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fishhateme · 2 days ago

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so... LinkedIn au part four, anyone?

Listen. LISTEN. I know it's been like a month. But last week was the ao3 fic, so I'm making good on my promise and finally, finally continuing this au - rest assured, there will be no more longer breaks, we'll do biweekly updates now. Technically, this was supposed to come out on Thursday, but I was genuinely creatively blocked. Anyways, hope you like it! if you need to catch up, go read part 3!

Max wasn’t an expert on coffee, not really, but he’d wager the espresso he was drinking right now had been burned, watered down with tap water, covered up with sugary syrups he couldn’t name if he wanted to, and then topped off with the cheapest milk known to man.

Ah, the beauty of a college campus Starbucks.

Besides him, Daniel was drinking a chai latte (“I’m actually not supposed to be drinking this, I’m lactose intolerant, but YOLO, am I right? George, do people still say YOLO?”) and George, the TA, was typing furiously on his cellphone, his caramel macchiato long forgotten beside him (“Are you flirting with your boyfriend again, Georgie? Your boyf?” “Erm- Alex is just a friend, Professor Ricciardo. And nobody says boyf”).

In any case, Daniel’s eyes were now focused on Max as the Dutchman tried not to grimace anytime he took a gulp out of his drink, thinking that it was surely unfair that this man had such naturally long eyelashes and puppy-dog eyes.

“What about you, Max? Got any boyf?” Daniel asked, voice mocking as he said that just to annoy George, obviously.

Obviously.

That was the only reason he was asking about Max’s relationship status.

Even though the espresso he was drinking was hell on Earth, Max forced himself to take another gulp and swallow it, if only to buy himself some time. He thought about that Spanish car designer with the stupid mansion in Madrid he’d invited Lando to for the weekend, because if a God existed he surely wanted to show Max that good things happened to good people, just not him.

Unlike his friend, Max was meant to squirm under hot, middle aged men’s questioning gazes.

Actually not the worst fate in the world, now that he thought about it.

“Eeeeh” he said, noncommittal. “No, no, uh, boyfriend”

If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve said that Daniel smiled at that, but his plush lips were quickly covered by the plastic lid of his drink. “Ah, a pity, such a handsome man all alone. I’m single, too, if it helps you feel better. I’m All By Myself, like my friend Celine.” he stared at Max, the corner of his mouth quivering, clearly searching for some recognition that never came, “You uh, you know Celine, actually?”

Max frowned, not sure if he should focus on the fact that he’d just been called handsome or on the Aussie’s question, suddenly feeling socially inept. He knew a lot of people in the physics world - Jos had made sure of it, had taken him to see particle accelerators instead of playing football when he was a kid - but not so many in academia, not really. “Uh… Celine?”

George gave him a weird look, almost pitying, but Daniel was nodding along, a thrilled gleam in his eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah, Celine! She, uh, awesome lady, gosh, she did a lot of work in the, uh, green sector…” he turned to George, a gleam in his eyes, “George, Tell Him”

George rolled his eyes, sighing, but he set his phone on the table as he reluctantly smiled at his professor, seeming mildly amused. “Oh yeah, I remember Celine, It’s All Coming Back To Me Now”

Daniel almost jumped from delight at that, squirming in his seat like a child on a sugar rush, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he looked back at Max, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, uh, I don’t know if you remember, Max, she was really big in the green energy space, uh, she invented this whole new type of power plant… it was very, uh, revolutionary. She discovered, um, a new type of power” he said, his voice jumping an octave at his last words, his entire body language jumpy as if he couldn’t wait for something.

Max blinked, feeling like he’d missed half of the conversation, lost, suddenly back to being in the backseat of his dad’s car after another failed Physics Olympiad.

Was this Celine woman important? Was he forgetting, like, another one of Marie Curie’s daughters and they were laughing at his lack of physics knowledge? Had Daniel read his old fluid dynamics papers and expected a scholarly genius, only to be disappointed? Was he going to tell everyone he knew that the old prodigy of aerodynamic engineering was actually a fraud who hadn’t even designed a successful new aircraft in almost a year now? Was this all a big joke, and he was the punchline?

