#if there's one thing i knew we'd never get but that i really wanted it was the reappearance of touya's bottom lashes 😔
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reineydraws · 28 days ago
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✚ BROTHERS! ✚
(shouto will live out his idle childhood daydreams, even if he has to reverse their roles himself haha)
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pankomako · 1 year ago
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sometimes i think about interactions boat and i have had and things he's said to/about me over the years and it makes me feel as though i must occupy some little space in his heart. like i live in his mind rent-free the way he does for me, although not nearly to the same extent lmao.
speak of the goddamn devil i just got a steam notification he's playing tf2
anyway i never thought i'd have that kind of effect on a person, much less my favorite content creator. but it sure appears to be that way, and idk. it makes me feel special. warms my heart n all that :)
#was one of two people to give me their phone number when i had to drop off of discord 2 years ago#never took advantage of it though (shy (also we have different brands of phones so texting probably wouldnt work right#other person was an irl friend (never contacted them either#i remember one time YEARS ago when he was wanting to read jjba on stream or smth like that#him: it's like REALLY not family friendly me: well i shouldnt watch bc i am a Child him: no its ok you dont have to skip It's very dirty th#like guy clearly just wanted me there bc he enjoys my company And he's said he does! i remember him saying he likes seeing me in chat#and once again he was the one that wanted me on the staff team when usually the staff pick new recruits and boat has final say#and apparently he's talked about me to his other friends. that's kinda where the old Time to Mod in-joke started#he was using voice to text to talk to whoever and said my username but the thing misinterpreted it#that coupled with the meme drawing i did that he edited so it's him just saying 'pain'. eventually that dumb fucking image spawned#and then there was the night he spammed it and spam mentioned me in chat when he was streaming while i was ASLEEP#once we were in a vc and he was like 'wow i'd forgotten what your voice sounded like' NEVER heard him say that to anyone else. What#dont even get me started with him and my artwork (man would probably flip tf out seeing what i can do now LOL)#guy literally wanted ME to design an official tff logo but at that point they were kinda slowing down so it never happened#but yeahno i just. ugh. our friendship means a lot to me. i am ITCHING to speak to him again you have no idea#and to just give him a big ol hug. been wanting that for such a long time#quite frankly a friendship dynamic like no other ive seen#dont mind me REMINISCING. im sooo sappy about him he's the most important guy in the world to me#if god exists he knew we'd be too powerful if we grew up together
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5sospenguinqueen · 3 months ago
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You Got Me Tripping - Mick Schumacher x Williams! Reader
Summary: They say you should never meet your heroes - or the offspring of your heroes - and when you make a complete ass out of yourself in front of Mick, you might agree
Warnings: Swearing. Fluff.
Williams development driver. Pinterest pics
I'm not in love with this but I had the idea so it had to be written haha
F1 Masterlist
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f1news just posted
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liked by landonorris, lilymhe and others 
f1news accurate reenactment of the moment when williams’ development driver, Yn Ln, met the son of hero michael schumacher
 and forgot how to walk 
1,221 comments
user1 i love how they can’t post the actual video footage netflix got because you know she threatened everyone to bury it
user2 not the drivers being summoned to a trashy news blog dedicated to them
→ user3 they too are obsessed with this development
its_yn_ln is this what people call news these days? boring!
→ landonorris speak for yourself, this was hilarious 
→ alex_albon i have it saved as my lockscreen
→ logansargeant i’ve definitely watched it more than 10x
→ its_yn_ln i hate you all 
→ georgerussell63 even me? i can introduce you to the hero of your stumblings
→ landonorris probably not the best idea, mate. you'd need her to stay in one piece 
→ williams so do we, she’s our reserve 
user4 she lost aura points for this 
user5 i get it. i too would trip over thin air if mick schumacher smiled at me like that 
user6 why are we all forgetting the most important part?
→ user7 you mean how red she went when he helped her up
user8 and the way he launched forward to catch her 
→ user9 no wonder she swooned
→ user10 mhm if those arms were wrapped around me 😏
williamsracing just posted
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liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher and others 
williamsracing following contact earlier today between Yn and the concrete, we’re pleased to confirm that the driver sustained little more than a bruised ego
5,335 comments
its_yn_ln watch yourself, i know where you work 
→ jv.f1 stop threatening the admin, please
→ its_yn_ln but they’re bullying me 
logansargeant where’s the post about my suffering? i had to listen to her complain about how embarrassed she was
→ its_yn_ln stop exposing me! 
→ user11 you’ve exposed yourself 
→ its_yn_ln i really hope i didn’t. nobody said my jeans split
→ landonorris trust me, if we'd seen your ass, you'd have seen me retching
its_yn_ln that’s a lie, i suffered a wound to my elbow 
→ alex_albon it’s a scrape, you didn’t even bleed 
→ its_yn_ln i’ve lost a layer of skin! 
→ alex_albon maybe that’ll make you go faster in practice tomorrow 
→ its_yn_ln @/lilymhe leave him 
oscarpiastri the figure chasing Yn is actually lando
→ its_yn_ln he tried following me into the bathroom earlier! 
mickschumacher i hope she recovers quickly 
georgerussell63 do you want me to ask him to kiss it better?
→ its_yn_ln do you want me to edge you off the track in practice? 
→ williamsracing you’re not allowed to say these things
→ its_yn_ln i’m gonna have to undergo pr training after this, aren’t i?
→ alex_albon yes
→ logansargeant yes
→ williamsracing yes
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mickschumacher just posted
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liked by georgerussell63, its_yn_ln and others 
mickschumacher silverstone 🇬🇧
3,470 comments
pierregasly i have not heard from Yn since these were posted
georgerussell63 can we check nearby holes in case Yn tripped into one
→ its_yn_ln this is why lewis is my favourite merc member
→ georgerussell63 not mick?
→ its_yn_ln i decline to answer that 
alex_albon somebody check on Yn, please
→ landonorris she seemed fine when i passed hospitality. she was enjoying her lunch ;)
→ logansargeant again? interesting. i knew there was a reason she was hiding from williams this weekend
→ charles_leclerc @/pierregasly pay up 
maxverstappen1 why am i reading through mick’s comment section?
→ danielricciardo because we all like seeing Yn getting teased
→ its_yn_ln you’re both off my christmas card list
williamsracing please release your hold on our driver
mercedesamgf1 mick, as much as we love you, we have a couple of admins demanding someone back
→ mickschumacher no thanks
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its_yn_ln just posted
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its_yn_ln when you both get a weekend off and he finally takes you on the picnic he’s promising for the past month 
3,666 comments 
alex_albon it’s not funny when you embrace it
→ its_yn_ln it’s not funny anyway?
→ georgerussell63 not true
→ its_yn_ln @/carmenmmundt leave him
→ alex_albon stop telling our girlfriends to leave us
→ its_yn_ln stop being douchebags then
user11 guys hear me out. what if it’s mick?
→ user12 feels like you're taking a joke just a tad too seriously
→ user13 no, no, let her talk 
landonorris another day, another slay
→ its_yn_ln let’s get you back to the home, grandma
→ landonorris only if we take you back to the fracture clinic
→ its_yn_ln i fell one time! 
→ oscarpiastri it was twice
→ mickschumacher when was the second?
danielricciardo who’s car was coolest?
→ its_yn_ln mine, i had a daytona
→ mercedesamgf1 whoa, he’s building a merc so he clearly wins
williamsracing we get palpitations every time we see your name trending on twitter
→ its_yn_ln i read the pr manual, this doesn’t break the rules! 
→ williamsracing that doesn’t mean we trust you! 
→ logansargeant ouch. and i thought it was just my heart they broke 
user11 okay so she mentioned them both getting a weekend off, it’s the first weekend without a race after the triple header so he’s obvi a driver 
→ user11 then they’re building lego cars. what do mick and yn do for a living? drive cars
→ user11 and then she used a warning slippery floor sign for a meme when the whole internet  has been teasing her for falling over when she first met him 
→ its_yn_ln the fbi needs to hire some of y’all
lilymhe answer my texts, please!!! and thanks xx
mickschumacher looks like a fun weekend
→ its_yn_ln it was! 
→ user14 this is such a bland interaction
→ user11 it’s obvi deliberate babe. they’re trying to throw us off
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mickschumacher just posted
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mickschumacher how could i resist when she literally fell for me 
4,774 comments
its_yn_ln i hate you 
→ mickschumacher that’s not what you were whispering in my ear in that photo 
lilymhe the cutest
→ its_yn_ln whoa, what about us?
→ lilymhe you never fell over for me
→ alex_albon you’re not mick schumacher 
georgerussell63 you can put her down, she’s definitely not going to run away from you 
→ mickschumacher yes but if her feet don’t touch the floor then she can’t fall 
its_yn_ln at least i know you’ll be around to catch me <3
→ landonorris this is gross. go back to publicly humiliating yourself 
→ its_yn_ln just because i have more rizz than you 
→ landonorris not sure how
→ mickschumacher she’s cute. you’re not 
mercedesamgf1 where is your protective gear?
→ its_yn_ln i told you that we'd get in trouble if you posted that 
→ mickschumacher but i wanted everyone to see how good you looked on top of my bike 
→ alex_albon please stop. i can't take anymore giggling
→ logansargeant and i have to listen to her gush about you 
→ williamsracing we are all suffering 
→ its_yn_ln vengeance! this is what happens when you cyberbully me
charles_leclerc this doesn't make her seem very hardcore!
→ its_yn_ln you take that back! i have a reputation to maintain
→ mickschumacher darling, i think you ruined that reputation months ago when we met
f1 and they said being a development driver was only good for getting a seat
→ user16 f1 bringing together true loves
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Tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @evie-119
Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)
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ltleflrt · 8 months ago
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Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol
So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.
So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.
Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.
I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.
In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.
(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)
I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.
Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.
This post is for them.
Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."
Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.
Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.
Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.
And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.
AND:
This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.
You're valid. You're one of us too.
And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)
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bunnys-kisses · 1 month ago
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hear that thump? i can't get enough.
lando norris
cw: smut/pwp, seduction, unprotected sex, the reader seduces lando, zak brown's daughter!reader, dirty talk, missionary position, pregnancy
this bunny runs on comments and reblogs! feed the rabbit!! *thumps foot*
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this felt wrong. but in the world of formula one, wrong didn't always mean bad. or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself as you got ready.
you got on the sheer stockings and the pearl necklace that you had gotten as gift. you made sure your hair was perfect, everything was in place. you had actually redone your make-up twice because you hated how it looked. everything had to be perfect for tonight.
you believed it was the night that would save mclaren.
another look in the mirror, you tried not to hyper focus on perceived flaws. you exhaled deeply, you were getting into your head. you placed your hands on your hips and examined yourself from all angles. you sighed, "he's not going to care, he's a guy your age. they only care about one thing."
yet, you worried.
you felt responsible for helping your father, zak brown, keep his driver's for the 2025 season. especially one in particular, lando norris. there was an uneasiness under the surface, while the tabloids and rumor reddits hadn't caught wind of it yet. you could tell that lando was looking away from mclaren.
and you knew that your father wanted to keep him in that driver's seat for the team. so as you got yourself ready for a dinner with lando, you felt the hammer in your chest. you looked in the full length mirror in your bedroom before you grabbed your purse and headed to the uber outside of your apartment.
lando was waiting outside the resturant for you, one hand in his pocket and the other on his phone as he tried to keep himself busy. you felt a hammering in your chest. tonight was simple, seduce lando norris.
"lando!" you chirped as you walked towards him. your heels clapped against the concrete under you. your arms open in a friendly manner. he looked up and beamed at you. you embraced him tightly, he returned it and even picked you up a little.
"there she is, oh wow. i haven't seen you in forever!" he laughed.
you smiled at him and placed a hand on his bicep, "i saw you you like three months ago! i have been busy with university."
he chuckled, "i know, i know. i'm pretty sure you had to squeeze in getting dinner with me."
you replied, "lando, you're more than worth it. i'll clear a whole day if i had to." then you took him by the hand, "come on, let's eat." the place was beautiful with the food prepared in a way that screamed expensive.
you sat across from him and laughed at all his stories. you could tell that he was enjoying the attention. the smiles, the food, the bit of liquor. he even complimented your laugh when one of his jokes really landed and you got a little louder than normal.
"lando. can you be honest with me?"
"anything."
you pouted a little as you leaned a little bit forward. the low light of the restaurant caught the colour of your eyes perfectly. the way you sat gave him an ample view of your cleavage. you asked softly, "you're not leaving mclaren, are you?"
"no.. i mean... no, no." lando seemed a little nervous answering.
you replied, "good. because i'd hate to see you go. i like our time together and well, i was hoping we'd have more time." you gave a soft smile, "you always were my favorite." then your eyes cast down to you half finished meal.
the sight of you, you almost looked vulnerable. sweet and soft, the kind of woman that lando wanted on his cock. he knew it was wrong, fucking the boss' daughter. but you were both adults. and your sweet words of praise only enticed him, made blood rush to his cheeks. colouring him pink.
you poked at the piece of pepper on your plate as you sighed, "don't leave me, lando. promise?"
he shifted in his seat and nodded dumbly. hook, line and sinker. he replied, "of course, i'd never leave you. who even told you i was thinking about it? because i wasn't."
you shrugged, "you know what rumours are like. hard to tell fact from fiction."
lando placed his arm across the table, palm up so you could hold his hand. delicately you placed your hand in his. he gave it a firm squeeze. not enough to cause damage, but to reassure you.
he said, "don't worry, beautiful. i'm not going anywhere. plus, i think i look a lot nicer in orange." he chuckled. any correspondence he had with the likes of alpine slipped out of his mind and replaced with thoughts of your beautiful smile and soft curves. alpine was nice, but the softness of your pussy was even better.
you ended up back at his place, he drove you both him with his hand on your thigh. every so often you caught him catching a glimpse at you.
"if you're worried about my father finding out. don't worry, he's not an over protective monster. if anything he'd be happy that one of his boys is taking such good care of me." you said.
"right, right. i just keep thinking that this is all a dream and i'm going to wake up with a mess in my boxers." he gave your thigh another squeeze as he went into the parking garage of the building he lived in.
his lips were on yours once you were in the elevator. he had you pressed against the mirrored glass with your thigh up against his waist and his fingers pushing the bottom of your dress skirt. his kisses were hungry, like a man on a mission.
and it made you run hot, this was better than expected. it seemed almost too easy, but you were happy that you got confirmation out of him that he was going nowhere.
you giggled against his lips, tasting the fine dining on them. when the elevator opened to his floor. he took you by the hand and led you out. once in his apartment, you pressed up against the side of the couch with the man's lips on you once more.
"you're something else, miss brown." he chuckled as his lips at your pulse point. he could feel your rapid heartbeat, his hands at your middle, feeling you up.
"and you're boring, mister norris?"
lando pulled away and grinned at you, "of course not. i just never thought someone like you would end up with a driver."
you laughed, "and what, let all the grid bunnies have fun? be for real!" you tried to get the zipper of the dress undone, but lando took over. he watched you undress once the zipper was pulled down.
you looked beautiful in the nude colour underwear you wore. you skin looked softer in the gentle lighting of the living room. you crossed your arms a little, a little embarrassed by your lack of clothes.
but lando took your arms away and said, "hey, nothing to be ashamed about. you're beautiful." then he started to undress as well. before it could go any further, he led you to the bedroom.
you practically bounced on the bed as you got onto it. and lando was quick to get the sheer tights off of you. his hands lingered around you left calf, giving it a squeeze which made you heart race.
you got out of your bra while he got out of his slacks. you swallowed harshly when you heard the jangle of his belt buckle. the heavy metal made you hot.
both of you were undressed and lando had you laid out on the bed. he wanted to look at you while you fucked. the intensity of the need for you made his brain run in circles. he got between your legs on the bed, his cock yearned for the softness of your wet pussy. he felt his heart skip when he dragged his hand up and down his length in anticipation.
you smiled at you, "lookin' good, norris."
he licked his lips, "of course, only for you." then guided his cock into you. he tensed up for a moment at the warmth, but soon relaxed once he got himself inside of you. heat flooded his cheeks further and the stagger in his heart gripped him.
