling heated under it. “Didn’t want to just walk out without a shirt on.”

When John hears your stomach growl, followed up by a frustrated sound caught between a whine and a groan, he makes the conclusion. “And you’re hungrier now than before…You know it's nothing I haven’t seen before.”

It’s true, John has walked in on you with one or more of your alphas more than once in some compromising positions. But still, you have some shame.

John thinks for a moment, exhaling through his nose as he observes your current state. Shirtless, with your hands clutching at your chest with a damp cloth. He mutters out a “stay here” before leaving the doorway. When he returns, he has a plate of pancakes in one hand, and a cold pack in the other.

“Set the washcloth down. This’ll stay cold longer…” He says, offering the pack to you. When you remove the washcloth, he’s met with the sight of your breasts. A bit of near transparent liquid is beaded at one of the peaks, and part of him wants to use his mouth to assist you…But the louder, more disciplined part of his brain is in control. He lets you place the pack over your sore chest, and then he spears the pancakes which he already cut up onto the fork. Once he brings the forked pancakes up to your lips, his free hand hovering under to make sure no syrup drips onto the bed, you realize what he’s doing.

Silently, you take the fork into your mouth, giving him a grateful look. For the next few minutes, he just repeats the process of gathering the cut up pancakes onto the fork and feeding you. As he does, he talks to lessen the tension or any awkwardness of this alpha who’s not mated to you taking care of you. He doesn’t talk about anything in particular, nothing serious. Just about the weather, the news, how happy “his boys” have been since you stumbled into their lives. Your inner omega is calm, at peace, much less worried and uncomfortable than before.

The blueberry-and-chocolate-chip pancakes are just about finished, the last bit stabbed onto the fork and being lifted to your mouth when the door to Simon’s room opens. You didn’t hear anyone coming into the base/pack house, not over John’s soothing, honeyed voice. And no discernable scent is present…It isn’t until you see a familiar blonde head peek in, blue eyes settling on the pair of you, that you see who it is.

“Laswell!” You chirp out, eyes lighting. It’s been a week or so since she last visited. “Laswell, guess what, I’m having–”

“Triplets.” She finished for you, eyes finally settling on John. The beta wasn’t sure where to look at first. Your topless self, the blue cold pack covering your chest, the syrup drenched pancakes…

John, who’s letting you finally take the last bit of your breakfast into your mouth, gives her a sheepish smile. “I feel like you’ve walked in on your assistant enough in the past few months…”

“Not the worst thing I’ve seen from the past few months either.” She deadpans, leaning in the doorway. Despite her tone, her eyes hold a fondness at the sight before her.

So now you have four…Four alphas who are more than willing to look after you and the three pups on the way.

#price x reader #john price x reader #omegaverse cod au #alpha 141 x omega reader #cod omegaverse #poly 141 x reader #honestly this could be seen as platonic or as John inching his way into the relationship to really make this poly 141 idk idk idk #but its done and I think this'll be the last part for now

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jjkarmy091 · 2 days ago

Text

Second Best- Jungkook (part 10)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Warning: strong language

Wordcount: 8.5k

Author's note: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Give me your thoughts. I love you all !

P.S : I'm sorry for any mistakes. English is not my first language!

Y/n wasn't always insecure about herself. Early in life she was a lively, extroverted and free spirit person, but life is unfair and unpredictable. Having the trauma of seeing her father abandon her and her mother for another woman, saying she was the reason why he stopped loving and caring for her mom, left something inside her that it was never possible to mend no matter how hard she tried, making her more focused on studies and goals than boys and dating while growing up. For her, love was an illusion and she wouldn’t make the same mistake as her mother.

Thinking about it now as she heads inside the apartment she shares with Lisa, she never gave anyone an opportunity, but as soon as she saw Jungkook she was drawn to him immediately without any explanation for it. Independence was her thing and she never thought she’d be capable of feeling the way she feels about him right now. Even if that meant that her friendship with Sewoon had to end.

Looking back she knows Sewoon was never a good friend to her and she deserves better. Despite knowing their personalities were completely different from each other, Y/n accepted her anyway. After all, Sewoon had been her first friend, the first person to defend her when necessary and for that she was truly thankful for her. She also knew a little about her past and even though their priorities were different, they understood each other like that.

Sewoon wanted to live life, have fun, go out, drink. Everything a teenager is supposed to do. She lost her virginity at 16 to a boy three years older than her who she met at a party. At the time Y/n asked her how was she able to do something so intimate with someone she had only known for a short time. Her best friend replied no one cared about that anymore. Truth to be told, after that she changed. A lot. Maybe that was when they started to drift apart a little bit. Y/n didn't like this change, not when she tried to do the same to her. Sewoon would share her experience regarding sex, how she did it, what she did and how good it felt. She was sexually active and made sure everyone knew about it, bothering Y/n. It was a subject that she didn't feel confident or comfortable talking about, however Sewoon pressured her to go the same path as her and that pissed Y/n off, but she would let it slide.

Maybe that was the main problem, letting it slide too muc. She never thought they would get to the point they are at today and that's sad. Now, Y/n was envious of all the experience she had acquired over the years, because with Jungkook it worked. He was so enthralled by Sewoon's beauty and comfort around guys, not to mention the way she won over boys, the subtle way of touching and talking to them when she tried to conquer them. Honestly, she admired the way she could make people who weren't interested in her focueds on her so quickly. Y/n knew she would never reach her feet in that way.

Everything that happened today with Jungkook was just one more thing to confuse her. What if she was imagining things? As far as she knows he could flirt like this with everyone else. What if he thought she was easy just because she had feelings for him and he was in need of more than she could give him? She has known him long enough to know he wasn’t part like this but still... One never really knows someone, right? Sewoon is living proof of this.

Walking in her room, Y/n went to change clothes and do her skin care, she had cried so much during the day that her eyes were swollen. She washed her face with cold water and dried it and putting a facial mask on. It was a very cold night but the moonlight helped to alleviate the darkness outside and she took advantage of being alone to go to the living room with her favourite book in hand, sitting in a chair next to the fireplace. The Y/n from a few days ago would be unable to tell Jungkook how she felt, yet both yesterday and today she had already confessed twice and had even confronted Sewoon. She never thought she would be able to raise her voice the way she did.