“She discovered The Power Of Love!” Daniel cut in, laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair, tears in his eyes as he cackled.

Unbeknownst to him, he'd said something so odd and utterly unfunny he'd completely snapped Max out of his spiral.

Huh, that's certainly a new way of getting back to the present.

Other patrons at the Starbucks stared, but at least one or two recognized Daniel by his honking laugh, waving hi at their professor, evidently somewhat fond of his antics.

Max felt half confused and half embarrassed, and he let out a little chuckle out of politeness, although he was mostly starting to get irritated by… whatever this was. He looked at George, feeling lost, and the TA laughed as well, clearly a little in love with Daniel too because he seemed far too charmed by the older man’s shenanigans. At Max’s lost look, though, he clearly took pity on him, because he stirred the caramel macchiato pensively before finally giving in.

“Celine Dion, Max” George explained, whilst Daniel was too busy laughing his ass off.

Max blinked once, then twice, feeling stupid. This wasn’t a… physics thing, was it? It wasn’t the type of get together where three academics tried to surpass each other’s encyclopedic knowledge of increasingly obscure subjects, it was just… three guys in a Starbucks.

Okay. Cool. Chill. Max could do that. Totally.

“Oh” he said, lamely.

Daniel was so delighted he was kicking his feet by now, wiping off his tears with a cheap napkin. “Ah, mate, you should’ve seen your face…” he sniffled, looking like a kid on Christmas as he beamed at Max, not even remotely ashamed. “Sorry, uh, I promise I don’t do that often. Must be the caffeine in my system”

“Yes, you do. And you’re drinking tea” George piped in, his British accent barely disguising his rudeness, but Max and Daniel were too busy making lovey dovey eyes at each other to really pay attention to his words.

What a weird fucking dude, Max thought, breathing slowly as he allowed himself a real smile.

If possible, Daniel smiled even wider, as if in reflex.

Okay, yeah, I wanna fuck him.

They ended up spending over an hour at the Starbucks, mainly because Daniel had gotten it into his head that his first-year students should computationally model the hypersonic aerodynamics of a cow for 20% of their grade, and now he was in a bit of a pickle since he was expecting at least one of his eighty or so students to adequately assume the cow would fucking die, and none of them had gotten it right.

George, exasperated, was already emailing one of Daniel’s faculty members, the Seb guy, asking how they could delete a graded assignment from the applied physics department’s digital database before the faculty head noticed.

Meanwhile, Daniel was bent over the table, sipping his third venti chai latte, clearly on a little bit of a sugar rush as he covered his face with his hands, “I just don’t get why they didn’t tell me to fuck off! They should’ve told me to fuck off, right? I mean- how many days did they even spend on this?! They put the- they put the fucking cow in Mach 5 velocity, did nobody think about the poor animal?!”

Max was just thankful he’d never had to study under Daniel, really. Not only would it have been a massive obstacle to his accelerated course of studies, which his father had personally designed, it would’ve also made him want to stay and have class with his peers, which would’ve been hugely detrimental to his carefully timed life plan.

They wrapped up the coffee date (was it a date when you brought along your TA and only talked about work? Max should really just swallow his pride, reinstall Grindr and be done with it) after Daniel texted a friend of his about animal cruelty and sticking bulldogs in wind tunnels or something. Max just hoped it wasn’t the bulldog guy from the convention.

It probably was, wasn’t it?

George had long since headed to the dorms, arguing weakly about homework, which his Aussie boss clearly didn’t buy for a second, but had still allowed.

As he took him to his car, Daniel smiled at Max, sweet like honey. His tan skin was glowy in the golden light of the sunset, and he almost looked regal, like a statue of a long forgotten Greek god.