"you look very handsome, lando. were you hoping you were going to get laid tonight."
he replied, "no, no. i just wanted to dress to impress you." he felt the twist in his gut at the sight of you. you looked so beautiful under him. as you pushed hair out of your face and felt him start to move. your mouth opened a little to moan.
you hid your face for a moment and smiled against your wrist, "well, i wanted the same. i just got so worried that you were halfway out the door with the team."
he moved against you, his cock touching some of your most sensitive areas. he hunched over you and groaned heavily. he was a loud one in the bedroom. he licked his lips as he gazed at your perfect form. he said, "i..i thought about it. ya know what it's like. it feels like everyone is dangling something in front of me. but, not you."
you hid your face a little more. while most were danging cars and money in front of lando's face. you were nude under him in his bedroom. as the bed squeaked under you.
"of course not, lando." you giggled, covering up your lie, "you know i'd still hold you very dear even if you went to another team." you gave him the sweetest look you could give him and it made him grin.
a little white lie wouldn't kill lando. not for the sake of the team. plus, his sweet noises only made warmth pool in your gut as he thrusted his hips.
you reached for him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. his face was up against your neck as you two moved in sync with one another. there was a fire burning in you. you cunt felt full in the best was possible.
"you feel like a dream." he admitted.
"and you feel just as nice." you said with suck softness. your little plan was working. you were winding lando up between your fingers. he wouldn't be going far after this.
you two kissed once more, it was less feverish. you felt the pleasure seep through your blood. you felt hot all over and your back felt sweaty against the navy blue sheets. you held onto his hair and softly scratched at his scalp, he moaned lazily into the kiss.
when he pulled away, he really started to work at your pussy. both of you were loud in the privacy of the his apartment. you held onto him tighter and you could hear his sweet praise.
"you're so fuckin' beautiful. i don't know why we didn't take the chance sooner. you look so good under me. the perfect girl. i was stupid for not seeing it sooner, like when we met. fuck. i need you, i want you."
lando's words were honey on your brain. you scratched into his shoulders as he continued to rut against you. your bodies moved in a quick yet steady rhythm. all building to the climax.
even in the depths of immense pleasure, you were patting yourself on the back for getting lando so pussy drunk that he was willing to stay with your father's team. you had concluded that you were a good seductress.
"lando."
"i know. i know. it all feels so good." he panted.
a few more heavy strokes of his cock and you were pulling him into a searing kiss. your legs locked around his waist. the kiss was messy and made a heat run through him. fuck, you felt amazing. you came with his cock stuffed into you and it was a head rush for you.
your heart hammered in your chest as you felt euphoria. lando took it as a chance to continue to drill his cock into you. his words were loose and messy, praise for you. it warmed you even more. he was close behind you and with his own climax it took the wind out of him. when he stopped thrusting, he got down beside you.
he was face planted into the soft covers of his bed, his cock throbbed and drooled a little bit of leftover cum. you chuckled at the sight and rolled over onto your stomach as well to throw an arm over his sweaty back.
you pulled him in for a kiss on the face and he made a sweet noise. he felt perfect and you felt achy in all the right ways. you thought that you had convinced him not to leave mclaren. to stay with the team and stay with you.
-
it turned out that it took more than one night to convince lando to stay. over the course of the summer break, he was constantly at your apartment. your little mission was a success but, also a failure.
a failure in the way that the birth control pill had a failure rate of 7%. lando stayed with mclaren, even signed a nice multi-year contract. it was hard to look at other teams when he was coming home to his beautiful future wife.
while it was a shocker to everyone, the news almost made your father break a blood vessel, it made sense. you two were around the same age, in the same circles. of course, lando norris was going to get you pregnant. but, it was worth it. the team was saved!
"i can feel him kicking." lando said softly.
except now you had a clingy fiance who was currently pressed up against your belly. his large hand across your middle as he practically melted. you had come to the conclusion that you sucked at the art of seduction, and that maybe your line of work should be a little different than trying to make deals with drivers under the table.
because most seductresses didn't end up very pregnant with a future formula one prodigy within a year.
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f1boistrash · 6 months ago
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i have a name | l.s
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a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister
summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much
Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'
But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.
Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.
The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.
"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.
"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.
"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.
You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."
Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.
You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.
It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.
"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.
"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.
"That bad huh?"
"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."
The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.
"You get used to it." You shrugged.
"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."
"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.
"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.
"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.
"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.
You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."
-x-
"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.
"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.
He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"
"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.
You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.
"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"
"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.
"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."
Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."
"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.
It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.
Y/N:
Thank you again for tonight.
His response was quick making your stomach flutter.
Logan:
You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N
Y/N:
I know
I enjoyed talking to you tonight
So thank you for your company 😊
Logan:
I enjoyed talking to you too 😊
I hope we can do it again some time
You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.
Y/N:
I would love to â˜ș
Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙
Logan:
Good luck Y/N 😊
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galedekarios · 11 months ago
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one thing that really tugs at my heartstrings while going through the epilogue files a bit more is how desperately gale wants to stay in touch with the protag (unromanced) and the friends he's made on their journey together.
not only has he talked to his students about the protag and their adventures at length, he invites the protag to be a guest lecturer:
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Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you.
he is also happy to invite the protag to his tower for the duration of their stay:
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Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower. Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.
and even if they should refuse his invitation to be a guest lecturer, he hopes they'll at least consider coming to visit him in his tower in waterdeep:
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Player: I'll respectfully decline. Sounds too much like hard work to me. Gale: I totally understand. Perhaps our exploits might be a little on the mature side for my students, come to think of it... Gale: Still, at the very least you must come visit me. I've a pantry full of Waterdhavian delicacies and a delightful bottle of Elverquisst with your name on them... devnote: Attempting to persuade the player to visit him, really wants them to come [if the player is illithid] Player: My diet is more... cerebral these days, Gale. You'll need to rethink your menu. Gale: Say no more. There's a wizard in Blackstaff's anatomical department who owes me a favour, no questions asked. All diets will be catered for. I can hardly wait. [if the player rejected to become an illithid] Player: Good food and good company? Now that I can manage. Gale: Excellent, excellent, excellent. I can hardly wait. devnote: Relieved you've accepted his offer
[end of convo for both] Gale: It will give us plenty of time to catch up on your adventures. Gale: I'm very curious to know what you've been up to these past months, but I suspect the telling of that tale would keep you tied to me all evening. Gale: So, in the spirit of selflessness I encourage you to mix and mingle for now. We've time enough to come. devnote: Looking forward to staying in touch with the player
he's crushed if the protag refuses:
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Player: Sorry, Gale. I don't think that's going to happen. Gale: Oh. Well, no matter. Dinner alone can be every bit as enjoyable as with company. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it Tara the Tressym: Alone? And what am I - a stuffed toy? Gale: Please - enjoy the rest of your evening. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it
this all ties into another little moment after this first conversation.
if the protag has talked with gale already and has hugged him, there's a second, shorter conversation, in which gale gets choked up as he reminisces over how the party is together once more:
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Gale: I can't believe this is real. I never thought we'd gather like this again. devnote: Taking in the moment, appreciating it Gale: It's quite... ahem, yes really quite lovely. devnote: Getting a bit choked up, trying to hide it/breeze past it
tl;dr: gale loves his friends so very, very much and hopes they'll allow him to be able to stay in contact with them.
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nyctophiliq · 1 month ago
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✼ ┆ "WHERE ART THOU? WHY NOT UPONETH ME?". ellie williams — “i bet we'd have really good bed chem.”
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synopsis.                   you just looked so soft, almost innocent, the true definition of fizzling with sins that she needed for her new assigment
content warnings.           MDNI, nsfw content, female-bodied reader, minor dark content, continuation of 'the ideal art inside you' if you squint, reader is whiny and for what? FOR FINGERS, fingering, knife/mixing knife/palette knife (it's used for mixing paint FYI), use/mention of blood
author's note.                   I KNOW THE TITLE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ART, but you gotta give me credit for the double-fisting that this fic is gonna be, both art and "art" is gonna be involved LMAO enough yapping, haven't written for ellie in a hot minute, enjoy the sickening(?) smut
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you could never really understand the idea behind how just one look at an empty bowl, a half-filled glass of orange juice, a silly joke you made, or an irritated professor spitting their truth out onto their class sparked the countless paintings, drawings, and songs ellie came up and eventually made it into a thing. sure, some of these little things flickered some creativity in you too that made you reach for an eraser and pencil, but never in the same sense compared to ellie's.
it's one of her 'running on fumes and creating art', or in layman's terms- she is late with an assignment again.
as she kneeled above you in awe, three fingers knuckle deep inside of your hot and flushed cavern, just barely moving to keep you letting those lustful noises out that she adored so much. ellie's cheeks flushed red- was it more because of how worked up she was getting and less because of how embarrassed she felt being so vulnerable? is it desperation for your physical validation or that her mind is so starved of art it depraves her thoughts?
so many questions are and will be left unanswered, you whimper, hips arching into her hand when her fingertips curl the slightest, all your queries slipping from your mind for the benefit of ellie not slipping out of you.
she was experimenting, as she does most of the time, trying to see how much more and how different sounds can you let out. a rough hum leaves you, a sweet little cry that could alone send her over the edge.
"a little bit more, alright?"
she wasn't that cruel, it's only been fifteen or so minutes that she edged you and as much as she knew how mean of her it was to just want to listen to your moans all day, until your throat went sore, until your brain was incapable of recreating human noises. she really couldn't keep her own canvas empty, unfinished, waiting for her to find a solution to the theme and topic that landed the two of you in this position in the first place.
you mewled, losing sense of your surroundings as her fingers curled once again. the tips were touching that spongy spot inside of you, forcing a sudden hiss out that turned into a content sigh as you felt the knot in your stomach slowly tea. your breath shortened, hand grabbing into her knee as soon as she picked her pace up.
"'m g-gonna cum...!"
that's when she knew, the second you dug your nails into her skin, bruising her as you did so, ellie pulled out one of her blunter mixing knives, with not much time to think about where or how to make the cut for your blood fizzling with ecstasy.
but the best idea she had was your hand, it was already on her, and you wouldn't even notice in your orgasm-diluted sense of reality. "go on, let it all go." as she whispered the words she made the cut, not too deep, not too shallow, breathless as she watches both you and the blood trickle all over and dampening skin.
"fuck, fuck, i c-can't-"
oh, at times like this how soft she could be, leaning down to cradle you with her body, lowering herself so you can burry your face into her shoulder, the satisfied sighs and moans leaving your mouth soaked up by her skin and bones as your juices leaked into her palm. she pulled away, not too fast, not too slow as her fingers slipped out of you before she gazes at the back of your hand still sitting on her knee, twitching from the last of your orgasm. she played with the stretchy juices for a second but she was quick to go and waste it away by drying her fingers in the sheets. her lips agape as her breath got heavy, shaking as she replayed your moans in her head- the second she cut you, the slow trickle and your faltering noises, how she mentally was picking out the brush she's gonna steal the glistening red liquid away from you to plaster her canvas in with.
she got what she wanted, and you got what you deserved.
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thegoldencontracts · 6 months ago
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Prefect
Azul is your boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, as in, person you're in intimate and romantic relations with. So why, just why is he still calling you Prefect?
Notes: credit to @/cephalo-punk for the idea... Im sorry for my sins, reader is the Prefect, GN reader as usual
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You and Azul had a wonderful relationship, really. Wonderful, and romantic, and everything. It was safe to say you two were closing, dating, even. Yes, you two were dating. For months now.
And what did people usually call their partners whom they were dating? Their first name, maybe a petname. They usually dropped the titles.
But not Azul. No, Azul could never drop the title you held. Why? Who knew?
"Prefect!" Azul's voice pulled you out of your frying pan of rage only to plummet you into its fire. Ah, yes, that 'nickname'. That damned nickname. "Would you like to dine together this weekend? My treat, of course. I secured a reservation to that restaurant you kept ogling on our trips together. I know, I truly am a benevolent soul."
And yet, immediately your rage was quelled. Azul was asking to take you out on a date. And especially this week - Finals' must've left him completely swamped, no? But he did. And he even got a reservation to that one place that you somehow forgot the name of! Sure, you didn't remember the name, but you did remember that those reservations were super hard to get.
So, did the Prefect thing really matter that much?
"I'll gladly go on a date with you, Azul!" You said. Azul's lips jutted out ever so slightly.
"A 'date' is one way to call it, I suppose," he said. "Really, Prefect-"
Nevermind. In an instant, your mood was dampened by that stupid term of address. He loved you enough to go through all this trouble, and you really appreciated that, honest! You just wanted him to use your goddamn name!
Wait. You had an idea.
"Fine, fine, I'll stop teasing you," you said. "Housewarden Ashengrotto."
Azul looked at you in confusion.
"Housewarden Ashengrotto?"
"That's you, silly!" You said, like you didn't know the real reason behind his question.
Azul's face puckered up in displeasure, like he'd just eaten a sour lemon. He stayed silent for a while before speaking up again.
"Have I done something to offend you, Prefect?" He asked.
"Nope!" You said. "Why, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"
Azul's eye twitched.
"You've decided not to call me by my name all of a sudden," he said.
You smirked.
"Well, since you don't call me by mine, I thought we'd be on even footing!"
The realization hit Azul like a truck. His eyes widened, only to narrow as his cheeks flushed in an indignated pout.
"W-Well- that's different, er-" Azul sighed. "Does it truly upset you that greatly?"
You couldn't help but soften up a bit at that. He really didn't mean you any harm, even if you did still think it was uncharacteristically stupid of him.
"How does it feel when I call you Housewarden?" You asked. His face darkened.
"Point taken."
"Good," you said. "So, why don't you try calling me by my name?"
Azul's eyes widened.
"E-Eh?"
"You heard me. We should be on even footing, right, Housewarden Ashengrotto?"
Azul gulped. If he wanted you to call him by his name again, he'd have to do this, and obviously he was going to, since it was clearly important to you, but...
It was hard.
"O-Of course," he said. "E-Er, Pre- ah-"
And then he said your name. Without "-san" added as an honorific. Nothing of the sort, just your name.
You smiled.
"Yes, Azul?"
And just hearing his name again made Azul beam.
"Why don't we go to your place? It's getting rather late."
"I would love that."
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livelaughpeg · 3 months ago
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I'm writing this from a throwaway account, because you know...Scientology.
I want to preface this post by saying I am not one of those "I knew it all along!" people. I can't stand that attitude. I was pretty ambivelant towards Neil Gaiman. Prior to the allegations, I didn't hate him but I wasn't that interested in him as a person either. I don't think you can always tell when someone is a bad or good person simply by the topics they write about. If that was the case we'd be arresting every horror writer on earth.
But one thing that did always rub me up the wrong way was the way he talked about getting work.
I borrowed and read "Make Good Art" (a small book based on a speech he gave to graduates at the University of the Arts) at a time in my life that I was really struggling to get by (I still am to some extent, but in a different way). I expected to see some practical advice. Instead it was a bunch of glib shit like:
I got out into the world, I wrote, and I became a better writer the more I wrote, and I wrote some more, and nobody ever seemed to mind that I was making it up as I went along, they just read what I wrote and they paid for it, or they didn’t, and often they commissioned me to write something else for them. Looking back, I’ve had a remarkable ride. I’m not sure I can call it a career, because a career implies that I had some kind of career plan, and I never did. The nearest thing I had was a list I made when I was 15 of everything I wanted to do: to write an adult novel, a children’s book, a comic, a movie, record an audiobook, write an episode of Doctor Who
 and so on. I didn’t have a career. I just did the next thing on the list.
Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art. I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.
Yeah, well, no shit. If you're a writer or artist you probably do anyway. Whether you get paid for it or not, whether you draw fan art or original art. But the point of Gaiman's speech was to give advice to people who wanted to be paid for their art. To make a career of it. Making art every day isn't always enough. You have to pay the damn rent, you have to eat, you have to network and do social media and promote yourself, and you have to do it while thousands of other people are doing the same thing in a massive crowd of people who want the same thing. Practical advice is much more valuable than platitudes and theory.
I am not a writer, I'm an illustrator, and let me tell you that for most people, 'getting your foot in the door' isn't a one time thing. Quite often you have to work at getting your foot in the door again and again until you become established, and it's very easy to be forgotten. I still feel like I'm in that stage now.
I watched my peers, and my friends, and the ones who were older than me and watch how miserable some of them were: I’d listen to them telling me that they couldn’t envisage a world where they did what they had always wanted to do any more, because now they had to earn a certain amount every month just to keep where they were. They couldn’t go and do the things that mattered, and that they had really wanted to do; and that seemed as a big a tragedy as any problem of failure.
The implication was that he was successful because he wrote every day and his friends weren't because they didn't, because you know, working a second job is tiring. He called this a tragedy, but there was something very glib about the way he narrated this.
I think someone had more financial cushion that he was letting on.
And yes, sometimes it does work that way, (some people are very lucky and make all the right connections) but Gaiman was getting Big Jobs right off the bat and something about that never smelt right to me after the way he talked about it.
And then I saw Jeff's tweets. Oh, that's why...
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I suspect the truth is he was living off his family's money and connections, and while I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with that if you're a struggling artist, his family are Scientologists, and I don't think he ever struggled.
I suspect it's all a lie.
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gamergirl929 · 5 months ago
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If It Were Up To Me (We'd Be Meant To Be) (Alex Morgan x Reader)
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It was the typical cliche, childhood best friends falling for one another, in this case however, it was only you who fell and judging by the wedding invitation currently resting on your kitchen counter, you'd be the only one to ever fall.
The day was like any typical day, your parents chattering away in the Morgan’s living room as you and Alex played a few feet away, the two of you giggling as you made your two dolls walk towards one another.  
“What do you mean?” You ask in confusion, your head cocked to the side, your tiny brows knitted in confusion.  
“I seen mommy and daddy kissing.” Alex says, the little girl shrugging as she leans her doll towards your own.  
“What’s a kiss?” You ask, turning back to the toys the two of you were playing with.  
“It’s what two people do when they love each other.” She says nonchalantly, playing with the doll in her hands.  
“Can anyone kiss?” You ask and she shrugs.  
“I think so.”  
You hum, turning your attention back to your own doll.  
You remain quiet for a moment, but questions plagued your tiny mind.  
“How do you kiss?” You ask, your best friend turning towards you with a small smile.  
“I think it’s like this.”  
“Awwwwww, look at them...” You hear your mother say as Alex Morgan’s lips meet yours, the two of you giggling as you part, your parents cooing.ïżœïżœÂ 
“Before we know it, those two will be married!” Alex’s father says, sharing a round of laughter with your parents.  
Though the kiss you had shared was a meaningless kiss between two children, something neither of you understood, it would lead to something much more complex the older you got, something that would lead to your heart eventually being broken.
************************************************************************
You frowned sadly as you stared down at the invitation resting on your kitchen counter, an invitation to your best friend, Alex Morgan’s, wedding.  
You’d been best friends since childhood, and that hadn’t changed throughout your adult life, the two of you growing closer and closer the older you got.  
You wouldn’t lie, you found yourself developing feelings for Alex in middle school, and those feelings only progressed as the two of you got older.  
Those feelings had in no way dissipated, even as you stared at the invitation resting on your marble kitchen counter.  
You flip the invitation over, not wanting to read the name of your best friend and her soon to be husband on its surface.  
You bury your face in your hands, your stomach churning as your eyes again drift to the invitation, one that is now upside down, the names no longer visible.  
You knew you missed your chance; you knew you couldn’t go back and change things, the wedding date was cemented now, and there was no changing it.  
You knew you couldn’t go; you couldn’t watch the woman you loved marry someone else. 
You had to come up with an excuse, and though you knew missing her wedding would break her heart, seeing her get married would shatter yours in such a way that you’d never be able to piece it back together.  
Your hands tremble as you move to your feet, shuffling towards the cabinet near the fridge before you produce a bottle of Vodka, screwing the cap off and taking a swig, the liquid burning your throat, it’s warmth spreading to your chest.  
If you had any say in the matter, you’d drink so much you would forget the name Alex Morgan. 
No matter how much you drank that night, you couldn’t forget Alex, you never could and deep down, you knew that.
*******************************************************
Alex Morgan’s brows knitted in confusion, the corners of her mouth drooping downwards.  
“What’s wrong?” Kelley O’Hara says as she flops down onto the bed beside Alex, the woman still staring blankly at her phone’s screen, unable to really comprehend what she’s reading.  
“Y/N just cancelled her RSVP.” She mumbles, Kelley’s eyes widening when she peers over her shoulder.  
“What?!?” She asks, scanning the email, her brows furrowed.  
She’d only met you a few times, but it was obvious to literally anyone with eyes that you were absolutely in love with the woman sitting beside her, a woman whose wedding you cancelled your RSVP for.  
Kelley knew it would be absolute torture to watch the woman you loved get married to someone who wasn’t you, if she was in your shoes, she probably would have cancelled as well.  
“Did she say why?” Kelley asks, earning a shake of the head from Alex.  
“No...” She frowns, dropping her phone onto the hotel room’s bed.  
Kelley slips an arm around her middle, pulling her towards her, Alex’s head resting on her shoulder.  
The two sit in silence, the defender trying to think of a response, but before she can reply, Alex breaks the silence.  
“We’ll be in New York in a couple weeks for our match against you guys, I’ll go see her then.” She mumbles and Kelley nods, her throat bobbing, wondering what the conversation between the two of you would entail, and hoping that for your sake, it didn’t end negatively.
************************************************************************
You did your best to avoid Alex’s multiple calls and her text messages, knowing that if you really spoke to the woman, she would see right through you.  
She could always tell when you were lying, commenting on the fact that you’d noticeably fidget, unable to meet her gaze.  
You’d come up with a bullshit excuse for missing her wedding, claiming that your office had denied your request to get the week of her wedding off.  
In reality, you’d had the week off for months, but you needed an excuse not to go, you need an excuse to miss watching her marry someone else.  
Alex’s texts and phone calls had stopped, but you knew that wouldn’t be the end of it, if Alex Morgan was anything, it was stubborn.  
What you didn’t realize was that stubbornness would lead to her knocking on your door a few weeks later, your eyes widening when you peer through the peephole and see Alex Morgan standing at your door.  
You take a deep breath, your heart racing, your chest tightening as you try to calm yourself down, your eyes fluttering shut.  
“Y/N, are you there?” Alex calls out and you clear your throat, pulling your door open with a smile on your face, one Alex notes, doesn’t meet your eyes.  
“Hey.” She says softly, closing the distance between you, throwing her arms around your neck and giving you a squeeze.  
Your arms slide around her middle, your heart racing as you hug her tightly, your eyes fluttering shut.  
Alex’s hugs never ceased to make a warmth spread throughout your chest, and make your heart thump wildly, the close proximity between the two of you making your pulse race.  
Alex buries her face in your neck and your breath catches in your throat, the tip of her nose brushing your jawline.  
“Where have you been?” She asks as she pulls back her blue orbs locking with your Y/E/C’s.  
You glance away, unable to look her in the eyes and blatantly lie to her, it’s not like you could tell her you were avoiding her calls and texts purposely.  
“I’m sorry, things have been REALLY busy at the office, I literally come home and the second my head hits the pillow, I’m out.” You shrug, turning back to Alex who inspects you closely.  
She could read you like an open book, and almost immediately she knew you were lying.  
“Y/N...” She starts and your throat bobs.  
“What?” You say as you turn away, making your way towards the refrigerator.  
“Do you want anything?” You ask, acutely aware of the fact that Alex is moving towards you.  
“Y/N...” She says again, her hand on your back, her touch making you stiffen.  
You sigh, your eyes fluttering shut as the woman caresses your back gently, smiling when you sag slightly.  
“You’ve been my best friend for over 20 years, I know when something’s wrong.” She says softly, subconsciously tracing your spine causing you to shiver.  
Her throat bobbed as she traced your spine, reveling in the way you shuddered. 
In all honesty, the way you reacted to her touch never ceased to make her heart race, in some circumstances, she’d brush her fingertips against you, just to see that reaction.  
“Y/N...” She whispers again, gently taking your shoulder and turning you around slowly, her blue orbs widening when she realizes your Y/E/C orbs are filled with tears.  
Alex cups your cheeks gently, frowning as a tear slides down your cheek, the inner turmoil in your dulled Y/E/C orbs visible.  
“Y/N-- 
Alex pauses mid-sentence, her blue orbs wide and heart racing when your lips press against hers. She remains still, unsure of what to do as your lips move against hers.  
Almost as quickly as they met hers, they’re gone, your eyes wide, your heart slamming violently against the confines created by your ribs.  
Alex remains silent, unable to find her voice, before you turn and sprint out of the apartment, putting as much distance between yourself and her as possible.
************************************************************************  
Alex wasn’t sure how long she stood in your apartment, unable to tear her gaze away from the place where you’d been originally standing.  
She never expected when she’d come to your apartment that you would kiss her, the thought of your lips meeting hers making her heart race. 
It was only when her phone started to ring that she was pulled from her daze, her head on a swivel as she surveyed your apartment, an apartment you’d bolted from sometime before.  
Alex’s feet guide her towards your apartment door, the woman slipping out of your apartment before clicking the door shut behind her.  
In all honesty, she was numb, her mind racing wildly, she had no idea what to do, but before she realized what was happening, she was sitting in the back of a taxi on her way home.  
Needless to say, when you returned to your apartment hours later and realized it was empty, you broke down, knowing that the relationship between the two of you would never be the same again.  
************************************************************************
Alex Morgan hadn’t tried to contact you after that, not a single text, or phone call, the woman doing everything she could to distance herself from you.  
Despite that, you couldn’t help but stare down at the invitation still lying on your kitchen counter with each passing day, the date of the wedding looming.  
You knew you weren’t welcome; you knew Alex wouldn’t want to see you after the unreciprocated kiss, but still you found yourself preparing for the event anyway, dressing in a well-tailored suit despite knowing you’d planned on not being seen.  
Thankfully for you, the venue wasn’t indoors, the massive and extravagant wedding being held outside, the sun high in the sky and the sea’s waves crashing wildly against the rocks nearby.  
It was easy considering you didn’t exactly have to sneak in, but you still chose to keep your distance, so much so that the wedding participants were barely visible.  
You lean against a nearby tree, your throat bobbing when you catch sight of the woman you’d come there to see, a woman who you’d kissed months ago, a woman who didn’t feel the same way as you did, and never would.  
Even at a distance, you knew Alex Morgan looked stunning in her wedding dress, the sight of her taking your breath away.  
Your throat tightened, as did your chest, the knowledge that she was about to marry someone who wasn’t you making your heart tear in two.  
It was only when she reached the altar that you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, tears that were now streaming down your cheeks.  
The man officiating the wedding starts to speak, the sound deafening to your ears despite being so far away.  
Your palms begin to sweat as you watch the wedding from afar, the urge to get a closer look, and to move further away from the venue prominent.  
You stand completely still, unable to keep yourself from watching the scene before you, a scene that was shredding your heart into tiny pieces.  
You knew Servando was speaking, you could barely see his lips moving in your peripheral vision considering your gaze was focused entirely on Alex Morgan.  
Your focus thus remained on her when the woman abruptly turned away from the man she was marrying and sprinted down the aisle, the guests gasping as Alex sprinted away from the venue.
************************************************************************  
Alex Morgan couldn’t keep her mind off you, it was her wedding day, she was about to marry the man she’d been with for years, and she STILL couldn’t get her mind off you.  
She’d replayed the moment in her head over and over again, remembered the way your lips felt against hers, and the look of fear in your eyes when you left the apartment.  
“Alex?”  
Alex’s eyes widen, her head snapping upwards, catching sight of her mother’s eyes in the mirror, the older woman’s eyes narrowed as she inspects Alex’s face through the reflection. 
“Is something wrong...?” She asks, Alex’s mouth opening and closing rapidly before it snaps shut, the woman shaking her head slowly.  
Her mother shakes her head, moving towards her daughter, her hands resting gently on her shoulders.  
“Honey, you can tell me anything.” She whispers, tucking a wild wisp of hair behind her ear as she stares at her face in the mirror.  
Alex shrugs, her throat bobbing as her mouth opens and closes yet again before she finally finds her voice.  
“What if I’m making a mistake...?” She asks, her mother’s eyes widening.  
“Why would you think that...?” Her mother asks, her thumb running back and forth along Alex’s shoulder.  
She shrugs.  
Pam hums, staring at her daughter before realization dawns on her face.  
“Is this about Y/N?” She asks, Alex’s eyes widening as her eyes meet her mothers in the mirror.  
“Why would it be about Y/N?” She asks, her mother smiling softly.  
“Honey, I know you, and I know something happened between the two of you.” She says, gauging her daughter’s reaction, Alex’s gaze falling to her lap, taking particular interest in her manicured nails.  
“What happened?” Her mother coaxes and Alex sighs deeply.  
“She...” She pauses, inhaling deeply.  
“She kissed me.” She exhales, Pam’s eyes widening, though with Alex’s head down, she misses the twitch at the corner of her mouth, the older Morgan fighting back a smile.  
“When was this?” She asks, Alex playing with her fingers nervously.  
“A few months ago.” She mumbles and Pam nods.  
“Is that why you haven’t been talking?” She asks and Alex nods silently in response.  
Pam studies her face quietly for a moment before she sighs, grabbing a nearby chair and taking a seat beside her daughter.  
“What happened after?” She asks, Alex still staring at her lap.  
“I didn’t kiss back, and she ran away.” She says, vividly remembering the look on your face after you’d kissed her.  
Pam remains silent, pondering on what to say before she speaks.  
“Did you want to kiss back?” She asks and Alex shrugs.  
“I don’t know.”  
Pam and Alex turn back towards the door, smiling when Alex’s father, Michael peeks his head in.  
“It’s time.” He says softly, moving into the room, ducking down to kiss the top of Alex’s head, completely oblivious to the conversation he’d interrupted.  
“Are you ready?” He asks, Alex’s blue orbs darting to her mothers in the mirror, the two sharing a silent conversation before Alex reluctantly nods.  
“I’m ready.”
************************************************************************
Alex blindly made her way down the aisle, her father’s arm hooked with her own, the smiling man at the end of the aisle the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with.  
Though she should’ve felt excitement, she didn’t, the thought of waking up to him every day in no way feeling as appealing as it would to wake up to you every day.  
Alex plastered on a fake smile as she reaches the altar, Servando taking her hands with a loving smile, his thumbs caressing the back of her hands.  
“I love you.” He whispers, turning away, completely unaware that she hadn’t returned the sentiment.  
The officiant starts speaking, though his words fall on deaf ears, Alex lost in her own thoughts, thoughts of what would happen if she married the man in front of her.  
If she went through with it, she would never be able to explore what she was feeling, she’d never know what it would feel like to feel your lips against hers again, she’d never know what it would feel like to actually kiss you back.  
And as the seconds passed, she realized she wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you back.  
“Alex?”  
Alex blinks rapidly, picking her head up, realizing the officiant, and Servando were looking at her expectantly, Servando’s brows knitted in confusion. 
“Do you have anything you’d like to say to Servando?” The officiant asks, and Alex swallows hard, her mouth opening and closing rapidly.  