She somehow feels that Jungkook came into her life to break down all these walls around her heart with his sweet gaze and magnetic smile. She fell in love with him, but didn't have the courage to admit it (to him or herself), which ended up in her best friend dating him and yet she continued to desire him. Damn, she was so happy to know they had broken up, so she could rekindle her friendship with him and although knowing this was not something a good friend would do, at that moment Y/n doesn’t regret staying close to Jungkook, otherwise the moment they shared today wouldn't have happened at all. For that she also has Lisa to thank. God, she was very upset with her, but she ended up opening a path she never thought she would have with him.

Suddenly, she heard the main door open, announcing Lisa's arrival. Lisa hadn't even noticed her since when she arrived it was all dark. When Lisa heard a voice calling her in the distance she screamed and now it was Y/n's turn to laugh. Lisa put her hands to her chest and threw her keys at her in protest.

“You really scared the shit out of me Y/n. What the fuck are you doing with every light turned off? Are you a vampire and I didn’t notice it?” Lisa throws herself on the couch “Huuuuufff finally home! I've never had a day as long as this one. Meetings after meetings, just boring shit. How was your day? Was it a nightmare or a cool one?” Y/n gave a half smile

"Initially it was shitty, but it ended pretty well" Lisa raised her head and made a suspicious face.

“That means something did happen. Oh my god, is it Jungkook related?”

“Yes and no” Lisa was confused. “Last night before going to sleep I sent a text to Sewoon, trying to talk to her about the things I found out on that trip regarding Tae, but she didn't give me an answer so I didn't think much about it anymore. Today, it was almost time for my break when I saw her come in. I told Sana that I was going outside and would be right back, but the conversation didn't go as I expected. She was horrible Lisa, she said tons of shit that affected me a lot. I never met this person before. I saw a person I didn't know existed.”

“What did she tell you?” Lisa whispered and Y/n lowered her head, sighing.

“She basically said that she was happy I had disappeared without telling anyone, that the only bad thing was that Jungkook was constantly wanting to know my whereabouts and not even with the pictures she showed him did he calm down. Ohh and that she prayed for news to arrive that something bad had happened to me. She also mentioned that I had stolen Tae from her and that she’d do everything to be with Jungkook, especially since they had already been together a few times, so she had no doubt that he would choose her over me. A bunch of shit.”

“SHE SAID WHAT? God that girl needs a punch to bring her back to reality I swear the next time I see her I’m gonna end her. Who does she think she is f--” Y/n interrupted her

“It’s okay Lisa. Actually, I need to thank her. After that, I was so upset that Sana told me to leave, I needed to clear my head and you were working so I decided to take a walk. Somehow, I ended up in front of Jungkook's workplace, he ended up seeing me and went after me and insisted on bringing me home, however, I told him I had to make a stop by La Dolce Perla and we ended up having dinner there. Although things were VERY tense at the beginning, by the end of the night I ended up letting some things out and he didn't judge me or anything, quite the opposite, he kept me calm and respected me. There was something in the air you know? Something that was pulling us closer to each other. We almost kissed” Lisa squealed in excitement but then stopped and made a funny face.

“So why didn't you?”

“I - I don’t know... I guess he noticed how nervous I was. We were saying goodbye and then he told me he’d wait for me. I don’t know what kind of waiting was he referring to but somehow that gave me comfort, but I’m not sure it’s a good thing, I mean it gives me hope for a future for us but with Sewoon in the picture I--”

“Why don’t you talk to him about Sewoon? A real and open conversation where both of you get all the answers to your questions. You guys have a lot of connection, don’t miss that over misunderstandings.” Lisa said while hugging Y/n, excusing herself to get ready for bed. She had a very busy day in her company and she was wrecked. Y/n was tired too, so she went to her bedroom, did her routine and fell asleep, or at least she tried to.

On the next day Sana wouldn’t be there so she’d be with the new guy. She never got to make a full shift with him and she was curious to see how it’d go. By the time her alarm went off Y/n was wide awake and ready to star her day. She had the weirdest yet the best dream ever. It was about Jungkook and she was enjoying it so much that when she woke up she cursed her neighbor for making so much noise at 08:15 a.m.

She was going to make a double shift. She hated when her boss asked her favors like these but she really needed the money, that’s what kept her going. Getting there she saw Namjoon cleaning tables. Sana wouldn’t stop gushing over him, how cute he looked or how mature he was for someone his age. Even though Sana didn't have the courage to admit her feelings for him (yet, according to her) there was a palpable chemistry between them. The few moments that Y/n witnessed, made her think about her example, how much she thought she and Jungkook understood each other until Sewoon appeared. The day was passing by very peacefully. Right now there were only two customers so she and Namjoon took the opportunity to get some things done earlier. While at it, they got to know each other better and when they finished what they were doing, they ended up engaging in a deep conversation.

Okay, she had to agree with Sana, he had a great view on life and knew a lot for a 20-year-old. They were so absorbed in their conversation they didn't even notice the arrival of a new customer. Hearing the chirping of a throat in order to draw the attention of the two of them, Y/n was surprised to see Jungkook there with a look she couldn’t describe. Namjoon must have felt the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on him because he used some lame excuse to get out of there as soon as possible, leaving her alone with him.

“Jungkook, hi! I – I wasn't expecting to see you here at this time of the day. Usually you come a little later... Is everything okay?” Jungkook took a whole minute to respond, glancing between her and the door Namjoon had «escaped»

“Yes, everything’s fine. I hmmm- I was around and I-- I know it's almost your lunch time so I passed by to see if you wanted to have lunch with me.” He looks at Namjoon when he sees him walking out with some boxes. “But if you’re busy yo-”

“Imnotbusyatall” she answered so quickly Jungkook didn’t understand a thing so she had to repeat herself, calmer this time. “Sorry. I meant to say I’m not busy. I have two hours for lunch since I'm working double shifts today. I just wasn’t expecting to see you so... early. I mean, for someone who usually shows up around 9pm, it's quite surprising” She smiled, turning her attention to the door, only to see Namjoon walk in again looking at her and Jungkook. He gave her a thumbs up, she flipped him off surreptitiously. Jungkook, on the other hand, was paying attention to all these actions. He's never seen this guy before, maybe he didn’t pay much attention to him. They seemed to have hit off pretty nice and for some reason he didn't like that at all.