The college parking lot was silent and deserted, at this time of day. Above them, the clouds shone a mesmerizing mix of pink and orange hues.

“I had a lot of fun today,” Daniel said, his voice quiet like he was afraid to ruin the moment. “Thanks for coming by. I know it’s not the most, uh… exciting, compared to your big-boy labs and, like- fancy computing systems and everything, but… y’know”

Max nodded along, eyes wide. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, whatever this was. He wondered if Daniel’s lips tasted sweet with a hint of chai tea, tried to imagine how the spiciness of the black pepper would feel on his tongue.

“I had a lot of fun, too. It was nice to get shown around. I never got the, er, proper college experience. So it was of course lovely to join you, Daniel” Max responded, surprising himself when he realized he had actually had fun, even though it had been, objectively, a waste of his time.

He could waste time, and be cool and laid back, and have people know his name and order in a coffee shop, and memorize Celine Dion songs to make shitty jokes.

He could, truly.

Let me show you I could, he wanted to say, but the words died on his lips.

Daniel stared, still, uncharacteristically quiet.

He was awfully close, Max realized.

The Aussie cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he didn’t take a step back. Max could feel his breath ghosting his lips. He must’ve looked pathetic, now, pupils blown wide and cheeks burning crimson for a man he hadn’t even touched.

Daniel seemed to finally get the memo, letting his eyes drift shut as he leaned in for a kiss, a soft peck of the lips with barely any tongue, tentative and unsure. Chaste, almost - silly for men their age.

Max sighed deeply through his nose, taking a step forward, wanting to be impossibly closer to Daniel, to press their bodies closer together, closer, closer, closer.

But Daniel pulled back, his warm hands caressing his shoulders, keeping him in place as he smiled softly. “Drive safe, Max”

And Max, maddened with the burning need for more, couldn’t do much more than nod, watching as he walked away.

#daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #maxiel #my fic #my writing #linkedin influencer!au #featuring tired ta george #oh wait i forgor 💀#george russell #this au is BACK #but also next week is gonna be a looooong yummy chapter on my daniel killing himself ao3 fic i'd go check that out #damn i really have to find a better name for that au don't i #i have an actual name for that other au but i cant say it without spoiling literally the last chapter aaaaah #anyways enjoy this piece of 'just get something on the page' quality writing #yours truly #fish #Also how many of you can tell im not a stem girlie just by the semi believable physics talk 😭

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waywardstation · 2 months ago

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I'm too much of a nervous bean to reach out not anonymously. But I wanted to say that your stories are my favorite iterations of Ingo and Akari and are what sucked me fully into submas. So thankyou and I look forward to seeing everything you come out with 😊

AHH thank you kind anon!!! ;w; <3 that means so much to me!! I’m also looking forward to getting more out!! I have so much I want to get out. I realize most of my writings that have most solidified how I currently write their dynamics are still not out yet. I have so much to get out and the most important parts of them I realize still are not public, so people can’t see the characters how I currently headcanon them.

I haven’t even posted anything yet that sets up the AU I’ve developed around them. It’s called Savepoint AU and it’s been in my head since 2023, regarding the tags I left in this post.

It’s very important to the narrative leading up to everything in I Won’t leave You Behind, but I feel I cannot post about it until I get Rain Check and its accompanying sequel Entropy Syndrome out. One group of people knows a little about it and has seen art related to it but that’s it haha.

ANYWAYS these are where Ingo and Akari’s dynamics really shine and I am hoping I can pull it together enough soon to be satisfied with the smaller details and get it out. I don’t want to rush it or I know it’ll bug me forever, as I feel that way about some stuff in HFBE haha. (DW I will fix these eventually)

Once again thank you anon!!! I’m so happy you like my work specifically, and I’m looking forward to getting more out!