“I can’t do this.”  
Those around her gasp as she turns on her heels and sprints down the aisle, as best as she can in heels.  
Much like you had months ago, she sprints away, unaware that you’re watching her from afar and following after her.
************************************************************************
Unfortunately, you weren’t able to catch Alex before she disappeared into a taxi, the taxi carrying her a lengthy distance away before you reach the sidewalk. 
You’re completely unaware that a number of the wedding guests had followed after the wayward bride. 
You can’t help but jump when a hand settles on a shoulder, a hand you realize belongs to nonother than Pamela Morgan.  
The older woman’s eyes lock with your own and you turn away, your throat bobbing.  
“Do you have any idea where she could’ve gone?” You hear one of the wedding guests ask Servando, the man shaking his head rapidly.  
“I don’t know.” He says sadly, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
Pam meanwhile leans towards you, whispering in your ear.  
“But you do.” She says, your eyes widening as you pull back abruptly.  
You had an idea of where she might be going, a place the two of you frequented when you were growing up, a place the two of you would run to when you needed to get away from the world around you.  
Pam nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.  
“Go.”  
You swallow hard, searching her face momentarily before you nod, turning away from the older Morgan before you sprint off, intent on following after your best friend and the woman you were hopelessly in love with.
************************************************************************
The clearing in the small woods behind Alex’s childhood home that you’d frequented as kids hadn't changed all that much, the large rock the two of you would lounge on still resting a few feet away from the small stream running by.  
And that’s of course where you find Alex, the woman completely unaware of your presence as you move towards her.  
You frown at the sound of her soft sniffles, transported back to your teenager years when you’d found her in this very same position, crying about a boy who’d cheated on her.  
Even back then, you were in love with her, and you still felt that same love for her to this day. 
“Al...?” You whisper, the woman gasping as she sits up abruptly, her watery blue orbs finding your Y/E/C’s in an instant.  
Her eyes rake down your front, her throat bobbing as she turns away.  
You make your way towards her, taking a seat on the slab of stone beside her.  
The world around you falls silent, the two of you gazing at the small stream in front of you, its water flowing past slowly and softly. 
“How did you know where to find me...?” Alex croaks out and you smile.   
“This was our spot, remember?” You ask and Alex shakes her head wiping her running nose with her forearm.   
 "I know." She sniffs, remembering the times she'd found you there when you were going through something, specifically when you were hit with the realization that you were having feelings for girls, that you were SUPPOSED to be having for boys, of course, according to society’s standards.  
The two of you fall silent again, focusing on the water running by in front of you.  
“Why did you run?" You whisper hoarsely, fearful of what her answer may be.  
 Alex remains silent, the woman gathering her thoughts before she speaks.  
“Because I didn’t want to spend my entire life settling for Servando...” She pauses, slowly turning towards you, the woman delicately cupping your cheeks, your breath catching roughly in your throat.  
“When all of this time, I could’ve had you.” She whispers, caressing your cheek, smiling when you lean into her touch.  
Your eyes instinctively flutter shut as Alex leans in, her lips pressing gently against your own.  
You'd kissed twice before, a meaningless kiss when you were kids, and a kiss that unfortunately, Alex hadn't reciprocated, but now, Alex Morgan had kissed you, and you in no way hesitated to kiss her back.  
Your hands find their way to her waist as you kiss softly, her fingers knitting behind your neck as she pulls you closer.  
The kiss made your heart race, and your body tingle, a feeling you'd been longing for since you were teenagers had now come to fruition, and you never wanted it to end.  
It's only when you feel something wet on your cheek that you pull back, your eyes flashing open to reveal Alex's tear covered cheeks.  
"Hey..." You say as you cup her cheeks, swiping her tears away with the pads of your thumbs.  
"Please don't cry." You whisper as you hold her close, the woman shaking her head as she covers your hands with her own. 
“I almost made the biggest mistake of my life.” She whispers, leaning into your touch as she turns head, kissing your palm.  
“What do you mean?” You ask, unable to put two and two together in your mind at that moment.  
Alex’s watery blue orbs meet yours as she leans back in, pressing another loving kiss to your lips, your bottom lip trapped between hers, as her hands cover your own, her fingers pushing their way in between yours.  
Again, you part with much reluctance, Alex leaning her forehead against yours, the two of you breathing one another's air.  
“I almost married someone who wasn’t you.” She says, your eyes widening as you study her face intently, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.  
Your mouth opens and closes rapidly, your brain unable to respond to what Alex’s had just said, a fantasy you could’ve only ever dreamed up playing out before you.  
Alex’s hands leave yours and she gently cups your cheeks, wiping away tears you hadn’t realized were streaming down your cheeks.  
You squeeze your eyes shut, but you’re unable to keep your tears at bay as Alex scoots closer, resting her forehead back against yours.  
“And I would’ve spent the rest of my life regretting it.” She says, brushing her nose back and forth against your own, your watery Y/E/C’s opening to meet Alex’s watery blues.  
“I love you.” You whisper, your eyes widening when you realize what you’d said.  
“Wh-What I meant was-- 
You’re cut off by the press of Alex’s lips against yours, the woman pulling back with a toothy grin.  
“I love you too Y/N, I always have.” She says, tilting her head back to kiss your forehead.  
“And I always will.”  
You press a kiss to Alex’s lips again before turning back towards the stream, your arm slipping around her middle, her head resting on your shoulder.  
It was in that moment, sitting in the spot that you’d frequented as kids, you in a suit and Alex in her wedding dress that you realized this was always meant to happen, and it all started with a kiss between two clueless kids who had no idea what it meant at the time.  
Now, however, when you kissed, it meant something, it meant so much in fact that you’d eventually kiss in front of a crowd of people, you in a suit, and Alex Morgan in a wedding dress.  
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olderthannetfic · 3 months ago
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The Pawn to Queen wank was well known at the time, but it seems to have mostly sunk into obscurity... or maybe I just know too many people who never read het now?
Riley was a BNF on the very large and active When I Kissed the Teacher mailing list, which was for Snape/Hermione in that era when we knew nothing about Snape and people wrote him as a mysterious aristocrat who just needed a better hair care regimen. I remember her wangsting unsubtly every time another author got praise on the list despite being one of the most popular authors at the time and getting frequent asspats from the same posters. It was incredibly tacky and obvious, but we'd all comfort her anyway because she was popular and nobody wanted her to stop writing.
At first, PtQ was your classic Bad Guys Made Them Do It sexy dubcon hurt/comfort nonsense... And then there was the snake on rollerskates, but we ate that kind of thing up back then.
As the story went on, however, her OCs (and "OCs" stolen from Cyteen) started taking over the story with endless nonsense about being ~Strega~ (never "a strega", always "I am Strega"), the witchy Übermensch. The sexy Snape/Hermione stuff went out the window to the annoyance of a lot of the audience.
This was all going on as I was getting to the end of my time in college and getting busier. I eventually left the list and thus tragically missed (most? all?) what I'm told were called the "PtQ Wars". This months-long wank was reportedly about Riley revealing that a lot of the point of PtQ was to enlighten the readers as to the amazingness of objectivism. On one side were a bunch of readers explaining that, yes, really, as people who'd at some point been in proximity to a college campus and/or insufferable twats, they were amply familiar with objectivism and didn't appreciate a bait-and-switch. On the other, Riley, insisting that people Just Didn't Get It.
All I can find now are a few references to there being a wank and to Riley loving Nietzsche, nothing about Rand, but I definitely remember people saying there was specific discussion of Rand and Riley being mortally offended that others were... not fans.
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kingkat12 · 2 months ago
Text
hickeys (roman godfrey x reader)
WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, softcore-y smut, tw!bullying, Roman using his powers for no good, he's being so weird about virgin!reader, angsty fluff lol
summary: after having sacrificed your friendship with Letha for Roman's limited understanding of love and affection, you suddenly learn the consequences of your actions...
word count: 7,406 (you know me, not sorry anymore)
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9
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Roman had a hickey right on the side of his throat. Thankfully, I knew who gave him that one-- me.
It dawned on me that I had never seen him with one before. Despite how easy it was for me to get lost in the feelings of joy, finding a sense of pride at being the only one allowed to do that to him, I remembered Roman hadn't always been open to these sorts of things. He had warmed up to it gradually, with everything starting as a small incident at my place a week ago.
We had been splayed out on my bed, my face buried in his chest as I took a casual mid-day nap on top of him. It had become a habit-- Roman would come over, we'd bicker about something, then make out for about an hour until he decided to take his smoke break on my balcony. But today was different; the both of us had just finished a rather hard math test, so we were absolutely spent by the time we hit my bed. Roman didn't even have the energy to smoke, and seeing how tired he was, I decided to be bold and cuddle up to him; however, I hadn't expected us to fall asleep like this.
Weirdly enough, he didn't resist my advances. He'd usually start feeling uncomfortable as he wasn't used to affection like this, but today, Roman had his arms around me as I laid with my head on top of his chest. I had been a little embarrassed to wake up to the sight of a tiny puddle of my drool on his sweater, and I tapped the spot with my fingers as though that would make it go away.
Roman awoke, groggy. He let out a low grunt as he raised his head, trying to get a look at what I was doing. "Is that what I think it is?--"
"No," My words barely came out louder than a whisper, now covering the spot with my palm as I looked up at him with a soft smile. "Did you sleep well?"
Roman, being the stubborn asshole he was, didn't even register my question. "Did you drool on me?"
Oh God, this was mortifying. I figured he'd find out anyway; I slowly removed my hand from the spot, sliding off him. "Sorry..." As I rolled over, my back against the bed, I could only sigh. Being Roman's unofficial official girlfriend was hard, especially now that I didn't have any friends to discuss it with. 
However, there were moments where the hardships were worth it. Moments like these ones, where Roman now flipped over and unexpectedly snuggled up to me, his face hiding in the crook of my neck. "I've never been drooled on like that before," he said, his words muffled in my hair. "This is my favourite sweater."
With wary movements, I brought one hand up to his brown locks, gently stroking through them. I wasn't sure what the next sound from Roman was, but the closest thing would be a purr. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my other hand running up and down his broad back. "Want me to buy you a new one?"
Roman huffed; "Don't be stupid. I'll just leave it in the washer here if you don't mind," 
"The washer?" My hands froze, no longer ghosting over his skin with gentle touches. "It will dry up in a second, Roman, get yourself together. And even worse, I might get the urge to wear it if you leave it here." I immediately regretted that joke the second it slipped past my lips-- in hopes of brushing over it, scared he'd climb off me and go back to being his usual self, I resumed running my fingers through his hair and up his back.
To my surprise, Roman didn't react much. The only thing I could notice was a rather shaky breath against my neck, almost as though he had just had a really tempting thought. Eventually, he spoke; "It wouldn't fit you very well,"
I did my best to shrug, although that was hard to do with someone on top of me. "That's not the premise," I huffed. "People usually wear each others' stuff when they're into one another. It's a cute thing."
"... So you'd want me to leave my sweater here?" Roman eventually propped himself up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. "Why? It's not like you'd be able to wear it anywhere."
It was in moments like these that I realized how little Roman actually knew about girls. He was supposedly very good in bed, but with feelings and affection? He was like a very aggressive puppy with gorgeous fur-- some men you simply have to train to be soft. "I'd wear it at home," I said, reaching out to brush his messed up hair away from his green eyes. "Especially when it's stormy outside and I'm doing my homework."
Something about my words seemed to be leaving small cracks in Roman's shell-- had I not been so observant, I wouldn't have noticed the way his pupils dilated or the way his features softened as he looked at me. "Would it be a one-way thing?" he asked; was I imagining things, or did he sound shy? "You get my sweater, and I get..."  Roman propped himself up further, taking a quick glance around my room. It didn't take long before his eyes landed on the plain, black hair ties on my nightstand, and he wasted no time reaching for two in one go. "I get these."
Seeing him so serious about this exchange was too funny-- I couldn't help the giggle building in my chest, suppressing a rather obnoxious laugh. "Yeah, I think that's smart," I murmured, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Your hair is getting a little long... Would probably make your life easier."
Roman rolled his eyes, huffing. "It's not exactly like you have anything else lying around here!"
There was no way in hell I was about to tell him that my room was this clean because I had predicted he'd come over. "Okay, but it still works," I reached for his hand, taking the ties into my palm before rolling them over his fingers, watching as the rubber bands now sat comfortably at his wrist. "There you go!" I exclaimed, beaming up at a rather perplexed Roman. "Sweater, please."
It took a few seconds for him to react-- his eyes fixated on the black rubber ties around his wrist, and before I knew it, I saw slivers of pink appearing on his cheeks. I had never seen him react to anything like this before, and I had no idea why Roman was suddenly unmistakably blushing. "Fuck," he breathed. "That's cute." 
To hide his blush, he quickly wried his sweater off his body, throwing it away on a chair nearby before burying his face in the crook of my neck again, putting his whole weight back on me. "Promise to use it for dirty stuff too," he grumbled, probably to save face, before pressing a kiss to my neck. 
I was happy Roman didn't see how brightly I was smiling-- I would've been told off immediately, and he'd most likely retract right back into his shell. It was unusual for him to accept any sort of affection, and I wondered whether he had let anyone this close before. The more I got to know Roman, the more he was sleepy and babbling around me, I realized that I had to gradually ease physical kindness into his life to make our weird whatever-ship work. 
The whatever-ship I had sacrificed everything for.
And I would've spiraled deeper into thoughts about it, but the sudden pressure I felt against my neck made me snap out of it-- I realized he was giving me a rather hefty hickey, a familiar tingling sensation coursing its way through my body. I let out a satisfied sigh, my fingers burying themselves deeper into Roman's hair as he moved elsewhere on my neck to make a second one. "These will go well with the sweater," he purred against my skin.
I held back a shiver-- The hate I had once felt for him had quickly turned into whatever this was. All I knew, was that it felt good enough to distract me from the guilt that kept gnawing at me after betraying Letha the way I did. ïœĄïŸŸâ€ąâ”ˆà­šâ™Ąà­§â”ˆâ€ą ïœĄïŸŸ
The next day at school actually marked a month since the last time Letha and I had spoken on the bleachers. A month of staring at her longingly from afar like a kicked puppy and asking our mutual friends how she was. It didn't take long before they all heard what had happened between Roman and I, and they suddenly became Letha's friends only.
I didn't know how lonely I would be after I chose Roman, and it was slowly breaking my heart. Being blacklisted by nearly all the girls at school was tough, to say the least. 
So as I rummaged around my locker, getting ready for my next class, I didn't expect Letha to approach. There was no way I could imagine she'd do that, especially after the way she had been denying all my attempts of reconciliation. But here she was, blonde hair styled to perfection, and her green, stern eyes meeting mine the second I closed my locker door.
I stared right back, at a loss for words despite opening my mouth to speak. 
Letha cleared her throat, pressing her books tightly against her chest. "It's been a month," she tried, something about her softening with the weight of her words. "I think I might be ready to... talk."
My heart jumped up like never before, immediately thrown into a feeling of ecstatic victory. "What?" I squeaked, unable to stop my beaming look of joy. "Are you serious?" 
Letha shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress her smile. "I think it's time to try, at least?--" Her words came to a halt the second I turned to face her fully, and her green eyes immediately found my neck. 
My hair had moved to behind my shoulders as I turned around, revealing the hickeys I had tried my best to cover with setting powder and foundation. It didn't take long before Letha's softening look became one of horror as she took a step back, clearly repulsed.
I immediately went into panic, piecing it together. "No, Letha, wait!--"
There was no stopping Letha before she turned on her heel, bolting down the corridor with heavy steps. 
I turned back towards my locker, pressing my forehead against it. There was no way in hell I'd let everyone see me cry in public again. It felt as though Letha had dug her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, now squeezing it until it finally popped. My breath hitched as I stepped away from the locker, sniffling as I felt a sob build.