“I finished the morning session earlier than expected so I Ieft early as well. It's 10 minutes to 1 pm, can I stay here waiting for you or do you think you’ll have problems with that guy?”

“With Namjoon? Naah, he’s cool. I'll just tell him to come replace me so I can change clothes and we can go. I’ll be right back.” As said, Y/n went to warn Namjoon and went towards the locker room. She left after 5 minutes, seeing Jungkook waiting for her near the exit. Weird, he usually used to wait for her at the counter where she and Sana usually stay, where Namjoon currently is as well.

“Why are you waiting here? It’s not your normal spot you know? Joon won’t bite you for standing there” Y/n said laughing while approaching Jungkook. Seeing her, he adjusted his coat and smiled, opened the door motioning for her to go through it first, leaving behind her.

“I didn't like him, that's all, so I preferred to wait here. Besides, I didn't want to cause trouble. "

"Why would you cause trouble? It's not like this is the first time you've come in here or waited for me to leave. And what do you mean you didn't like him? Do you know each other by any chance? Where's the Jungkook who says we shouldn't judge a book by it's cover?” Y/n was teasing him and he knew it, answering with a little shut up. About five minutes away down the road there was a small burger place. It wasn't the first time they went there to eat, she loved the burgers there and the space was heaven. When they sat down, the waiter took their order and went to get their drinks, returning two minutes later. They both said thank you, giving some sips on their coca cola’s. Jungkook broke off the silence first.

“So..you and the new guy seemed pretty close. Cool guy hm?”

“His name is Namjoon and yes we got along quite well. You wanna know a fun fact? it was our first day working together officially. He started when I was on vacation and he’s been doing more day shifts with Sana. But yeah, he’s pretty nice. I was surprised, he’s younger than us but he’s pretty mature for his age and he made me laugh a lot today. It made my double shift a lot easier.”

“Ohhh”. Jungkook gave a few sips on his drink. “Glad it only took him a few minutes for you to be able to feel comfortable with him. It took me ages for you to look at my face. No one would tell it was your first time working together. You must have really liked him” Was he jealous?

“There’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re trying to know.” Jungkook chocked on his drink and tried to look everywhere but her. “We made a great team today but that’s it. He’s not my type. Besides, Sana has a crush on him. I’d never do that to a friend of mine”. Jungkook understood the hint. When he was about so speak, the waiter came with their orders. He waited for him to leave again so he could say what he wanted.

“I’m sorry” Y/n frowned.

“Sorry? What for?”

"It was bad of me to come between you and Sewoon. It's a long story and I have to tell you all about it, but at the same time I want to respect your space and time. I should have talked to you as soon as I realized something was going on, but I was confused and--” Y/n interrupted him.

“Were you happy? While you were with Sewoon I mean. Did she make you feel happy?” For the first time Jungkook didn't know what to answer because he genuinely didn't know. Looking back, he knows he was never in love with her, it was just a momentary thing. He realized this too late and now he’s paying for it. Y/n noticed his discomfort so she changed the subject. “This place is without a doubt the one with the best burgers. This is my second favorite place, I really enjoy coming here and this is sooooo good or maybe it's just me being so hungry.” She said, laughing at her own words. Jungkook laughed too. One of the things he never felt with Sewoon: lightness and tranquility. With her, everything was always a competition and based on image. Very controlled, very fake, very rehearsed.

During their meal, they talked about basic things related to life, work and dreams, ordered dessert and drank coffee. Jungkook paid their meals and even though Y/n refused he didn't listen, telling her to pay next time. When they got outside, Jungkook took out a cigarette and stayed like that, grabbing it. Y/n looked at him with a questioning face.

"How come I didn’t know you smoked? I mean every time we went out I never noticed. I was so surprised to see you smoking the other day”

"And you said you hadn't noticed me." He said laughing. "I don't smoke much, usually after coffee or when I'm nervous/anxious. I've always tried not to smoke around you because I know you don't like the smell, so I avoid it."

"Is that why you haven't lit your cigarette yet?" Jungkook looked at the hand that had the cigarette between his fingers. "Maybe" he said wrinkling his nose, looking at her with those sweet bambi eyes. God help her because she can't stay away from this man much longer. During their way back to her work she expected him to light the cigarette, but at no point did he do so. She even told him that if he needed to smoke to do it, that she didn't have to be an obstacle simply because she didn't like it, to which he replied that there were priorities and at that moment smoking wasn't one of them. She didn't say anything back but Jungkook noticed the blush on her cheeks and the shy smile on her face.

“I wasn’t happy” Y/n looked at him wondering what he meant by that. He keeps talking. “You asked me if I was happy with Sewoon and my answer is no. Everything was a facade between us and now I can see how dumb I was to call it love. There were no feelings between us, only physical attraction and illusions. I know I messed up bad by getting together with her Y/n and I wish I could take it back. Even though I didn’t know your feelings for me but it was wrong and you have no idea how bad I feel for hurting you, even without meaning to. I’m truly deeply sorry.” Y/n felt so bad for him. It was a mix of emotions and she just wanted to comfort him so she stopped walking, grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, hugging him tight, whispering

"You're not to blame for anything. If anything I'm to blame because I was the one who didn't speak up." He moved away a little, although they were very close. "We don't control our feelings. It's not your fault that I fell in love with you just as it's not your fault that you felt something for Sewoon, just as I don't blame her for having something with you even though she knew about my feel--” She stopped talking when she saw his shocked face. His face changed drastically when she said Sewoon knew about her feelings, he was angry and you could see it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sewoon knew? She knew and you still insisted on pushing her to me?!” He was mad.