#wayward’s asks #fun fact before I called it savepoint AU I called it Cloudyskye AU in my head as a placeholder #because so many songs from the artist acloudyskye fit the narrative and Ingo and Akari’s arcs.#all the songs are absolute BANGERS but many of their songs fit #specifically the songs Spill. Ditch. The Deep Ends. Thief. Curses.#and Relay. the artist just makes lots of songs regarding the same general themes and these lyrics happen to fit my narratives very well #apologies I’ve meant to get more out and I kept saying I will #but my cold relapsed this week and I’ve been battling brain fog again #it’s driving me up a wall reading my work and going ‘I could write this so much better’ but not having enough clarity to know how to #just drawing blanks and constantly going ‘there HAS to be a word to describe specifically this’ and knowing there is but not finding it #no matter how specific I make my searches for them online #I know it’s my job keeping me sick I’m working on the cold nights rn and it’s not good #it takes the rest of the week to feel better and when I’m almost good again I go back to work and have to do it again and it flares up #it’s a bad cycle and the same one that kept me sick last year idk what to do about it #if I’m not gonna feel better soon I’m gonna need to kill my inner perfectionist #and pet health issues getting in the way too as well as family obligations #AUGH

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5sospenguinqueen · 1 month ago

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Land Of The Free | Logan Sargeant x Verstappen! Reader

Summary: Logan is just minding his business, quietly going about his life, secretly loving Max Verstappen's younger sister. Until the day he posts her in one of his Williams shirts.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, secret relationship, badly edited pics, one suggestive comment

Requested: yes by anon

F1 Masterlist

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yn_verstap just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe and others

yn_verstap who decided skiing was a holiday, i want to have a word with their manager

16,087 comments

maxverstappen1 watching you get a face full of snow was the highlight of my week

→ yn_verstap watching you lose a race is the highlight of my week

→ maxverstappen1 you take that back or i’m telling mama

kellypiquet just means you can keep me company whilst P and max ski

→ yn_verstap perfect. i’ll order the hot chocolates

user1 okay but that’s such a pretty sunset

→ user2 it’s never an y/n aesthetic post without a sunset

logansargeant those gloves make you look like you have gauze paws

→ yn_verstap okay callie torres. i regret showing you grey’s anatomy

→ user3 since when were they friends?

→ user4 she talks to him in the paddock all the time

user5 the matching outfits P and kelly have are so cute

→ kellypiquet max was meant to as well but he refused so we gave y/n his beanie

→ yn_verstap just call me mr steal ya girl

→ maxverstappen1 how do i disown you

→ victoriaverstappen y/n and i have been trying to figure that out for years

logansargeant just posted

liked by kylekirkwood, alex_albon and others

logansargeant ski you later

18,558 comments

user6 i swear all the drivers go skiing for winter break

user7 omg logan is skiing at the same as y/n verstappen. is he with her?

→ user8 no. she’s with max, kelly and p

→ user9 charles is also skiing, that doesn’t automatically mean he’s with them. can we stop pushing this agenda

alex_albon why are you stood like a roblox character liked by logansargeant

user10 okay but that sunset is almost identical to y/n’s

→ user11 wow it’s almost like the sun is the same

williamsracing rest and refresh

→ user12 gtfo

daltonsargeant love how obvious your photographer’s shadow is. did you sit and go ‘take a pic of me?’

→ logansargeant living my instagram model dreams

→ user13 can anyone tell if that shadow is a woman or a man?

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yn_verstap just posted

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yn_verstap goed om thuis te zijn (good to be home)

14,321 comments

sophiekumpen you better come home whilst you’re here

→ yn_verstap i am literally in your driveway. unlock the door

→ user1 she has such younger sibling energy

→ maxverstappen1 yeah, she gets away with everything

→ yn_verstap shut up, golden child

alexandrasaintmleux pretty pretty girl

redbullracing excuse me. where’s our garage? can’t feel like home without us

→ yn_verstap @/maxverstappen1 they’re stalking me again

user2 max got the racing genes but y/n got the pretty genes liked by yn_verstap liked by logansargeant

victoriaverstappen don’t forget you owe me lunch

→ yn_verstap geez i can’t catch a break round here

→ victoriaverstappen i’ll bring my boys

→ yn_verstap on my way !