Just as I was about to leave and get to class somehow, the familiar scent of cinnamon entered my system. "What did Letha want?" Roman asked, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approached. His brows were drawn together in a disapproving look as he watched Letha disappear down the hallway in unmatched hurry, and I got a good glance at him when I finally turned around to face him. How long had he been watching me from afar?
Roman's glare quickly faded away when his attention shifted and he noticed the way my eyes had glossed over. His whole tough look disappeared within a sliver of a second, and I was unsure whether he noticed it himself. "... Nothing good, I see?"
I shied away from his gaze, my eyes darting down to my shoes. "She wanted to make up all until she saw... well," To demonstrate, I turned a little, showing Roman the once blank canvas which was now covered in about six hickeys that I counted last night. It was clear to me that my attempt at hiding them had failed.
Roman could only sigh, an infuriating grin now spreading across his face. "I'm going to say sorry now, but know that I don't fully mean it because... the sight of you like this is so damn hot," He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead as he took my face into his hands. I couldn't help but notice that he was still wearing my two black rubber bands just as my breath hitched at the loving gesture.
Something about the kiss made my heart skip, but another part was ripping at me; Roman clearly cared more about the fact that he had marked me than how upset I was. I hummed in response, not knowing what else to say before much later; "Don't do that,"
"Do what?"
"Don't kiss me like that," I mumbled, pressing my back against my locker to make as much space between us as possible. "Just... Don't." 
Roman's first reaction was on display with a stunned expression, up until his brows drew together in what I could only read as annoyance. "Fine," he said, teeth gritted. His hands fell down at his sides, trying to save face as he took a step away from me; "I'm just trying to make you feel a little better, it's not that fucking deep." In true Godfrey fashion, he also proceeded to storm down the hallway, clearly flustered after being shut down.
I had to take a long breath-- this was a lot to take in for one day. Roman being in denial about his feelings also didn't help much. I wanted to run after him, grab his hand and tell him that he could do absolutely whatever he wanted with me, that I'd love for him to kiss me like that once more, but I knew I couldn't.
It was hard to believe how badly I had fallen for a guy who could barely regulate his own feelings. Someone who insisted on making it apparent to everyone that I was his without actually wanting to put a name to it. I let out a sigh, watching Roman get further and further away. Something told me I maybe should've followed him, at least asked him whether he wanted to come to my place later and sleep next to each other, but my plans quickly fell apart when I witnessed the one thing I hated seeing most in the world.
In the midst of his angry storm-off, Roman managed to turn his head to allow for his eyes to follow a girl with an exceptionally short skirt passing him by. 
I wanted to throw up-- the hungry look in his eyes made me nauseous. Everything about Roman looking at someone in the way he usually looked at me made me want to burst into tears all over again. 
No matter what I felt for him, one thing would never change; I hated Roman Godfrey. I hated him and the way he made me feel like a stomped bug. Hated the way he'd look at me after he'd make me cum around his fingers, the way he'd stroke my hair away from my forehead with the gentlest touch as I fell asleep, and the way he'd insist on driving me everywhere just to spend some extra time together.
I hated him. I hated this feeling, and especially what it had done to me, my friendships, and my reputation.
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... Thoughts of my reputation went out the window now that Roman was back in my bed. Nothing suggestive, of course-- he was currently half asleep next to me. Even more heartwarming, was the fact that he still wore my two hair ties around his wrist, and I could get a proper look at him now that he was resting. I loved this feeling; we were both wearing the items we had exchanged.
"It looks good on you," he mumbled, tugging me closer with the arm he had around me. "My sweater. I thought I would hate seeing you in it, but it's not so bad."
My body was halfway on top of his, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pressed me closer to his chest. "Why did you think you'd hate it?" I adored the feeling of being completely engulfed in Roman-- the lingering scent of his perfume stuck to the gigantic sweater I was in, and his big arms around me made all my pain feel worth it. 
All up until Roman hummed, eyes still closed as his hands raked through my hair; "You wearing my stuff makes it real... Like you're mine. I don't know whether I want that responsibility,"
I could only sigh, unsure whether I should let my heart sink just yet. Sometimes, it was best to dig around in Roman's mud of a brain before settling for the version he wanted me to believe. "So you would be okay if I was with someone else?"
Roman opened one eye, glancing down at me as he raised a brow. "Are you with someone else?"
"... No,"
"Would you want to be?"
What an odd question; one he didn't need to know the truth of. "Would you care if I did?"
Roman opened his second eye, now scouring my face to check for cracks in my facade. Something told me he wasn't buying it, but that he wasn't about to take any chances. Eventually, he scoffed, rolling his eyes before closing them again; "Fuck off,"
"Fuck off yourself," I mumbled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I tried to dull out the fact that his arm automatically wrapped itself tighter around me before I spoke once more; "Answer the question."
"Why?" Roman shifted, pulling my whole body on top of his, letting out a satisfied sigh now that all of my weight was laid on him. "It's a stupid question. Why can't we just enjoy this moment?"
He had a point, sure-- I just didn't deem it enough. "I hope you remember that I have a lot on the line here," I placed my hands next to his head, pushing myself up to get a proper look at him. Roman eventually opened his big, green eyes, and they quickly rounded out as they met mine. Everything about looking into his eyes made me want to squeal and pepper him with kisses; this was dangerous territory. I knew had to pull myself together; "I have, like... zero friends because of this. Because I chose you. And you not wanting to take on that responsibility or whatever it was that you called it, makes me feel like crap. You make me feel like crap." 
It was clear that Roman was holding his breath without thinking about it. He stared up at me, unsure what to say; "... All the time?"
"What?"
"Do I make you feel like crap all the time?"
That was certainly a way to spin it-- taken aback, I furrowed my brows as I pondered the question. "Not... all the time, no,"
Roman hummed; he seemed content with that answer. "I know you're upset about the whole Letha thing," he said, his big hands traveling down to grab at my hips as he shifted me to sit in his lap. "I also see that I'm not exactly helping the situation, but... you can't keep blaming me for your decision."
"... Okay," His request was simple enough-- I was ready to adhere to his wishes. "But then you have to say it out loud."
"Say what?"
"That you like me,"
I watched as Roman's eyes widened, his grip on my hips tightening. His whole body tensed up, unsure whether to speak or not. It was clear that he was conflicted about how to tread forward, and I held my breath the second his plush lips parted. Roman sat up, his back now supported by my headboard. Like this, I was sat in his lap with my arms draped around his neck, and he connected our foreheads with a sigh. Roman's words eventually came out like a slow, warm whisper; "I don't know what I feel," 
It felt as though my heart had lodged itself into my throat-- what? I was about to start arguing with him, cursing him out for dragging me through the mud for nothing, all until Roman suddenly reached for my hand. He placed my palm over his heart, his eyes finding mine as he steadied his breathing. "I don't know what I feel," he echoed. "But I know that looking at you makes my heart beat faster. Feel how hard it's going?" He pressed my hand further up against his chest, something about his touch giving away the sincere nature of this gesture. I hadn't seen Roman doing anything this romantic before, and everything was practically perfect all up until he opened his dumb teenage mouth; "I'm serious. It usually only beats like this when I look at pictures of Sydney Sweeney in a swimsuit."
That's it-- I groaned and ripped my hand out of his grip. "Okay, that's enough. You need to leave, it's almost midnight," In an attempt to climb off him, I almost made it out of his lap before his hands grabbed my hips once more, forcing me back down as I yelped. My eyes widened as they met Roman's, watching his signature smirk spread across his lips. 
"Where do you think you're going in my sweater?" he purred, suppressing a chuckle. "My sweater, my rules. Give me a kiss before I leave, at least."
I huffed as I snaked my arms around his neck, feeling his hot breath against my lips. "And why should I kiss you?"
"Because you want to?" Roman didn't care to try to suppress his grin, gently nudging my nose with his as his grip on my waist tightened. His voice dropped, getting airy as he whispered against my lips; "You want to so bad."
Everything about him made the butterflies in my stomach flutter-- it didn't help that his hair was tousled in a classic heartbreaker look, along with how ridiculously soft his lips suddenly looked. 
Roman definitely noticed the reddening of my cheeks, concluding why I had gone mute. "Don't be like that," he teased, not doing a good job with hiding his amusement. "Just kiss me first, for once. Have you noticed that you never initiate anything?"
I held my breath-- "I just... don't know what I'm doing," My confession was unexpected, but it felt nice to get it off my chest. "I don't want you to think I'm clueless."
"But you are?" Roman's chuckle was one of mischief as his hands shamelessly trailed down my body, now grabbing my ass as he pushed me closer to him. "It's not a bad thing. Just means I can program you to my liking."
I didn't even act as though I wanted his hands off of me, giving in to his antics. Something about the way he was holding me made me feel awfully warm-- maybe it was time to take off the sweater? "Tell me what you like, then," I purred, putting my hands on his chest. I figured that if I had gone down this route, I'd continue my path with conviction. 
Roman's smirk only grew, letting out a breathy laugh against my lips as he gave my ass a firm squeeze. "That's my girl," he cooed. "We'll start simple." He nudged his nose against mine once more, his lips parting before his words came out in a hot whisper against mine; "Kiss me."
His words were too alluring to deny-- I leaned forward, my hands carefully laying against his broad shoulder as I kissed him. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Roman, who immediately dug his hands into the flesh of my behind to tug me closer. Everything about the way he was reacting to me reminded me of our first date, and the way he had held and kissed me in the alley when we were hiding from Letha. 
The kiss was slow, almost lazy; something about the moonlight hitting us was making it more intense. It mostly consisted of small, loving pecks, and many pauses to simply smile against one another. I wondered whether he had ever kissed anyone like this before, with a softness I didn't see in him very often. 
It was hard to believe that this was the same guy that had me running around scared for him to prick me with needles. The only thing pricking me right now was the hardening of Roman's cock beneath me. With every twitch, every time his hands dug into my hips in an attempt to grind me against him, I could only grin into the kiss. There wasn't exactly anything sexual about this kiss, but he would always get hard from the smallest little things-- I couldn't help but find pride in it. At least this was another confirmation that he wanted me.
Roman eventually grew frustrated, now trying to rut up against me just for any sort of friction. With that, I grabbed the headboard, raising myself with my knees so that he wouldn't succeed. As he groaned, I had to bite down on my growing smile; the look on his gorgeous face was too damn thrilling.
Roman's eyes were round, his chest sinking with a shaky exhale as a rosy flush lingered in his cheeks. "Anything," he breathed. "Just give me anything. I'll take it."
"Anything?" I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at; "What do you mean?"
His hands grabbed at my waist, signalizing that he wanted me to sit down on his arousal once more-- perhaps that felt like a relief in itself? Roman stared up at me through his brows, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I'm not asking you for sex. I'm being nice. So I'm saying I'll take anything you'll give me... Even the smallest thing," He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss against my neck which had me losing my breath within seconds, now whispering against my skin; "Just touch me." Roman's needy kisses trailed up my neck, jaw, and cheeks until his breath was hot against my ear. "However you want. Don't be shy, try it out."
Something told me that Roman was secretly into me being a virgin, after all this time of making fun of me for it. However, I wasn't about to say no to the opportunity to explore with the Roman Godfrey, and I eventually sat back down on his arousal, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red at the sound of his muffled grunt. 
My hands went up into his soft hair, pressing a kiss against his temple as my fingers stroked through his locks. "There's one thing I might want to try..."
Roman turned to nip at my jaw, his hands traveling back down to my ass. "Go for it,"
I didn't want to give him time to change his mind; my hand in his hair tightened, pulling him away from me with an unexpected roughness. I was about to apologize until I noticed the way Roman closed his eyes, and the way his lips parted in what looked like pleasure. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be the type to like a little pain, not only cause it. However, I wasn't ready to explore that at the moment-- I had another thought to attend to. 
Roman's head lolled back against the headboard as I leaned down to kiss his neck, and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. It was only when his fingers dug themselves back into the flesh of my behind that I got the confidence to pull through with my original plan; I sucked down on a particular spot, hard enough to leave a mark.
I didn't need to see his face to know that Roman's eyes were wide open with the realization of what was happening. I was ready for him to push me away, tell me off, tell me to stop-- but his arms only wrapped around me, pulling me closer in a swift motion that had me grinding up against his hard cock, and Roman let out a sigh of pleasure as he let himself be marked with a blooming hickey. 
Something told me I had to be somewhat special for him to allow me to do such a thing, and it quickly dawned on me that I had never felt this happy with anyone before, despite his shortcomings. 
I liked Roman more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I had an inkling that he felt the same. Who knew something so simple could feel so incredibly good?
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Knowing I had Roman wrapped around my finger, despite him not being able to properly say it out loud, had me floating around in my own little bubble. Everything concerning Letha suddenly felt irrelevant, and it wasn't taking up as much space in my mind as before. All I could think about was the way Roman had smiled at me as he passed me in the hall, the red hickey on the side of his neck peeking out past his shirt. The cherry on top of it were the two hair ties he still wore around his wrist-- he was enjoying this, wasn't he?
However, I was yanked back into the absolute shitshow I had caused for myself concerning my girlfriends later that same day.
My previous friends had never done anything more than glare at me from across the hall. Maybe the occasional overdramatic huff when they passed me, an extra eye-roll my way, and so I did my best to not pay it any mind. 
Which is why I was so shocked when the proceeding followed. 
It didn't bother me to sit alone at lunch-- not anymore, at least. I wasn't about to reach out to Roman to ask where he was and whether I could join him either; but just as I picked up my phone, ready put away my nerves and text him, my gaze was diverted from the screen and to the three girls that sat down in front of me.
I held my breath, my eyes widening with the realization that my previous best friends were staring at me with the nastiest looks I had probably ever seen.
Oh no.
Breathing deeply, I did my best to harden my gaze and keep my guard up. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I asked, putting my phone down on the table as I stared down the girl in the middle. Jasmine was the one I had liked the least in our friend group, and I wasn't surprised that she was the one to take action-- the rest of the girls always followed her like dogs, and it had always made me sick; especially now that they were sitting by her like docile animals.
Jasmine cleared her throat, leaning further over the table in an attempt to intimidate me; "We're just here to make you aware of something,"
"Which is...?"
Taken aback by my lack of reaction, Jasmine's eye twitched just slightly as the girls next to her grew more and more uncomfortable. "Letha told me what she saw on your neck. And sitting this close to you, I see it too... Do you not understand how it makes you look?"
There was no way for me to hold back my sarcasm; "How does it make me look? Do indulge, Jas," I couldn't even hold back my grimace at this point. "Why does it even matter to you?"
Jasmine's eye twitched once more, and she slammed her hands against the table with a loud thud. "What upsets Letha, upsets me! I'm just glad I found out what kind of person you truly are, and it brings me immense joy to realize everyone is starting to catch on to the truth as well!"
Despite how hard I attempted to stay neutral, unaffected, and unfazed, I couldn't do anything about the way my heart sunk. I couldn't even muster up anything to counter Jasmine's words, taken aback by the bluntness of my previous friend.
"Letha really wanted to reconcile, do you know that?" Jasmine continued, an evil snicker building in her throat. "But it's fucking disgusting that you walk around like you're proud to be fucking Roman Godfrey, especially when you know how much you've hurt her. Fucking traitor!"
Before I could protest, she reached for my phone which I had left unattended. There was barely any time to pry it out of Jasmine's hands before she stood up and smashed it into the table, the rest of her posse scurrying away from the table before the pieces of glass could hit them. I didn't have to look to know that the whole cafeteria was watching this scene play out; it was only when I heard gasps coming from around us that I truly realized the extent of what had happened.
As the glass from my phone had bounced off the table, the sharp pieces flying in every direction, I had covered my face with my hands. So, when I slowly pried them away from my eyes, turning them around to identify where the stinging of my skin was coming from, my eyes fell on the three pieces of glass lodged into the back of my hands. It wasn't too deep, not enough to scar or cause real damage, but damn-- it burned like crazy. 