“What was I supposed to do? You’re my best friend and I was afraid of ruining it with you, then you wanted to meet her and I just couldn’t say no. I knew you two were perfect for each other. I- I didn’t want to be selfish- I -”

“FOR ONCE Y/n. Just for once you should’ve been selfish! Do you have any idea of how hard this has been for me? just to know that you were the one who gave me to her just like that? Was I not enough for you, was that it?”

“Jungkook, no... Wh- What are you saying? I was the one that wasn’t enough for YOU. That’s why I introduced you to her.” At this point Jungkook had already moved away quite a bit, running his hands through his hair.

“You were more than enough Y/n. You just didn't bother to face what was in front of you. Why do you want everything to be given to you? Is it really that hard for you to take control of your life for once? You would’ve avoided so many things Y/n. But you know what? I'm glad it was this way, maybe you and I weren't meant to be after all and we’re just realizing this now.” He sighed. “C’mon, I need to go and you have to go work as well.

The last minutes felt like hours. Y/n hadn't realized how things had gotten to that point, it wasn't possible to understand. She thought it was unfair that he was blaming her for not opening up, even though he was upset, but even so. When they arrived Y/n grabbed his arm once more.

“Jungkook, you can’t leave like this. You can’t drive being all raged up right now. Talk to me, please. I know I should’ve been more honest about things but I was scared and- and it’s not like you gave me any signs of any feelings either. I wanted you to be happy desp-” he released himself from her grip.

“I did gave you signs Y/n! I fucking did!That's why I'm so messed up. I - The only reason why I approached Sewoon in the first place was to have a reaction from you and to know things I knew I couldn't ask you directly.” It was Y/n’s turn to be shocked. What? “I know you avoid relationships and everything related to boys because you’re scared. If I told you how I felt or what I wanted I was scared you'd run away from me like you always do so I kept giving you signs Y/n but I had no reaction from you at all. I knew who Sewoon was from some pictures on your Instagram so when I challenged you to introduce me to her I was testing waters, however, your indifference remained there. It's not just my fault. I took you on dates and you would dismiss it, saying it was just two best friends hanging out. I left work every day and waited for you every day. In my free time I would come here to keep you company and be close to you while I sketch things that I could easily do at home. I have a cafe in front of my store and yet I’m- Always- Here- You can't be that oblivious Y/n. You were the one to put a label on us every goddamn time! You say you’re in love with me? No Y/n you’re not, otherwise you wouldn’t have given up so damn fast and give me to your best friend like a damn trophy the moment she asked. Hurts to know that I didn't deserve a second thought.” Y/n could only look at him. He looked so damn honest and he was so disappointed in her. There was hurt all over his face and that was killing her. She wanted to say something but she couldn’t so she did what she always does: let him go.

She shouldn't have let him go. The rest of the day was fulfilled with anxiety and guilt. Every day she discovered new things and every time she thought her and Jungkook were stepping forward, they took five steps back. She was ruining everything good she had ever dreamed of with her cowardice and lack of communication. She should've gone after him, yet pride got the best of her.

Like always.

After the argument he got in the car and left. At first she tried not to think about it too much, but then she felt the guilt consume her. When she was alone with just a few clients, she sent several texts to Jungkook, apologizing for the way things happened, for them to talk and clear things up once and for all.

No response.

Lisa was going to spend the night out, so once again she found herself alone in that giant apartment. Without thinking she called Jungkook, going straight to voicemail all the six times she tried. The only positive thing was that the next day it'd be her day off and she’d try to talk to Jungkook and clear things up.

Hopefully

The next day Y/n woke up with a huge weight beside her bed. When she opened her eyes she saw Lisa looking at her with a smile from ear to ear.

"Good morning, sunshine. I'm going to do something crazy and I want you to come with me. Hurry up, get even more pretty and let's go. If I’m late and loose my turn I'm going to kill you.”

That's what consisted being friends with Lisa: waiting for her to wake her up at 9:30 in the morning for something that had popped into her mind out of pure spontaneity was just an example of it. She was adventurous and left nothing undone or unsaid because, according to her, you only live once and she would rather regret what she didn't do than everything she tried and failed at.

That's how at 10 in the morning Y/n found herself in front of the tattoo shop where Jungkook works. The only thing she wanted to do was turn around and leave. Gosh, he's been ignoring her attempts to contact him, how could she just walk in there like nothing was happening? She remembers talking to Lisa about getting tattoos. She never had courage for it, besides, Sewoon would tell her all the time they wouldn't suit her, thus she gave up of the idea. Lisa encouraged her, saying that when she did hers Y/n would do it too, but now, her stomach was churning and it seemed like the only thing that was going to come out was vomit. When they arrived at the entrance Y/n stopped.

“I can’t go in with you. I’m sorry”

“What do you mean you can’t? You can’t leave me alone at it. Also, I booked you a session so you have to show up.” Lisa said innocently.

“You knew Jungkook works here, didn't you? You little bi--”

“Hey hey hey. There’s no time for that my friend. We're about to get hotter and have something marked on us. Let’s go.” She was fucked. Lisa linked her arm with her and they walked inside. It was a very peaceful place, with drawings on display, music playing and a diffuser. Of course. Jungkook was addicted to smells and very weird about them too.

The first person they saw was the red-haired lady Y/n had seen close to Jungkook the other day. Seen up close, she was even more stunning. Since Lisa was the one scheduling the session, the red-haired who introduced herself as Athena went to talk to Lisa to see what was she interested in. As she talked to her about the type of tattoo she wanted, presenting some sketches too for her to choose, Y/n looked around, praying she wouldn't see Jungkook while being there.

“What about you? What kind of design did you think of?” She asked Y/n, giving her a genuine smile. "First time? You don't have to stress about it honey, it's most likely for you not to feel a thing"

“Ohh I didn’t think of anything... You see I was totally caught up on this. I didn't know I was coming so I didn'--- "

“Her idea was to make a semicolon on her wrist. Something simple. Y/n, babe, we talked about this. You’re not gonna chicken out right?” Y/n looked at her friend and her answer shocked herself more than anyone else in the room. “Okay. Yes you’re right Lisa. I’m already here so why not?” Lisa opened her mouth, closing it up immediately, smiling. Change comes with little steps.