→ user3 love how family oriented she is

landonorris i thought you had hayfever

→ yn_verstap hayfever is for weak 💪

→ logansargeant you were literally crying. there was mascara running down your cheeks

→ yn_verstap gotta commit to the aesthetic

alex_albon you were with logan? he told me was busy

→ yn_verstap he needed a tour guide. are you belgian? no

logansargeant just posted

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logansargeant ready for one last push before the summer break

23,600 comments

user4 excuse me, is that a woman?

→ user5 excuse me, is that y/n verstappen?

alex_albon um, mate, i don’t think you meant to post that last pic

kylekirkwood oh brother, you are in danger

daltonsargeant lo, you might need to recheck this post

user6 y/n verstappen!

user7 i knew this was happening but people tried to say i was crazy

williamsracing i think we need to have another chat about using social media

charles_leclerc someone film max’s reaction to this for me, please

→ user8 ha, he’s so messy

user9 i literally called this back on his skiing post and i was accused of pushing an agenda

user10 um, guys, i have a paddock pass and i’ve just heard a really loud yell come from the rbr garage?? i think this might be related

maxverstappen1 what are you doing with my sister!!

(this post has been deleted)

yn_verstap just posted

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yn_verstap oops, looks like i forgot to tell people about my relationship with logan

20,001 comments

maxverstappen1 oh, so i’m just people now

→ daltonsargeant not to rub it in but i knew

→ user11 uh oh we’ve got the girls fighting in the comments

→ logansargeant it’s only because you walked in on us, and i don’t have to worry about you driving me off the track

user12 omg the fact that they’ve been together or friends for so long that he was with her during the short hair era and now it’s grown past her shoulders

user13 the matching pjs!

user14 the matching disney shirts!

→ user15 california?

→ logansargeant obviously. making an american out of her

→ maxverstappen1 don’t you dare. she’s belgian-dutch!

→ victoriaverstappen don’t piss off our mother before you’ve even met her

→ sophiekumpen met, loved, and approved. but she will never be american

→ yn_verstap and the home of the brraaavvvveeeee

→ maxverstappen1 disowned

oscarpiastri urgh you’re one of those couples. sickeningly, disgustingly in love, reminding us all that we’re alone and sad

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requests open (but very slow because i'm crap)

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verstappenverse · 4 months ago

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Knight of My Heart

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After one too many drinks, a protective Max arrives right when you need him most.

1.7k words / Masterlist

It was nearly 2am when Max’s phone buzzed on his nightstand, dragging him from the edges of sleep. The faint light from his screen illuminated the dark room, and he reached for it with a groggy hand, squinting at the text that appeared.

“She’s drunk. Like realllly drunk. Can you come get her?”

Max sat up, his heart already sinking. The message was from one of your friends, someone whose name he only half-remembered from the countless times they’d insisted they’d “watch out for you.” Max knew better by now. He sighed, raking a hand through his messy hair, before throwing the sheets off and quickly pulling on a hoodie and jeans.

The drive to the club was quiet, but Max’s mind wasn’t. He hated these nights. It wasn’t just the thought of you being drunk and vulnerable, it was the idea that you were so carefree and beautiful, and people always noticed. Too many times Max had seen guys try to get too close, their smiles too slick and intentions too obvious.

When he finally pulled up outside the club he saw you almost immediately. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

You were leaning against a lamp post near the curb swaying slightly in your heels, a dazed smile on your face as a man hovered beside you. Max’s chest tightened at the sight. The guy was too close, his body angled toward yours as he spoke animatedly, gesturing with his hands. You laughed softly at whatever he said, your voice carrying over the low thrum of the music spilling from the club’s entrance.

Max killed the engine and climbed out, his jaw set. His strides were purposeful, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“Maxie!” you squealed the moment you spotted him, your arms flinging open in delight.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his torso and nearly toppling yourself over in the process.