With tears in my eyes, I watched as Jasmine snickered, clearly unaffected by the fact that she had caused me physical harm; "We're ready to make your life a living hell," she hissed. "That'll show you. Fucking whore."
Something inside me broke. Usually, I would've fought back, I would've said something-- but I froze. Completely. I had never felt anything like this, the mix of both physical and mental pain turning me to stone.
Fuck. Was this truly how everyone saw me? Nothing more than one of Roman's countless whores?
I knew this would haunt me for the following weeks to come, and I couldn't fight the way my mind shut down. The need to get away overcame me; with shaky steps, I got up from my table, realizing I was about to leave school despite the day not being finished. 
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I had avoided Roman like the plague for the rest of the day-- I was almost as broken as my phone. I held the pieces in my hands under the dim lights of my desk in my room, nudging the glass around on the table. My phone had completely shattered, now just a heap of technology I held onto for the sake of nostalgia in a deep state of shock.
I kept glancing at my hands, my fingers ghosting over the three thin cuts that had parted my skin. They were thankfully not that grotesque to look at, and I was quite sure I could play it off as a scratch from a particularly large cat if anyone asked. 
Or... so I hoped. 
I wondered whether Letha knew about what had happened. Did she condone it? Had she been the one who ordered Jasmine and her gang to mess with me? Everything about this situation made my head spin-- Choosing Roman might've been the wrong decision. I kept thinking about an alternative universe in which I had never asked him to kiss me in the first place, or one where I had told Letha about my feelings for her cousin before it was too late.
It dawned on me that I had mostly likely made the wrong choice-- how was I supposed to deal with this?
Just as I was about to toss the remnants of my phone into the nearby bin, I heard a few knocks at my window which made me turn towards the sound. There he was, the last rays of today's sunlight making the bronze hues in his hair shine through; Roman tapped against the glass once more, eyes round with an emotion I couldn't piece together from afar.
I walked towards the window and opened it, leaning against the frame as I spoke; "What are you doing here?" My tone was sharper than expected-- seeing him didn't exactly make me feel any better.
"You haven't answered my messages," Roman didn't seem to be in a hurry about getting off my roof, making himself comfortable by sitting down by the window. "All day. Radio silence. I'm not really used to that from you, so... just checking to see whether you're having a stroke or something."
I did my best not to roll my eyes; "A stroke?"
"I don't know?" Roman shrugged, his green eyes never leaving mine. "What other explanation is there for a girl not answering me?"
I grimaced as I watched his expression. It was impossible to push down the intense feelings of frustration when I looked at him, all my love for him manifesting back to its usual hate-- I wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't met him. This was technically just as much his fault as mine. 
Why did he look so confused? It suddenly hit me that he was being dead serious; he didn't get it at all. He genuinely couldn't find another reason for my absence. "Oh," was what I managed to say, clearing my throat as I sat down on the window sill. "Have you not heard?" 
Roman blinked twice, clearly lost as he looked up at me. "Heard what?"
My eyes darted down to my hands, which I had covered with the sleeves of Roman's sweater without even thinking about it. "I thought everyone would be talking about it," I mumbled. "I guess that's a relief, then."
"What are you talking about?" The green of his eyes nearly swallowed me, and I found a tiny trace of genuine concern behind them, so miniscule I could barely notice it. "What happened?"
I wanted to disappear into a heap of nothing; it was so embarrassing that I had let this happen. My pride was definitely trying to choke the life out of me. "My phone broke," I breathed, automatically reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt out of nervous habit-- I felt my cheeks flush, nervous to be revisiting the moment that had haunted me all day.
Roman's brows furrowed, unsure how to react; "You made it sound like something really bad had happened. I could buy you a new one, no problem," He watched me pick at the sweatshirt, now reaching out for my hands to stop my destructive fidgeting.
I let out the breath I had been holding the second our fingers intertwined, feeling the roughness of his hands against mine. My eyes rested on the black hair ties he still wore around his wrist, a blooming warmth igniting in my chest and wading through all my anger. I was so swept up in the moment, comforted by the way he squeezed my hands twice, that I didn't catch the moment the sleeves of the sweater bunched up and revealed the cuts on the back of my hands. "You don't need to buy me a new phone, don't be ridiculous," I said, watching a single strand of his brown hair slowly fall over his eyes as he glanced down. "I'd feel bad--"
"What's this?" Roman's grip around my hands tightened, now bringing them up to his face. 
It felt as though my breath had gotten lodged in my throat as I watched Roman's widening green eyes scan the surface of my hands. His brows drew together once more, thumbs swiping over the unhealed wounds. The touch made me hiss, attempting to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "It's the neighbour's cat," I tried. "I bent down to pet it, and--"
"This is not from a cat," Roman's gaze darted up to meet mine, suddenly a lot more intense than usual. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"
I tried to squirm out of his hold once more; "It's not important, Roman... Forget it, please. Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"
"Tell me,"
"No, seriously, drop it! Can't you just go?!--"
Roman's grip around my hands tightened further, almost to the point of making me wince. "Tell me," His pupils widened at an eerie rate, transfixed on mine. It felt as though his words were echoing through my head, and it didn't take long before I suddenly felt as though my inner monologue froze over.
And before I knew it, my mouth had a mind of its own; "They broke my phone,"
"Who?"
I really, really tried to fight it. Getting Roman involved in this drama was certainly not ideal, and I did my best to push away the urge to tell him; why was it so strong, all of a sudden? It almost felt as though he was controlling my mind, but it was ridiculous to even think so-- that was obviously impossible. Right? 
I eventually got around to answering; "Jasmine," 
"... Who?" Roman was beginning to sound like a really confused owl.
"Jasmine," I echoed. "Letha's friend. She brought a few girls over to my table and smashed my phone. Called me a whore."
Roman was silent for a few seconds, his face going unnaturally blank. "These cuts are from your phone?"
"Yeah,"
"And she did it because you're with me?"
"... Yeah," Did he just insinuate that we were together? I held my breath, unsure why my mouth wasn't adhering to my orders-- I so desperately wanted to point it out, but I physically couldn't. What on earth was happening?
Roman hummed, his grip around my hands loosening. "What else did she say?"
I blinked several times in an attempt to get out of the trance-like state I found myself in, but nothing seemed to be working as long as Roman's gaze was locked on me. "She said she's gonna make my life a living hell," As I sniffled, I realized tears were pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, shaking my head to try to snap out of it once more. "I- It's fine, though." It dawned on me that the trick was to not look at him-- I finally started feeling like myself again. "I just need to talk to Letha and check out the options for a truce, or whatever."
As I dared to open my eyes, I watched his blank face. Something about the lack of reaction was unsettling, on the border of uncomfortable, and it almost made me want to squirm. It was in this silence that a thick, red drop of blood suddenly made its way down Roman's nose, and he didn't react when it met his lips. It was almost as though he had frozen to his place on my roof, and I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked.
My eyes widened, concern filling my body. "You're bleeding," I breathed, trying to get my hands out of his. "Let me get something for you, Roman, it's gonna run down to your shirt!--"
Abruptly, he got up with a quickness I hadn't seen in him before, still not saying a word. Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice it-- the hickey on the right side of his throat. One he wasn't even trying to cover up. Despite how much Roman kept denying wanting to be with me, here he was, getting up to do God knows what whilst quite literally baring my mark on his skin.
I watched him, my brows drawing together in complete and utter confusion. "Roman?" Calling out his name didn't seem to do anything; he let the stream of blood run down his chin, now dripping down onto his shirt. I could only look up at him, unsure why he was acting like this.
Finally, Roman spoke; "Living hell, you say?" His voice was low, threatening-- it was suddenly clear to me that he had gotten a very dark idea.
These sorts of proclamations coming from a guy who had an affinity for pricking girls with needles genuinely concerned me. I got up from the window sill, ready to climb out onto the roof to join him. "Come on, Roman, let's just talk!--"
It was as though he was on auto-control, rushing to the edge of the roof before turning around to climb down. My heart beat hard in my chest as I nearly lunged out of my window, hoping to reach him in time. "Hey, where are you going?!" 
I didn't make it-- Roman had already managed to land on the grass beneath him, his long limbs an apparent advantage, and he was now storming down my lawn towards his car. 
"Roman!" I yelled, crouching down on the edge of my roof; this was definitely not looking good. My mind kept racing as I gave up trying to catch up to him, burying my face in my hands. 
I was screwed. I was so screwed. 
(a/n: check out PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9 if you haven't!! thank you for reading, more to come!!<33)
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silent-stories · 20 days ago
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𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader
Summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.
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Noah had been texting you all morning, starting with the apologies the moment you woke up and while you were getting ready to go to work.
Noah♡: Fuck
Noah♡: I’m so sorry about last night
His messages came through fast after that, each one more panicked than the last, like he thought you might ignore him entirely or you could never forgive him.
Noah♡: I didn’t mean to fall asleep
Noah♡: I feel like such an ass
Noah♡: Actually, I am
Noah♡: Fuck
Noah♡: Please don’t be mad
He was clearly rattled. You thought he might feel a little guilty about missing dinner but his desperation to make things right surprised you.
Noah usually was the kind of person who could laugh things off and move on. But today, he seemed to be so terribly scared you might be mad at him.
You reassured him right away, telling him that it was fine, that you weren’t upset, but the texts kept coming.
Noah♡: I really wanted to see you
Noah♡: I feel like I screwed this up
Noah♡: I'm so sorry
The more he apologized, the more you started to realize there was something else underneath his words. It wasn’t just about last night, there was a fear there, something deeper. The more he texted, the more you started to piece it together: he wasn’t just scared of messing up the "date", he was scared of losing you.
And you knew that this behavior of his stemmed from the fact that a few years earlier, he had returned home to find it a bit too empty.
Maybe that’s why he was so afraid of screwing things up now: he didn’t want history to repeat itself.
Now, you stood behind the counter of the café, phone buzzing in your hand, trying to figure out how to get him to relax.
You: I’m really not mad
You typed for what felt like the tenth time. But it seemed that, no matter how much you reassured him, he didn’t seem to believe you. He was convinced that this one slip-up would be enough to drive you away. It made your heart ache a little, realizing just how much weight he was putting on this.
You: Everything's fine, I promise. I was just worried something bad happened.
You: I'm glad everything's fine. I'm not mad.
You: What about you come to my place for dinner tonight?
You: Just us and Luna this time.
No new texts appeared on the screen for a moment, then he answered.
Noah♡: Yeah, I'd like that.
Noah♡: We'd like that*
Noah♡: thank you
You: No need to thank me
You: I love you.
The answer this time, came really quickly.
Noah♡: I love you too.
That’s when the bell above the door chimed, and you looked up to see Jolly and Folio stroll in. You smiled, recognizing them immediately as they wandered over, glancing at the menu as if they hadn’t already memorized it.
Jolly caught your eye and grinned. “Hey, thought your favorite costumers would stop by for a caffeine fix,” he said, already pulling out his wallet.
"Hey." Folio waved at you with a small nod in agreement, scanning the pastry case like he hadn’t already tried everything in there.
"Sorry to disappoint you guys, my fave is Noah."
"He is not here now. You can stop lying." Folio laughed.
Soon, Folio and Jolly were sitting at the counter, the two of them quietly sipping your coffees.
Nick glanced at you over the rim of his cup, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You know,” he began, his voice casual, “we’re really glad Noah found you.”
You blinked in surprise, but before you could respond, Jolly chimed in, nodding. “Yeah, man. It’s been great seeing him this way. He’s
 different now. Definitely happier.”
You smiled softly, feeling warmth bloom in your chest at the thought. “Really?”
“Definitely,” Folio repeated, leaning back in his chair. “You know, after everything that happened with Luna’s mom, he just sort of
 I dont know, he blamed himself. He thought it was his fault she left. You are just doing good to him. He's happy now. He's happy when he's with you.”
Jolly nodded. “He felt like he failed. As a father, as a partner. And now... he's just happy."
You listened, realizing more and more how Noah must have felt when he thought you were mad at him.
Jolly took a slow sip of his coffee before setting the cup down with a thoughtful nod. “It’s been really cool to see. I mean, we’ve known Noah for years, and he’s always been the type to just keep going, no matter what’s happening in his life. But since you came around, it’s like he’s more at ease. You can tell he’s genuinely happy. And I know you are taking things slow and you have known him for like... a year? And he's still getting used to the idea that someone actually loves him and is not gonna leave him again. But he is happier now.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that, the thought of Noah feeling that way making your heart lift. “I guess I didn’t realize how much things had changed for him.”
Folio shrugged, his grin widening. “He’s not exactly the type to make a big deal out of it. But we can see it. The way he talks about you, or when he’s just hanging out with you and Luna. The man is just in love."
You nodded, your fingers tracing imaginary drawings on the counter. “I’m glad. I really care about him, and Luna.”
Folio smiled, giving you a knowing look. “We can tell. And honestly, it’s been good for him to have someone who gets that being a good dad is really important to him. You fit into their little universe in a way that just
 works.”
Jolly agreed, his tone easy and genuine. “Yeah, it’s like you’re part of the family now. Noah’s happy, Luna’s happy, and, well, we’re happy for him. For both of you.”
You couldn’t help but feel a little lighter at their words, the reassurance settling in. You hadn’t doubted how much Noah cared about you, but hearing from his closest friends made it feel more real, more solid.
“Thanks,” you said quietly, smiling at both of them. “That really means a lot.”
Folio waved it off with a grin. “Hey, no need to thank us. We’re just telling it like it is.”
The conversation shifted after that, naturally flowing into stories about the funny things Luna said recently and the band’s new ideas. The three of you laughed as you served a couple of costumers and they kept sipping their coffees, enjoying the calm of the morning.
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After many hours, you finished tidying up the cafĂ© as the last customer left. It was strange to think it had already been almost three years since the cafĂ© first opened. Every inch held a memory, from the faint coffee stains on the counter to the tiny plant you’d been struggling to keep alive since day one.
Grace grabbed her bag from behind the counter, giving you a quick, almost begrudging nod. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you replied, locking up as the two of you stepped outside. The crisp late afternoon air hit you, a refreshing change from the café’s warmth.
You both walked toward your cars in the dimly lit parking lot, and as you did, Grace suddenly spoke up. “Three years, huh? Hard to believe.”
You nodded, smiling a little. “I know. Feels like we should celebrate or something, right? Three years is a pretty big deal.”
She glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. “You really think people will care?”
“Sure, why not?” You shrugged, already imagining a little celebration. “We could do something small but nice. You know, like a free cookie with every order, or free candies, maybe put up some cute decorations to make it festive.”
Grace tilted her head, her mouth curving into a smirk. “I’ll admit, I’ve seen worse ideas. Might actually bring in some new people.”
You laughed softly, not entirely surprised by her pragmatic approach. “Well, I thought it could be nice to show some appreciation for the regulars too. They’re part of why this place has done so well.”
She crossed her arms, considering it. “Alright, free cookies and some decorations. But nothing too cheesy, okay? No bright streamers or those glitter confetti things that get everywhere.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Deal. I was thinking about simple things, maybe a few extra plants or flowers around.”
Grace nodded approvingly. “Sounds reasonable. Let’s go over ideas tomorrow, though, after the morning rush.”
You agreed, feeling happy at the idea of adding a little extra warmth to the café. This place had become a second home, and celebrating that felt right.
As you each unlocked your cars, Grace gave you a rare smile, albeit a small one. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yeah,” you replied, returning her smile. “See you, Grace.”
With one last wave, you climbed into your car, thinking that before deciding what to do for the café anniversary you wanted to get ready for a perfect dinner with Noah and Luna.