One step at a time

Athena showed Lisa some ideas until she finally chose what she liked the most. She was getting a sternum tattoo and the sketch Athena did was a piece of art, all those lines and details were just too perfect. She then excused herself to pick something up, disappearing for about 2 minutes, that's all it took for disaster to happen. While they were waiting for her to return they saw Jungkook walk through the door with two coffees. As he placed them on a small table in the entrance, Y/n realizes he didn't see them there, at least not until Athena returned to the room and spoke to him, causing him to look up where they were standing.

"Yooh Jkaay I'm glad you got here. Can you finish this design for me? I have these two pretty ladies here and the client will come by later to see if the drawing is ready but there are some parts I'm having trouble getting right, can you help me with this?” As soon as Jungkook looked up, he met Y/n's gaze, which was already focused on him. He had no reaction. “Hey lover boy. I know they’re pretty but I’m kinda waiting for an answer here”

“Hmmm.. Oh yeah- yes. You can leave it there I’ll be sure to give it a look.” his gaze was intense as it met yours but didn't say anything, as if he didn't know you. Athena thanked him and directed the two of them to a large room. While her friend took her shirt off and laid down on her back, Athena settled everything on the sterilized table. Y/n was inspecting the drawings on the wall, realizing Jungkook's signature on the end of all of them. After placing the artwork where Lisa wanted Athena grabbed the tattoo machine, filling the room with the sounds the needles working and Y/n got scared. She was sure that was gonna hurt. 10 minutes in there's a knock on the door. After Athena replied, Jungkook walked in the room with what Y/n thought was the drawing she asked him to check.

“This is fantastic Kook. If the idiot doesn't like it I'll have it myself. It's incredible." Jungkook smiled and looked at Y/n and then at Athena again. "This is going to be a lot of work Ath. It's full of details and has such a thin line. You have to be careful not to smudge as you clean it."

"I know, I hadn't realized that. It's going to be a challenge but it'll look cool on her body. I still have her friend to tattoo but that’s something small and quick.” Jungkook looked at her way.

“I can do it. I’m free and won’t have any client until noon.” Y/n froze in the moment. No fucking way.

"I can wait. It's okay, really." Jungkook looked at her, picked up some still-closed material and opened the door. "Come on, I'll take care of it." And for a second, Y/n didn't know how to breathe anymore

Jungkook was waiting for her to follow him. When he noticed she wasn't moving at all he called out for her name again. Unconsciously, Y/n ended up getting up and going after him but she didn't leave without looking at the place Athena and Lisa were, noticing the strange expression Athena made. Had Jungkook ever mentioned her?

He went ahead, taking her to a more private room which was on the first floor. It was quite far from all the other rooms and common area. When they arrived there, he motioned for her to sit in front of what she assumed was Jungkook's desk. There were photos of several people, she doesn’t remember meeting any of them until one got her attention: it was a picture of Jungkook and Sewoon together. He was wearing white and she was wearing a black dress. She remembers this day very well- It was in the beginning of their relationship and Sewoon was having a party with her agency and Jungkook was her date, they were both so pretty and cuddly and looked so into each other. Jungkook was treating her like a princess and it was the first time Y/n felt anger towards her best friend. She cried all night after getting home, spying Sewoon's instagram and all the love-dovey pics she was posting. What a night

He sat on the chair in front of Y/n, behind his desk to sketch what she wanted to tattoo when he noticed where her eyes were wandering at, grabbing the picture and putting it in a drawer. She didn’t say anything, looking everywhere but him.

“According to Athena you wanted just a simple semicolon on your wrist, right? So I did sketch want you wanted but added something more. If you don’t like it or want it you can say it and I'll do just what you initially wanted okay?” Jungkook showed her a design of a semicolon with a butterfly wing around it. It was honestly so beautiful. She remembers saying to him one time she identified herself as a butterfly, because no matter the situation she was going through she could always adapt herself and learn from it. Did he remember that?

“I- I love it Jungkook. This is so pretty and personal, I- Thank you, this is amazing. I’ll have it that way”

“Are you sure? It’s gonna be there forever”

“I’m 100% sure. Start this before I lose my courage” Jungkook gave her a nod, taking the paper and putting it on her skin with some wet liquid. He could tell she was nervous so he told her when he was about to start. “If you need me to stop let me know. We have time okay?” Y/n nodded

“You have amazing sketches here. Not that I didn't know but you're super talented, I feel grateful that it’s you doing this on me. When you become a world-renowned artist I'm gonna brag about it, I’m already warning you.” After their fight yesterday, Y/n was trying to ease the tension between them but he was making it hard. She missed Jungkook and wanted to clear things up with him. She was done with all the confusion and misunderstandings, however, Jungkook remained in silence. “Please Jungkook I’m trying. I miss you. I miss us. I don’t even understand what happened yesterday and I’m sorry for hurting you in any way. I’m tired of this! You're driving me crazy by leaving me in this void. I'm not like this Jk, you know it. I don't care about boys but just the thought of losing you is killing me. That's the effect you have on me!” He wasn’t paying attenton to her at all, or maybe he was just ignoring her on purpose, either ways she was getting more and more frustrated and did her best to keep her tears to herself since she couldn't get out of there. With her free hand, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes with her shirt sleeve. What she didn’t know was that Jungkook was paying attention to all her movements.

“I’m sorry. I talk a lot with my clients for them to relax a bit but with you... I feel like if I talk I'm not gonna be able to concentrate and I don’t want to mess this up. You make me nervous just with your presence. That's the effect you have on me Y/n. When it comes to you I can't separate things”

"I could’ve waited for Athena to do it. Actually I think it’d be better, given the situation we are at right now. Damn Jungkook I put my guard down for you and now you're treating me like this, what for? You criticize me for avoiding things, yet you're doing the exact same thing, it's not fair. You can't say whatever you want, make me feel bad and then do the same to me. I know I messed up somewhere. I know I should've been braver, but you are such a special and necessary part of my life that I was afraid of you not feeling the same way, could break everything we built so far, which is stupid right now because that's exactly what happened. There is no way we can go back to what we were before” By the time she ended her speech, Jungkook was already putting the final touches on the tattoo, being done with it. Both of them remained silenced until he had picked up the tattoo protection to place it around her skin.