The guy looked over at Max, not at all intimidated, but Max didn’t care. His jaw tightened, his fists clenching by his sides as he stepped closer.

“You good?” Max asks you, his voice a little rougher than usual.

The man gave Max a once-over, clearly sizing him up. “She seems fine to me,” he said, his tone too casual for Max’s liking.

Max’s eyes narrowed, the jealousy coursing through him now unmistakable. He took a step closer to him. “Oh because you know her so well, right?” he asked the guy, voice clipped.

With a taunting smirk, the guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “She was just telling me about her night. She looked like she needed some company.”

Max wasn’t having it, he stands tall, his body blocking your view of the man now. “Right, I don’t think you understand,” Max replied dryly, placing a firm hand on your waist. “I’m her boyfriend, she's mine. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll take it from here.”

The man’s lips twitched, as though he wanted to argue, but something in Max’s gaze seemed to convince him otherwise. With a tight nod, he muttered a quick, “Whatever man,” and walked off into the crowd.

As the guy disappeared, Max’s frustration didn’t completely fade, but he focused right back on you. Guiding you towards his car, hand never leaving your side. You leaned into him, your cheek resting against his shoulder the alcohol making your limbs feel heavy.

You looked up at him, your face slightly flushed, your eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” you asked quietly.

Max’s lips press together tightly, trying to ignore the flare of jealousy still lingering. “I’m fine,” he said, even though he’s anything but. "Just... I want you to be safe alright?"

You nod, though your head wobbles slightly. "I know... just wanted to have some fun…long week."

Max exhaled slowly, his tension only easing slightly as he turned to you. You were beaming up at him, clearly oblivious to the small confrontation that had just unfolded.

“I get it,” he said softly, his hand steadying you at your waist. “But where are your friends?”

“They’re inside,” you mumbled, waving a hand vaguely toward the club entrance. “Or somewhere. I don’t know. I came out to get some air.”

Max sighed, scanning the area for any sign of your group. Just then a few of your friends emerged from the club giggling.

“Max!” One of them called her tone far too cheery. “She’s all yours.”

Max’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling over. “Why did you let her get this drunk?” he snapped. “Anything could’ve happened to her out here!”

Your friend blinked, her smile faltering. “She’s a big girl Max. Besides, we knew you’d come.”

“That’s not the point,” Max said, his voice sharp. "You should’ve made sure she was safe.”

Your friends exchanged glances mumbling something, he exhaled heavily running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m glad you've all had fun, but next time just… watch out for her yeah? She’s very important to me.” He gazed down at you.

Your friends exchanged glances, some looking sheepish, others visibly annoyed at his tone.

“We had it under control Max,” one of your friends said, her tone defensive. “We weren’t going to babysit her all night.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Being there for your friend isn’t babysitting, it’s just what you do.”

Another friend, the quieter one of the group spoke up “Okay Max. We’ll keep a better eye on her next time, promise.”

“Thank you,” he said simply, looking back down at you. Your eyes were half-closed, a lazy smile on your lips as you mumbled something unintelligible against his chest.

Max shook his head, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his face. “Alright,” he said to the group, his tone a little lighter now. “I’m taking her home. Get back safely.”

“We will,” the quieter friend said, giving him a small, apologetic smile.

Max turned to you with a sigh of relief. “Let’s get you home.”

Max guided you to the car, his hand never leaving your waist. You leaned into him heavily, giggling at every little thing, the way his hand steadied you, the low muttering under his breath, even the way he opened the car door for you like you were royalty.

“You’re so nice to me Maxie,” you said, settling into the passenger seat with a content sigh.

“I’m always nice to you,” he replied, pulling the seatbelt across your body and clicking it into place.

“You are,” you agreed, your voice soft and dreamy. “You’re my favourite person, you know that?”

Max froze for a moment, sure his heart skipped a beat, before he shook his head and closed your door.