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That evening, in the kitchen, you prepped a simple but warm meal, setting the table with a couple of candles to make things feel a bit cozier - and because you always loved candles. You wanted everything to feel comfortable, something that would make Noah happy and put Luna at ease, being her first time at your house.
When you heard the soft knock at the door, you could already imagine Noah on the other side, probably looking a little nervous, one of his hands stuffed in his pockets, the other holding Luna's one, trying not to show just how much he had worried himself into knots all day as you knew he did.
Taking a quick breath, you opened the door to find Noah standing there with Luna next to him. She was clutching her little stuffed bunny, her eyes lighting up the second she saw you.
"Hi!" She waved at you, and you smiled.
“There they are,” you said softly, smiling as you stepped forward.
Noah’s eyes met yours, and he looked almost hesitant, as though he were still unsure if you were really okay with everything that had happened. Before he could say a word, you stepped closer, standing on your tiptoes and wrapping your arms around his neck in a warm, reassuring hug. He held on to you, his relief almost palpable as he relaxed against you. Leaning up, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
"Hey." He smiled.
“Hey. I know its been only two days but I missed you,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him.
He looked down at you, a small, relieved smile finally spreading across his face. “I missed you too. I’m sorry again, I really—”
You placed a finger over his lips. “Don't be stupid and stop apologizing. Come in.”
You stepped aside, holding the door open as they walked in, Luna looked around with curiosity, and she waved her plushie around as if introducing him to the house too.
After setting her down, Noah glanced around, still looking a little uncertain, but with each second, he seemed to relax more and more. The smell of dinner filled the room, and he raised his brows, sniffing the air with an appreciative grin. “Something smells amazing.”
“I tried my best,” you said, leading them both to the dining table where you’d set everything up with warm dishes and cozy candlelight.
Luna, always observant, tilted her head and pointed a tiny finger at the flickering candles. “Look, daddy, magic lights!”
Noah chuckled, a soft laugh you hadn’t heard in only a couple of days and you realized iu missed more than anything. He leaned down to her level, nodding. “Yeah, they are. Careful though, okay? We don’t want to get too close.”
She nodded, her eyes still on the candle.
The three of you settled at the table, and Noah helped Luna into her little chair beside him. As you began to serve the food, Noah glanced at you, his gaze filled with appreciation and something softer, deeper.
For a while, you just ate, comfortable silence settling between bites, the clinking of cutlery and Luna’s occasional little gasps of excitement over the meal filling the room.
At some point, Luna’s face lit up with excitement as she remembered something important. She turned to you, her eyes wide and sparkling.
“Guess what?” she said, bouncing a little in her chair.
“What?” you replied, grinning at her enthusiasm.
“We’re going to the zoo tomorrow! With everyone from class! Daddy says there’s gonna be giraffes and elephants and
” She paused for dramatic effect, leaning closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “And unicorns.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, glancing at Noah, who was stifling a smile himself. “Unicorns, huh?”
Luna nodded, her expression serious. “Yes! I’m gonna find them. They’re hiding, but I’ll see them for sure.”
“Well, then, I guess you’ll have to tell us all about it tomorrow,” you said, giving her an encouraging nod.
She nodded eagerly, taking a determined bite of her food, clearly already planning her adventure. Noah reached over, a warm smile on his face as he ruffled her hair gently.
As you all continued to eat, Noah glanced at you, his hand resting on yours. “I was thinking,” he began, giving you a soft smile. “Since I’ll be dropping Luna off early for her big zoo day, maybe I could pick you up and drive you to work? Stay a bit and grab something? If your coworker is not gonna kick me out.”
Your smile widened, warmth filling you as you met his eyes. “That sounds perfect. Thank you. And I'll protect you from Grace, don't worry.”
Noah laughed.
“Daddy always puts his music in the car!” Luna added, rolling her eyes a little.
You stifled a laugh, glancing at Noah with a playful smile. “Oh, I see, someone’s got a bit of an ego, huh?”
Noah chuckled, giving you a mock-offended look. “Hey! I'm just trying to raise her with the right music taste, thank you very much.”
You all laughed together, the table filled with easy warmth and conversation as Luna continued sharing all the animals she’d meet.
Noah caught your eye, his smile still lingering as he shook his head, clearly taken by his daughter’s antics. It was a simple moment, but it made everything feel
 right. Like this was exactly where you both were supposed to be.
After dinner, Luna clambered down from her chair and, wandered into the living room, where she promptly set herself up in front of the TV. She leaned back, her little legs crossed as you offered her the remote, and she started pressing buttons until her favorite cartoon appeared. Soon, her laughter and excited chatter filled the room as she became absorbed in her show, completely at home.
You started gathering the dishes, but Noah stood up, gently placing a hand over yours. “Hey, let me help.”
You gave him a soft smile, nodding as the two of you worked together. Once the dishes were done, you both found yourselves in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a quiet calm settling between you.
He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck with that same, slightly awkward expression he always wore when he was working up to saying something important. “I don’t think I can say it enough, but
 thank you. For tonight. And
 for not being mad.”
You shook your head, reaching up to brush a few stray locks away from his eyes. “Noah, stop it. For real. You don’t have to thank me. I understand. You are a dad, a singer, a songwriter and a boyfriend. And sometimes you are just tired. I understand. That doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere. You are great at all these things.”
His shoulders relaxed as he let out a soft breath, finally letting the guilt slip away. “I just
 I keep thinking that I’ll screw things up somehow. And I know I shouldn’t. But I do.”
“I know,” you replied softly, your fingers tracing light circles on his arm. “But I’m not going to leave over one missed date, okay? You’re stuck with me. And it was not even a date. Nick would have probably kept talking about the first time he went to the coffe shop and I poured a whole cup on him by accident.”
He chuckled, his gaze softening. “Good. Because I don’t want to mess this up. You mean
 you mean a lot to me.”
You stepped closer, slipping your arms around his waist as you looked up at him, your face inches from his. “I’m here, Noah. For you and for Luna. I’m not going anywhere.”
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You could feel his heart beating steadily under your cheek, his warmth seeping into you.
As the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other, Luna’s cheerful laugh drifted in from the living room, and Noah glanced in her direction, his eyes softening with the quiet pride he felt whenever he looked at her.
He smiled down at you, his voice low and filled with a quiet sincerity. “You know
 I like this. The three of us. Like now.”
You squeezed his hand, giving him a gentle smile. “Good. Because I like it too.”
The rest of the night passed in a haze of warmth and laughter. You joined Luna on the couch, letting her explain every plot twist of her cartoon to you with animated hand gestures and gleeful expressions. Noah sat beside you, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, his thumb gently brushing against it.
Eventually, Luna’s eyelids started to droop, and Noah carefully scooped her up, cradling her against his chest as she mumbled sleepy goodbyes to you. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, murmuring soothing words as she settled into his shoulder with a content sigh.
Before he left, he turned to you, his face illuminated by the dim hallway light. “Even if you said I didn't have to thank you...thank you.” he whispered.
You nodded, pressing one last soft kiss to his lips before he stepped out into the night, Luna sound asleep in his arms.
As you closed the door behind them, you felt a sense of warmth settle deep within you, a sense of home that lingered long after they had gone.
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The next morning, you waited by the door until you caught sight of Noah’s car pulling up in front of your place. The second you got in, he leaned over to give you a quick, gentle kiss, his eyes soft and warm, the early sunlight making the messy hair poking out from under the hood of his hoodie look even softer than usual.
"Good morning," he murmured with a smile.
"Morning," you replied, leaning in for one more kiss before he started the drive. You felt completely at ease, like the night before had cemented something new and wonderful between you.
“I wonder if Luna found the unicorns yet” you teased, breaking the comfortable silence in the car.
He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, definitely. She was up all night practicing her ‘unicorn call’ just in case she needed it today. I think half the house is covered in glitter now.”
“She's dedicated, I’ll give her that,” you laughed.
As Noah pulled into a parking spot near the cafĂ©, you noticed some activity across the street, where the old bookstore had been vacant for years. A couple of large moving trucks were parked out front, and people were carrying in boxes, furniture, and various pieces of equipment, and you couldn’t help but stare, wondering what might be going in there.
“Look at that,” Noah said, nodding toward the trucks as he put the car in park. “Guess someone finally decided to put that old place to use.”
“Yeah
 wonder what it’ll be,” you mused, squinting to try and catch a glimpse of something that would give you a clue.
“Another cafù. To give you competition.” he joked, raising an eyebrow with a grin.
You rolled your eyes. “It’s a pretty big space, maybe it’s a gym or something.”
“Oh, please. This area’s too small for another gym. Maybe
 a little art studio? Some kind of gallery, even?”
“Ooh, a gallery would be nice. You could go all broody, stare at abstract paintings, and pretend you totally understand what they mean,” you teased, nudging him.
He laughed, shaking his head. “Or, I could bring you along and make you explain the art to me. I’ll just stand there, nodding like I know what I’m talking about.”
“I’d pay to see that,” you replied, chuckling. “Though, I wouldn’t mind a new bookstore. I always liked the smell of all those old books in there.”
“Now that,” he nodded, “would be amazing. We could take Luna, let her pick out her own books.”
You could both easily imagine it: a cozy bookstore, shelves filled to the ceiling with everything from children’s books to novels. For a moment, you both stood there, imagining it.
Then, he glanced at you, a soft smile lingering on his face. “Whatever it is, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
With that, the two of you headed into the café. As you stepped inside, you flicked on the lights, taking in the familiar warmth of the place.
You moved behind the counter as you started getting things ready for the morning crowd. “So
 I was thinking about an idea for the café’s anniversary. It’s been three years already, and Grace kind of agreed to a little celebration.”
Noah leaned on the counter. “Yeah? What did you have in mind?”
“Well, something simple. I was thinking free cookies or little treats, some decorations, maybe some plants or flowers around the place to give it a warm touch.”
He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Sounds perfect, honestly. And if you need help with anything, I’ve got some stuff I could bring to add to the decorations. Old fairy lights, purple and pink, they were in my bedroom once, and some stuff we don’t use anymore.”
You perked up at that. “Really? That would be amazing. I think it’d add a lot. This place could use a little extra magic for the event.”
He smiled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Consider it done. I can bring them tomorrow, and we can figure out where to put everything.”
“Thank you,” you said softly.
He shrugged, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Anything for you. For this place too. It’s part of us, you know? It's where we met. If this place hadn't existed maybe we would never have met.”
You looked down, smiling softly as he held your hand, thinking about his words. “I don’t know about that,” you said, glancing back up at him. “Have you ever heard of the red string theory?”
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yeah. I haven't heard of it since I was a kid though.”
You nodded, leaning on the counter a little closer to him. “It's about people who are meant to meet—soulmates, if you want to call them that—that are connected by an invisible red string. No matter where they are in the world, that string brings them together eventually. No matter what happens.”
Noah’s expression softened as he listened, his thumb absently tracing gentle circles on your hand. “So
 you’re saying that even if this cafĂ© wasn’t here, or if we’d missed each other somehow, we’d still end up meeting? Just
 somewhere else?”
You nodded. “Exactly. Maybe it would’ve been a random bookshop, or in line at the grocery store, or at one of Luna’s school events. But, one way or another, we would’ve crossed paths.”
He smiled, a warm, almost awed look in his eyes. “Mh. I like that."
“I like that too,” you said softly. “And I think it’s true, you know? Like, we may not see it, but I believe there are little connections and coincidences all around us, nudging us in certain directions, bringing us closer to the people we’re supposed to know.”
Noah glanced around the cafĂ©, as if seeing it with fresh eyes. “So, if it wasn’t this place, it would have been somewhere else
 but, somehow, we’d find each other. I like that,” he repeated, his voice a gentle murmur, "I like thinking I would have found you anyway. And you would have found me."
Your smiled at that, nodding.
Then, you started getting ready for the day, giving Noah his usual tea and changing the little sign on the door from "closed" to "open".
A few people came in as the morning rolled on, and every now and then, someone would recognize Noah, offering a friendly wave or a shy smile. He didn’t mind, casually greeting a couple of fans and even pausing to take a quick photo with one, all while chatting with you as you worked.
The thing you were sure of was that the days at work you spent with Noah sitting at the counter next to you were always the best.
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sugdenlovesdingle · 1 month ago
Text
What if everything hadn't been wrapped up in 42 minutes and the 118 did get closed down?
slightly spoiler-y for 8x04, now also on AO3
---
"They're shutting us down. They're actually shutting us down." Buck ranted as he paced up and down Tommy's livingroom. "Actually, no, they have shut us down. As of today the 118 is no more!"
"So you've said." Tommy sighed. Evan had been talking and ranting almost non stop since he'd walked through the door of his house an hour ago, and while Tommy had been happy to see him, he quickly realised his boyfriend wasn't in the mood for romance.
"I'm sorry, I know I'm a lot... but... I've never worked at a different house than the 118. Working under a different captain than Bobby is bad enough, but at least I always had the others. Now I won't even have that."
"Don't apologise. I get it, I really do." Tommy stood up and put his hands on Buck's hips. "But didn't you say Hen is working on something?"
"Yes! And she won't tell me what! And look what happened! We're all going to be moved to other houses and Bobby will still be on that tv show!"
"Hmm... but don't you think they all want the band back together as much as you do?"
"Well... yes... but I wish they'd tell me what they're doing! I could help." Buck sighed in defeat.
"I know, but I think they want to keep everything as on the down low as possible. The less people know what they're doing, the less chance there is of things not working out or someone getting in trouble."
Buck groaned and let himself slump against his boyfriend's 6'2" frame.
"I hate it when you go all reasonable on me."
Tommy chuckled and dropped a kiss in his hair.
"A few weeks at a different house might not be so bad. I mean... it did me the world of good."
"So not the same thing." Buck muttered, face still buried in Tommy's shoulder.
"When do you find out what house you'll be at?"
"Dunno." Buck mumbled. "We just came off a 48 so we're supposed to have a couple of days off... but... they just said we'd get an email telling us what house to report to and when."
"You might end up at the 122 with Sal." Tommy mused.
"Oh yeah that would be great. Working under my boyfriend's best friend." Buck said sarcastically.
"At least you know him." Tommy reminded him. "And he's a good firefighter and a good captain. If Bobby hadn't shown up, I think the 118 would now be Captain Deluca's house."
"He'd give me shit just because he could. He'd be worse than Gerrard because he's your friend and we're together."
Tommy knew he was right, but also didn't want to admit it and spend the rest of the night talking about work.
"Are you hungry? I got Chinese take out last night and there is still plenty left. I'll heat some up for you."
"In a minute." Buck said, wrapping his arms around Tommy a little tighter, keeping him exactly where he was. "Just want to stay like this for a while."
"Maybe we should sit down. We'll be more comfortable."
"Nope. I'm good." Buck told him and somehow stepped even closer until they were practically one.
"Uhm babe... I think you're buzzing."
"Baby no more bee puns please. I'm tired. It's been a hell of a day." Buck groaned. He was practically falling asleep on his feet with just Tommy's arms holding him upright.
"No, babe, you're actually buzzing. I think it's your phone?"
"What? Oh! Oh shit." Buck scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket. "Shit shit shit it's LAFD HQ." he said after glancing at the screen. "Hello? Yes this is Evan Buckley."
Tommy gave him a questioning look when almost every emotion possible moved across his boyfriend's face in a matter of seconds.
"A-are you sure about that?" Buck asked and paused to listen. "No, no, no problem. I'll uh... yes... I'll uhm... wait for the email for the details then. Yes... thank you. Bye."
"What? Don't tell me they're actually transferring you to Sal's house?"
"No... Not Sal's... I uh... have to report for duty on Friday... at the 217."
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lizzieolseniskinda · 2 months ago
Text
LOGAN HOWLETT - all too well
x FEM!reader (POC!friendly) - MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: you & logan were a thing, but in the end it all fell down
WORD COUNT: 3462 (excl. song lyrics)
GENRE: angsty
CONTENT WARNING: english is not my first language, lowercase ahead, this is my third story soooo..., ik ppl say that the scarf is a metaphor, but here it's just a scarf <3
italics is a flashback <3
listen to 'all too well' (five minute version) from taylor swift for better experience <3.