“Let’s do it then. Let’s put everything on the table and be honest because honestly I can’t handle this anymore too. Where do you want me to start? From the day we first met? I had the shittiest day ever it was raining so much. That’s what made me stop at the coffee shop. Then you looked absolutely gorgeous standing there looking at me and when you noticed I was staring back and pretended to have lost an earring, that caught my attention, how innocent and naive you looked. Then I started to get to know you better and it was it for me. It was so hard not to fall for you. I kept taking you out to places but you always friendzoned me somehow, I would tell you about non existing dates to see your reaction but you always had the same posture, I came to terms that it was a one-sided thing. Then Sewoon happened. When you introduced us, honestly I was very straightforward with her. I asked her about you, if you liked someone if you ever talked about me, you know, something to give me hope. But the answers she gave me weren’t the ones I expected to hear and I was so disappointed.” Y/n's system was soon on alert.

“What- - What did she tell you?” Jungkook took a while to answer which was making her impatient. She was about to lose her mind.

“She told me you were seeing someone and it was getting serious. That she was sorry but wouldn’t get in the way. After that, we kept talking a little more and when I was about to leave she was the one asking me to go out with her. Just a simple date so I said yes, maybe that would help me take my mind of you. Then things happened and time skipped and we broke up and yeah I didn’t take that well because no one likes to feel they failed at something, but I’m so glad we did. We didn’t align in anything, we fought a lot behind doors. Then came the party you and Sewoon went. I was already there remember? You looked so sad and the first thing I remembered was the guy you were supposed to be seeing. I was hoping you were long gone with the dude but the way you were acting and how you were talking to me ended up confirming Sewoon’s words about you and that special someone and I--- I lost my mind.”

“So you ended up kissing Sewoon to relieve all that anger, right?” She got up and slowly turned her way towards the door when Jungkook grabbed her arm.

“That was a terrible mistake. As soon as I realized what I did I stepped back immediately. After that I looked everywhere for you, but I didn’t found you. When I did, you told me you were leaving with someone and that was it. I tried talking to you all night but your phone was either out of reach or you wouldn’t respond.” There's this awkward silence until one of them spok again.

“That night broke me Jungkook. You broke me. I was there, I was hurt and you noticed something was up but all your eyes were looking at was Sewoon. I wished so many times it was me you were kissing, holding, touching. I'd see you with her and all I imagined was us. That was so toxic of me, that's why I left, because I couldn't see you leave with her knowing the next day I'd know everything about it."

They didn't realize how close they were until they felt each other's breath hitting their faces. Y/n doesn't know when things changed, but since the night at the restaurant there is something that pushes them towards each other. She gets a strange feeling in her belly, in her chest… down there. It's strange, she never felt something like this for anyone and it was confusing her. She knows if he asked her something she'd do it on the spot. It seems like Jungkook could feel the tension either because the hand that was previously on her arm was now around her waist, while the other caressed the right side of her face tucking some hair behind her ear. It was then that she felt the distance between them getting shorter and shorter, when all of a sudden they heard someone knock on the door, opening it, revealing Athena's slightly confused figure.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, I heard voices and came to check if you were okay, as it's not usual for you to bring anyone here. I-- hmm- just wanted to let you know that I finished Lisa's piece and we're downstairs drinking some coffee and talking in case you'd want to join us when you finished whatever you were.... doing, but no pressure, make yourself comfortable, I didn't see anything. Use protection, okay? You still have a life to enjoy before any surprises." Jungkook made a desperate sound looking at Athena and throwing something at her

"Don't be an idiot, it's not what it looks like and you know it. Anyone hearing you talk would think you see me doing a lot of dirty things here. Work is work and I take it very seriously." Jungkook paused, glacing at Y/n, just to speak again. " We'll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes, I just need to finish explaining how she should handle this in the next few days." Athena hummed, giving them a nod before leaving. However, they heard her tell Lisa that - they were busy and would probably take longer to joy them- They knew she spoke loud for them to hear. Jungkook went to a drawer and took out a cream, handing it to Y/n.

"For the next three days you must avoid direct sunlight on the area. This protection should last for 24 hours, then you can remove it in the shower or by wetting the area with warm water, drying it well and applying the cream two or three times a day. If you feel any itching, that's normal, but if you see red spots around it let me know so I can check it out. But in principle, everything should be fine." Y/n nodded and thanked him, grabbing her wallet, heading towards the door but stopped halfway and turned around, facing Jungkook.

"Did you sleep with Sewoon here?"those words came out faster than Y/n could control. Why the hell did she ask that. Jungkook wasn't expecting that either, because his mouth opened and closed several times, not knowing what to answer, a little embarrassed. This gave Y/n a feeling that maybe the answer was yes. "Never mind, sorry, I don't know why I asked this. Forget it." She turned around again ready to open the door. She was about to do so when a hand above her head slammed the door shut again with a bang.

"Why do you always put me in difficult positions? It's past and - aiish- No Y/n, I didn't. This is my office, my space, my privacy, I don't bring anyone for anything more than work, not even Sewoon. This wasn't exactly the space she liked to frequent the most" Y/n nodded.

"I don't know why I asked, I'm sorry. Being here knowing that you and her were- you know- that would be just weird and gross. I mean, who knows what kind of "things" would be around here and-- Okay, nevermind. How about we go down? They're waiting for us and will start thinking stuff about us being here."