The drive home was quiet, save for your occasional hums and mumbled comments about the pretty city lights. Max glanced at you every so often, his hand gripping your thigh, your eyes fluttering shut for brief moments.

When he finally pulled into his apartment’s parking garage you stirred, blinking sleepily. Inside you clung to him like a lifeline, your arms looped around his neck as he guided you to the bathroom.

“You’re so tall,” you murmured, your head resting against his chest. “Like a tree. A strong, handsome tree.”

Max chuckled despite himself, shaking his head as he set you down on the bathroom counter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway,” you said, your grin lazy and smug.

He didn’t respond, instead reaching for a makeup remover wipe from the cabinet. You watched him curiously as he carefully cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Taking your makeup off,” he said simply.

You stared at him, your expression unreadable, as he carefully wiped at your face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he avoided your eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand.

"You take such good care of me." You whispered, reaching up to touch his hand. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know,” he said with a slight frown, his eyes finally meeting yours. “But I want to. You deserve it.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Max carried you to the bedroom, letting you climb him like a koala as you giggled into his shoulder. He set you down gently, pulling the covers over you before crouching beside the bed. You blinked at him sleepily, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re like a knight,” you mumbled, your voice thick with drowsiness. “My very own knight in shining armour.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “A very tired knight,” he replied, brushing a stray hair from your face. “But you’re going to hate me in the morning if I let you go to sleep without water and something for your hangover.”

“I don’t hate you,” you slurred, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. “I could never hate you.”

His chest tightened at the sincerity in your tone, “Stay awake for just a few more minutes okay? I’ll be right back.”

You made a soft noise of protest as he stood, but you didn’t try to stop him. Max moved quietly through the apartment, grabbing a glass from the kitchen and filling it with cold water. From the bathroom he grabbed a pack of paracetamol, the domesticity of the routine bringing a faint smile to his lips.

When he returned you were still half-propped against the pillows, your eyes fluttering open at the sound of his footsteps.

“Here,” Max said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He handed you the glass and pressed two pills into your palm. “Take these and drink some water. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

You squinted at the pills like they’d personally offended you. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Max replied firmly, his lips quirking upward. “No arguments.”

“Bossy,” you muttered, but you popped the pills into your mouth and swallowed them with some water. “Happy now?”

“Very.”

You handed the glass back to him, and he set it on the nightstand before leaning forward to pull the blankets higher around you.

“I’m so lucky you’re my Maxie,” you sighed.

“Sleep,” he said softly, stroking your cheek.

“Stay,” you murmured, your eyes already half-closed.

Max hesitated, his heart twisting with adoration, before nodding. “I’ll be right here.”

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orangeblossomsintheair · 4 months ago

Note

oh could you write something cute about the reader and Lando please, maybe something funny where the reader says "oh yeah I'll do this but for that you'll buy me a Porsche" and Lando actually buys her a car 💜

BRAND AMBASSADOR | LN4

wc : 3k

an : slowly working through my requests yippie! im not too sure about this but i hope its alr :'>

It was meant to be a joke. Really.

But Lando didn’t know how to take a joke.

For weeks, he’d been pestering you to do a photoshoot with him for Quadrant.

“Brand image, baby!” he insisted, arms flailing as if that explained everything. “Power couple vibes! You and me, absolutely dominating the internet. Imagine the engagement!”

“My manager would actually drop dead if I did a hoodie campaign.”

“Oh come on, baby, just one photoshoot,” he pleaded, leaning so far over the kitchen island that he looked like he might slide right off. “Just a few pics in Quadrant stuff! Hoodie, joggers, maybe the bucket hat if you're feeling spicy-"

You didn’t even look up from your phone. “Lando. I’m booked for the next eight months. Vogue is flying me to Paris next week, and Dior wants me in Milan by the weekend. I don’t have time to play influencer in your gamer merch.”

“It's not gamer merch!” Lando gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. “It’s- it's… lifestyle! Culture! Gaming and racing fusion!”

“That’s cute,” you said flatly, scrolling.