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‘i walked through the door with you
the air was cold
but something about it felt like home somehow
and i, left my scarf there at your sister's house
and you've still got it in your drawer even now'
the autumn cold bit at my cheeks as i stepped out of the car. i looked at the mansion before me, the x-mansion. i walked towards the tall doors where logan was standing. he took my bags as i walked through the doors. the old wood creaked slightly under our weight.
almost immediately i felt the warmth of the school. i took off my scarf with my gloves and jacket, it smelt like hot chocolate in here. reminding me of the times i used to spend christmas with my parents waiting on my chocolate milk my mom used to make.
professor x welcomed me with a charming smile. his school was spacious yet cozy, every nook and wall filled with complementing wooden furniture. i placed my bags by the stairs as charles led us into the living area. the room smelled even more of cinnamon and chocolate.
time flew by in that living room, sounds of loud laughter and chatting filled the whole massion. it was times like these i appreciated the most. students came wandering inside and outside, either sitting with us for a while or getting some snacks for their small gathering. charles told me that it wasn't always he let teens walk freely after curfew, but when it's the day before Christmas, who is he to say no to them?
i leaned my head against logan's shoulder, my stomach feeling content and full after consuming one too many cookies and chocolates. he placed a hand on my leg and asked if i wanted to go upstairs to rest, and i nodded in reply. so, we excused ourselves. teens were scattered around the hallways as the both of us walked towards my bags.
we reached the top of the staircase, and logan led me into his room. once we reached his room, we sat on his bed, and i opened my bag. i fished out my pajamas and turned around to change. after completely changing, logan appeared behind me, wrapping his arms around me and placing soft, gentle kisses on my shoulder.
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'oh, your sweet disposition
and my wide-eyed gaze
we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate
autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place
and i can picture it after all these days'
the trees blurred by as logan sped down the twisting country roads, the wold a swirl of amber, gold, and russet tones. my window was down, letting the crisp autumn air rush in, my hair was in braids so that no small strands would fly in my face. logan was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping along to the rhythm of the music. i wasn't even sure if he knew where we were headed; we'd veered off course miles back, but neither of us seemed to mind.
"do you even know where we are?" i asked with a grin, my voice raised over the music.
he glanced over at me, his eyes had a sparkle i hadn't seen in so long, but had become so used to. "not a clue, but does it really matter?" he replied with a light hearted laugh.
i shook my head, it didn't. nothing mattered in that moment except the rush of the open road and the way we were singing along to the songs. his hoarse but sweet, wild but calm voice carried the melody effortlessly, even when my voice faltered.
leaves were spiralling down in slow, soothing cascades, covering the road in a blanket of color.
we didn't talk much during that drive, just let the music carry us further, winding through the countryside as if we could do this forever and never run out of road or gas. i could still picture that moment now, after all this time - the way he hummed along, the way the leaves fell like pieces of a story we didn't fully understand yet. but thinking back, it didn't matter, it used to feel right.
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'and i know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more
and i might be okay but I'm not fine at all'
it had been months since i had last seen him. people assure me that time heals, that i'll be okay eventually, and maybe i will be. every day is the same; i get up, go to work, laugh when expected, smile when someone asks about my well-being. but it's the quiet moments of silence that the reality intrudes, like a wave crashing down upon me.
the happy feeling that once filled this place - has vanished, vanished for a while now. yet, there are moments, brief fragments of days, when i can still feel it - like a phantom limb. i find myself searching for you in a crowded place, then the realization dawns on me - he's not here anymore. and there's a big chance he won't be coming back to me.
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'cause there we are again on that little town street
you almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me
wind in my hair, i was there
i remember it all too well'
it was a late afternoon, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in a tender, golden light. the small town we'd stumbled upon felt like a picture-perfect scene from a postcard - quiet streets lined with old brick buildings, trees bending overhead, their leaves tinged with the fading colors of autumn. we had been driving for hours, with no real destination in mind, again.
he was driving with one hand resting casually on the wheel. his gaze would flick between the road and me. every time his eyes met mine, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and i couldn't help but smile back, even though i tried act like i didn't notice. the windows were down, allowing the wind to dance through his hair.
the car slowed as we came up to a small intersection, the kind that didn't seem to need stoplights because the whole town was quiet - almost no cars to be seen. a red light was hanging above the street. it was as if his foot hesitated on the brake as his gaze lingered on me for just a second too long. i stretched out my arm towards his face, and redirected his gaze. the way he looked at me, almost took my breath away. the way he looked at me like there was no one else in the world, made me wonder what went wrong.
"you almost ran it, logan," i scolded him, half-laughing, as the car jolted to a stop just in time.
he chuckled lightheartedly in response, his voice carrying a sound that i cherished so much. "my bad, bub." his eyes twinkled in the red light.
i rolled my eyes, my heartbeat quickened, and i couldn't help the warmth that spread through me. the traffic signal changed to green, and he drove through the intersection. the town went by in slow motion, passing an old diner, a corner bookstore, and a nearby park where a few kids were running through the puddles and leaves, their laughter echoing slightly down the streets.
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'photo album on the counter
your cheeks were turning red
you used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed
and your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee-ball team
you told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me'
a photo album was lying between us, logan was seated next to me in my classroom. i was trying to ignore how my past was so different from his, i had a better childhood than most of people here. logan's memories were scattered, and most of them too painful to keep.
logan let out a breath, "i don't have much to show from my past." his voice was low, there was a certain tension in the room, but not a negative one. "i don't have any pictures, or any family stories."
unconsciously, i started leaning in, he never liked to talk about his past. he kept it buried most of the time, but it felt different this time. his gaze flicked to the photo album for a moment, then back to me.
"i wasn't born as logan," he started, his jaw was clenching as he closed his mouth. "my real name was james, back in the 1800s," he explained. i tried not to gasp, my boyfriend was almost 200 years old. "i grew up in canada, in a rich family. my father wasn't really my father, though," his voice dropped a bit. "i was just a kid when it happened. my actual father showed up, and it got violent, i killed him," he looked at me. "i didn't mean to, but after all that happened, i didn't know what to do. i was so lost."
"i've fought wars, and then i ended up in an experiment from the government. they took away what little i had left, wiped my memories, turned me into a weapon. i was barely human." he clenched his fists, knuckles whitening. "i spent years to figure it out, but never got anywhere close."
logan looked up, his eyes meeting with mine. "i didn't think i had a future, not until you. i don't know if i can ever escape what i was,' logan whispered hoarsely. "but when i think of the future, it's not as dark as it used to be, not when you're in it."
i swallowed hard, the weight of what he was saying pressed down on me. he wasn't talking about the past anymore - he was offering a piece of himself, a fragile piece.
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'and i know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do
and i forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to'
the mansion was buzzing with students talking and wandering around. i stood outside jean's classroom, watching through the gap of the door as he spoke with her. jean. the way he softened his voice when he talked to her, the way he stood just a little bit closer, like he was pulled towards her without even realizing it.
he used to look at me like that.
but it felt as if he was miles away, even though i was only a few steps from him. by now i should've gotten used to it, the way he kept slipping through my fingers, always just out of reach. but everytime it hit harder, that feeling of being so close and yet so far.
i knew that when i was with him, it was something real. we had something real. the late night talkes, our laughter echoing the hallways of the mansion. the way he used to look at me, with that glimmer in his eyes that made me believe we were something bigger. but then he got to know everyone better, and so she came along. jean, with her fiery red hair and pretty face, and suddenly, i wasn't enough for him.
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'cause there we are again in the middle of the night
we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light
down the stairs, i was there
i remember it all too well, yeah'
it was quite late - well past midnight - the mansion was quiet. the only light came from the soft, yellow glow of the refrigerator door we'd left open, casting shadows that extended across the kitchen floor and island. i couldn't remember what had brought us down there in the first place. perhaps it was his restless energy, or maybe it was mine. we found ourselves standing in the refrigerator light, laughing over some long-forgotten jest, our bare feet resting against the cool tiles.
he was leaning against the counter, arm crossed, a crooked smile on his face, gracing his features. it was a rare thing, that smile - so much gentler than the stern and hardened expression he typically wore in public.
out of the blue, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him, catching me off guard. i smiled softly, stumbling slightly into his chest as he started to spin me around. "what are you doing?" i asked, words bubbling out with a grin i couldn't keep off my face.
"dancin'," he smirked, his voice low and gravelly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
we swayed in the soft light, the gentle hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the room. our feet were moving in perfect sync with each other, our footsteps barely audible against the smooth surface of the kitchen floor. the world outside didn't matter in moments like these, it was just us, lost in something that felt so small yet so infinite at the same time.
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'and maybe we got lost in translation
maybe i asked for too much
But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up
Running scared, I was there
I remember it all too well'
the moonlight streamed through the large windows in the hallway, casting long, eerie shadows that danced menacingly across the floor. the tension between logan and i had been building up for weeks, months even.
after what felt like an eternity, he finally walked in. his face was hard, guarded, a familiar look he always wore when he didn't want to deal with something. i could feel anger rising in my chest, yet underneath it all, there was another feeling, raw and painful.
"what's going on between you and jean?" my voice sharper than i meant it to be. he stopped in his tracks, eyebrows knitting together. "what're you talkin' about?" he said, his tone flat, evasive.
i sighed and pinched my nose, "you know what i'm talking about logan." he shook his head, denying everything i was saying.
"i see the way you look at her. like she's the only person in the room, the world even."
his fists clenched at his side, but he stayed silent. that only made it worse, made the hurt cut deeper. i could feel the tears threatening to fall down any minute, but i swallowed them down, refusing to show how much it hurt.
"maybe it was stupid to think we could ever be something more, that we might've had a chance. but, logan, whatever we had - it was real, good," my voice wavered. "you ruined it."
logan's eyes flicked to the floor, his jaw tight. "i didn't mean for it to happen like this, it's just you and me, remember?" he muttered, his voice was low, as if he was struggling to find the right words. "jean...she.. it's complicated, i didn't-"
"didn't what?" i interrupted, stepping closer towards him. "didn't mean to get lost in her? didn't mean to make me feel like i was never enough? ignoring me, the moment she stepped in the room?" i scoffed.
"i was there for you. i was there when you told me everything, when you let me in, and now you're throwing it all away for someone who doesn't even see you the way i do. she's with scott, logan!"
his eyes finally met mine, and for a split second, i though i saw something - a hint of regret, of the man i knew. but then his walls came back up, and he stepped away, creating a distance once again.
"i didn't tear it apart!" he growled, frustration simmering beneath his words. "it's not that simple."
"but it is," i whispered, my voice barely audible now. "it is simple, logan. you just don't want to see it."
once again, we stood there, inches apart but worlds away from each other. silence becoming suffocating, with all the thing that were said and unsaid, all the pieces of us that had shattered somewhere along the way. i wanted to reach out, but i couldn't, he was already gone.
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'and you call me up again just to break me like a promise
so casually cruel in the name of being honest
i'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here
'cause i remember it all, all, all
too well'
it was cold and raining when i heard the phone ring - of course it was. the kind of rain that soaked through your clothes and settled deep into your skin. i sat on the edge of my couch, staring at the phone that hung on my wall, ringing. my stomach twisted in a familiar, painful knot. i knew that answering the phone would only hurt me even more, but i became so addicted to his voice, i couldn't stay away.
"logan," i said, keeping my voice firm and steady.
there was a pause on logan's end, i could hear his breath, heavy and uneven. my heart pounded in my chest, a small flicker of hope sparking against my better judgement.
“I wanted to talk,” logan said, his voice rough, strained. “About everything.” i let out a breath i was holding, letting his words sink in and physically melt from the sound of his voice.
my spine straightened, and that flicker of hope i'd been foolish enough to feel quickly died. a rustling sound came through from the other end. scott's voice came through the line, clear and hard.
"you need to stay away from jean," scott said without preamble, his tony cold. i shook my head, i did not need to hear this. this just made me question the fact that logan was still spending time with jean even more.
"she's not yours to run to whenever you feel like messing with someone's head, you've done enough damage."
i sighed, gripping the telephone tighter. i could hear logan protesting, but scott barely gave him a chance to talk. "and while you're at it, stay away from her too." scott's words hit like a slap to logan's face. "wh-"
"you know exactly who i'm talking about. you keep calling her, stringing her along whenever you can't figure out what you want, and i'm done watching from the sidelines. you don't get to hurt her anymore. so if you know what's good for you, you'll leave her alone," scott's voice was scarily calm.
i swallowed hard, i felt like i shouldn't be listening to this. scott's voice dropped lower, "and if you ever cared about her - about either of them - you won't call her again. don't show up. don't send a message. just let her be, logan." there was a long pause, and for a moment, i thought he'd hung up. "because if you keep calling her just to break her all over again, i'll make sure you never get the chance to do it again." i was surprised scott would talk for me like that. i never was really close with him.
"give me the phone, logan," and the line went dead.
i stood there, phone in my hand, i wanted to scream, cry, throw something, maybe even throw up. but i didn't, i just hung up the phone again and walked away.
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'time won't fly, it's like i'm paralyzed by it,
i'd like to be my old self again.
but I'm still trying to find it.
after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own.
now you mail back my things and i walk home alone,
but you keep my old scarf from that very first week.
'cause it reminds you of innocence,
and it smells like me.
you can't get rid of it,
'cause you remember it all too well, yeah'
it was a week that seemed to stretch on forever, time moving as slow as it could. i stood in my small home, staring at the box storm brought me that came from logan. it sat on the kitchen table. i already knew the contents of the box, my things, probably stuff i gave logan as well that he wouldn't want to keep anymore.
i opened the box, a couple of shirts, an old book i'd left in his room, little reminders of the nights we'd spend together. at the bottom of the box i found the scarf i'd wore when i first came to the mansion.
i held it up close, the soft fabric taking me back to that one autumn two years ago. back when it felt like we had all the time in the world.
but time made it so hard to forget. i'd tried so hard to go back to the person i used to be, before i met him - to the person who didn't get so wrapped up in boys.
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'cause there we are again when i loved you so,
back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known.
it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'
i remember it was a lazy summer afternoon when the air was thick with warmth and the world felt content. we were lying on the grass near the lake behind the mansion, the sun casted a golden light.
logan has his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky, while i laid next to him, tracing invisible shapes in the clouds with my mind. i turned my head towards him.
"so, what do you want to do this summer?" i said with a small smile, my fingers playing with the blanket we put down on the grass. "what would you do if we could just... take off for a bit?"
logan tilted his head towards me, "summer?" he chuckled softly. "i don't really think that far ahead."
i nudged him with my elbow, "come on, logan. dream a little, where would you go?"
he sighed, glancing at the sky. "somewhere quiet," he said after a moment. "someplace where there's nothing but trees and mountains. no noise, no people."
i nodded in agreement. "i could get behind that idea, we could find a cabin somewhere, spend our days walking around or sitting by a fire at night."
"yeah," he mumbled. "maybe get off the grid for a while, forget about everything. i watched him, feeling the what the words settled between us like a promise.
“mhm,” you agreed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “maybe get off the grid for a while. forget about everything.”
"i've never done that before," he said. "let myself think about things like that."
i looked over at him, "what do you mean?"
"something good," he replied, his gaze still fixed on the sky. "something that doesn't end in loss or running."
"you don't have to run anymore, logan," i said softly. "we could make those plans real. it would be just you and me."
he didn't respond right away, but i could see how his jaw clenched slightly. "it's just you and me," logan nodded.
i laid back down, my head resting against the grass. i closed my eyes, the warmth of the setting sun on my face.
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'wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all.
down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all.
it was rare, i was there, i remember it all too well.'
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