"So? Let them think what they want to think.. I'm not bothered at all. Are you?" When Y/n was about to answer, the door opened without warning revealing an excited Athena again, but she didn't realize that when she opened the door she had hit Y/n with it. "Shit Ath be careful. Knock before coming in. Jesus"

"Dude, I don't know what the situation is between you two, but behind the door is definitely not the best place. Been there, done that. It's interesting but not comfortable. Also, why are you so bothered by the knocking thing all of a sudden? That was never a rule. Just put something on the door handle to when you're busy doing other things. That's what I do with your broth-"

"Aiiiishh Athena. I'm not really interested in what you and my brother do or don't do, How disgusting. We were just talking! Stop being nosy and up on my ass. What's the matter with you today? why are you always coming here thought? You never care when I’m upstairs”

“Well you’re always by yourself, there’s nothing for me to pry on. Either way, I came here to tell you that the client you had for noon called to inform he’s no longer able to come. His wife went into labour, so you’re free for now”

“Well at least is for some good reasons. I’ll call him up later to reschedule.” Athena would steal glances from Jungkook to Y/n with a funny look, trying to see something she could pick up to tease them more “Anyway, I think I’ll grab lunch with Lisa. She’s pretty rad. Do you wanna come?” It was Y/n’s turn to speak

“I actually have some things to get done, but you go and have fun. Maybe we can grab a coffee later?” All she wanted was to run. After that stupid question she made she just wanted somewhere to hide.

“Of course, just give me your number. It’ll be easier” they both switched numbers and Athena gave a final goodbye to her, giving her a hug and winking to Jungkook, whispering behave before shutting the door completely. What the hell.

“So... The girls are leaving and you probably have things to do too so I should get going as well. I have to meet up with Joon, he asked me if I could stop by so hmmm, yeah. Thanks for your time. If - if I have any questions I’ll pass by. Thank you once again." This was her cue to leave. Uttering those words she was out of the door, running down the stairs getting closer and closer to the main door but when she reached it, it was locked.

Goddamn it!

She was thinking about calling Lisa to turn around and wait for her when she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't dare to look back but in question of minutes she felt Jungkook's chest against her back, hearing him whisper

"Why are you always in such a rush when it comes to me? What are you so afraid of?" Jungkook turned her around to face him. "Let yourself go Y/n. For me, for you, for us. We've been over the friendship thing for a while now, don't you think? No matter how much you try to deny it, the attraction is here" He was so close to her she could feel his heartbeat.

"I can't" She whispered. "Everytime I look at you I get myself reminded of how you used to be with Sewoon. There was her before me and I can't compare. I can't erase that image of my head. I- I want to forget, but I can't"

"I'll help you forget. Let me help you forget, but mainly let me show you how there's no comparison between you and her" They were so close and there was so much desire so she let herself go and feel all she wanted, grabbing Jungkook by the hem of his grey shirt and closing the distance between them. The response to the kiss was automatic. Y/n felt Jungkook kiss her back as if he had already been waiting for this moment. Slowly at first, like they were testing each other, until he slowly pushed her against the door, placing his hand behind her neck, deepening the kiss. She never had a kiss like that. At this point she felt the entire zoo inside her and she was aware of everything around her: of how Jungkook's hands were hovering over her body, how their mouths were thirsty for each other, the way their bodies were so close yet so far.

It was just them and their desire for each other. And at that moment that was all that mattered.

Bonus: The famous tattoos made

Lisa’s OC'S

You're welcome ;)

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811 @cryingoverpixelsetc @11thenightwemet11 @rinkud @ayatie97 @jk-190811 @shaku1995 @blueberriesm @darkangelfei

#jungkook #angst #bts #jungkook imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #fluff #imagines #kpop romance #kpopangst #tattoos

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gallifreyan85 · 3 days ago

Text

Before the day is done

pairing: Agatha x reader

summary: cast out of the only life you've ever known, you find yourself in the imposing presence of agatha harkness herself, set to get revenge on the witches you're with. she deals with them accordingly, but what to do with you?

A/n: had this in my WIPs for a while now, thought I'd try and make something out of it. This is sort of a part zero?? for this fic, but can be read as a standalone. enjoy!!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Your head ached. You had only yourself to blame for the situation you found yourself in, seeing as everyone else had already given up on you. Your village, your family, your acquaintances... everyone. And so, alone, naive, defenseless, you managed to stumble into the path of none other than one of the most feared witches in existence.

Agatha Harkness.

The Agatha Harkness.

You realized it soon enough, but it was already too late. It seemed the witches that had so kindly taken you in, showed you sympathy by letting you stay for a night, had also angered her. And she came to get her revenge. It was only a matter of time before she captured you too, bound you with magic and who knows what, and you couldn't- you didn't see a way out of this. You were already cold, exhausted, trembling before her in fear while she sighed. Tilted her head. To one side, then the other, like a predator looking at some helpless animal they had caught, debating the best way to--

„My, my." she murmured to herself, voice low yet intrigued. „It seems I've got myself a little extra this time. What do you think, darling? Should I go ahead and—" she waved a hand, making you flinch.

You followed her calm gaze to the bodies of the witches she'd fought. Well. It wasn't exactly much of a fight. One second they were all turning on her, blasting her with magic, and the next---

Purple.

Blinding.

All-consuming.

And she just laughed, held out her hands as if saying come and get me, go on, as if teasingly luring them to their demise. And that was indeed what happened.

They dropped like ragdolls after that, one by one, drained, powerless.

Dead.

Everyone but you. You had hid, of course, too afraid and surprised and taken off guard by being woken from the first sleep in two days by all the magical crossfire and spells in the air.

When you raised your head a little more the air felt heavy with power, the aftermath of wilting magic, cast and now split into nothing. You allowed yourself a shaky inhale. Agatha, still in front of you, just smirked.

She moved her hand about, enjoying the way you almost winced every time it shifted in your direction.

"Go on, dear." she said coolly, "Give me a good reason to keep you alive. Or else... well..." she smiled, giving the clearing you were in another glance. No words left your mouth. You wanted to speak, to plead, anything, really you did, but you were just... frozen.

You blinked.

She blinked.

Her hand paused in the air, movements ceasing momentarily.

You felt the back of your throat tighten, the threat of tears in your eyes as heavy as the weight holding your bound hands, magic pressing against you from all sides. You were trapped. Alone. There was no changing her mind, and you had no real, good enough reason for her to spare you. A tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another. She sighed.

"Oh, Hecate." you heard her scoffing. "Are you seriously crying?"

A sob escaped you, shaky and uncertain. Almost apologetic. She sighed again, looking annoyed, not that you saw it through your endless steam of tears.

"If you're going to sob at my feet at least try to have some-- hey!" you flinched when she lowered herself down to look at you, blinking at her tearfully.

"Are you listening to me?" she asked.

You nodded quickly.

"Do actually know anything useful? Like, at all?"

A shake of your head. And another sigh from her, frustrated this time.

"Hell's sake." she murmured. "You really are useless. Fine."

She stepped back, and you almost stepped forward.

You weren't even sure why.

You should have kept a distance, a safe distance, but nothing you did felt safe anymore, not for a long time until she--

The movement was a mistake. Because she paused. Stood up. Looked down at you. She was frowning now. It only made you cry harder.

"What was that?" she asked.

You gulped.

Words seemed to find you, your voice, returning.

"I- I'm sorry—" but she cut you off at once, looking affronted,

"No-- no. Don't you dare lie to me or so help me I'll look into your head for myself."

That made you freeze. You knew a little about her. Famous, ancient, scary witch. But could she really do that? You supposed she could. So instead of letting her make up her mind you simply blurted,

"I-- I don't-- know."

An eyebrow raised. She looked unimpressed.

"You don't know?"

You shook your head pathetically.

"You don't know why I caught and bound you here and instead of pleading for your little life you actually move closer towards me?"

"I-it's just-- I've been..."

"Yes?"

"I just- I've been... alone... for so long... and I didn't r-really feel safe, at all, but then when you..."

Oh, now she was listening. With a sort of bewildered expression on her very-much-not-349-years-old-looking face. And you just went on. You already lost your dignity. Might as well tell her everything now. What was the last time you were so honest with someone? You found it sad that you couldn't even remember.

"I just... thought... you... you took them down so quickly, like... like you weren't even trying, and I thought, whoever is on your side must feel really, really safe." you said.

It was an odd thing to say. But it was the truth. However terrifying she did seem, there was something about her that seemed to lure you in. Made you want to find out more.

She gave you a look.

Frowning. Processing. As if your words had made zero sense.

"This is so depressing." she muttered, stepping away, disappointed almost. "Honestly, I was about to threaten you and everything and you're already so close to falling apart I didn't even get to making you beg."

"I-- I can still—"

"Oh, can you?" she retorted sarcastically, tilting her head in an exaggerated move. You winced.

"Are you really so pathetic that—" she turned abruptly, then stopped, as if really, really begrudgingly deciding something.

You stayed quiet.

And then, just barely, slowly, so faintly, you felt her magic around your hands loosen a little. You sniffled. Looked up. She was still standing there, stock still, lost in thought. You hesitantly got up. Stumbled. Caught yourself.

She turned so abruptly again that you startled. Her eyes went over you. It seemed she wasn't expecting you to stand up.

A moment of silence. Then-

"Alright, I see this has been a complete waste of my time," she sighed, annoyed, "and you did show some self restraint not attacking me like they did... of course I suppose that was just..." her words trailed off. "But I'm feeling generous today, and this pity party going on in your head really is very pathetic, so... you're free to go."

You said nothing. What was wrong with you? Why did a part of you want to come with her? You let yourself see it for a moment, not alone anymore, but by her side, gaining insight into magical knowledge and-- maybe even learning how to control it. How to do what she can do.

And you scrambled after her.

"W-wait--- wait- please..."

"Oh, now she pleads." Agatha sighed, turning around. "I think I told you to leave. Not many people get the chance to walk away from me unscathed, dearie, so consider yourself lucky and be on your merry way."

"But I want to come with you." you blurted.

She turned. Fully. Facing you again, looking utterly confused. Like no one had said those words to her before.

"With me." she echoed. "You're so desperate, aren't you? Willing to tag along with any powerful witch you meet? Darling that'll only get you more problems. You want to be safe? Learn to protect yourself. And don't get in my way again."

"But I don't know how." you said, a little more sure of yourself but still desperate. You took another tentative step closer.

"Does that sound like my problem?" she said flatly.

You looked up at her, pleading.

"Don't give me those eyes, kid, that won't work."

You blinked. Came just a little closer.

"I'll do anything you want—" you offered hopefully.

"Anything, you say?" a sly smirk on her face, prefect teeth smiling, "Anything at all?"

A nod.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into darling. I'm not much of a caring teacher."

"I don't care. Just please. Let me come with you, I can- help. I can be useful, please—"

"Alright, alright, enough of that. I don't want to listen to more of this pathetic nonsense." She scrutinized you once more, as if assessing whether or not you'd be good on your word.

"And you'll do anything I say."

You nodded. "I promise."

She smiled. Not a cruel smile, but something mocking, teasing you almost, as if saying you'll regret that later, darling. You blinked, eyes still teary, and before you could say another word she nodded. The faintest, barest, hint of a nod.

"Fine."

You swore you wanted to jump up and down. But you stayed put. Didn't move. Scared you misheard her. When you turned around again she was already walking, going down the grassy path, leaving you in the mess of her destruction.

"Come on then, hun." she called, pausing for the merest second, "magic won't wait for you, and neither will I. Let that be your first lesson."

You watched her for a moment, imposing, confident, formidable. Perhaps things would be different now. You'd make them different. You'd make sure of it. You hurried after her, trailing by her side, absentmindedly rubbing over your sore wrists and standing just a little taller. Like an apprentice. Like a witch.

A/n: title is from Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine. Feel free to comment if there's something more you'd like to see from Agatha in the future. Also, I'm thinking of making a tag list (tagging people when posting a new agatha fic) so if anyone is interested in that comment here or send me a message on private. Love y'all!! <3

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #marvel #reader insert #mine #agatha harkness x reader #marvel cinematic universe #agnes of westview #teen reader #mentor agatha harkness #mentor and student

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