Lando narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t even look at the new designs I sent you.”

“Because it’s just another hoodie, baby.”

He gasped again, louder this time. “Just another hoodie?”

“Oh, I’m sorry- hoodie, but make it Formula 1.”

“Wow.” He pointed at you. “I cannot believe this slander. From my own girlfriend.”

“Your supermodel girlfriend,” you corrected without missing a beat.

“And yet, I’m still here, humbly begging for crumbs of attention.”

You didn’t even blink.

And that’s when you heard it. The soft shuffle of socks against hardwood floors.

You looked up just in time to see Lando drop dramatically to his knees in front of you, arms sprawled over your thighs like some lovesick Victorian maiden.

His chin rested on your knee, staring up at you with those big, stupidly pretty eyes.

“Please.” His voice dropped to a pitiful whisper, like he was auditioning for a charity ad. “Do a Quadrant shoot with me.”

“Oh my God, Lando- get off the floor!”

“No. I live here now.” He clung tighter. “Photoshoot. Please, baby. You could be the face of the brand! Imagine it: you in my merch, absolutely carrying. We could finally replace Max’s ugly mug on the website-”

“Lando!” You laughed, swatting at him.

“It’s true! The customers deserve better!”

“You own the brand. You’re supposed to be the face.”

"But you’d look so good in my hoodies," he said, practically drooling at the thought. "God, you in joggers? Maybe one of those cropped sweaters? The internet would lose its mind.”

You stared at him. Long. Hard.

“…Fine.”

His eyes lit up, stars in aquamarine. “Wait, really?”

“But it’s gonna cost you.”

Lando blinked. Sat up straighter. “How much?”

You smirked, dragging your perfectly manicured nails through his curls, watching him melt like butter.

“A car.”

His entire posture changed. He sat up straighter, interest piqued. Now you were speaking his language. “Which one?”

You almost choked. “Excuse me?”

Lando leaned in, eyes sharp now. “Which. One.”

Oh, he was serious.

You blinked, regrouped, and leaned back like you were simply ordering off a menu.

“LaFerrari.”

Silence.

“The red one. Wine red. Matches my nails.” You admired the burgundy polish glinting under the light. “I’d look good in it.”

Lando didn’t even blink.

“Deal.”

Your head snapped toward him. “What?”

“Done.” He stood up, dusting off his sweatpants like you hadn’t just asked for a multi-million-dollar hypercar. “I’ll have the keys for you next week. Photoshoot’s on Friday.”

“Lando, that’s a LaFerrari-”

“And?”

“It’s like… a $3 million car!”

He tilted his head. “Do you want it in the garage or delivered to your place?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“…You’re insane.”

Lando leaned down, smirking, and kissed your forehead. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

“…I want full creative control over the shoot.”

“Baby, you can set the studio on fire if it makes you happy.”

“And you’re paying for my glam team.”

“Obviously.”

You stared at him, still trying to process how you had accidentally hustled a hypercar off your billionaire boyfriend in under five minutes.

“And I want full rights to veto any photo where I look bad.”

“Oh, baby, you never look bad.”

You squinted. “If I show up and it’s just me in some hoodie in front of a brick wall-”

Lando’s hands cupped your cheeks, deadly serious. “You will be in a hoodie… in front of a gaming PC.”

You slapped his hands away.

—

You were never supposed to take it this far.

The photoshoot was meant to be a joke.

A little bargaining chip to shut Lando up for five minutes. You didn’t think he’d actually pull it off.

Yet here you were.

In a studio. In a Quadrant hoodie. In sweatpants.

And to make it worse, Lando was treating this like he was shooting for Vogue.

“Okay, okay- pause! Can we fix the lighting on her left side? I need more contrast, more mood. She’s selling the hoodie but not the vibe.”

You slowly turned to glare at him. “Lando. I am wearing a hoodie. There is no ‘vibe.’”

“There’s always a vibe!” Lando spun around to the photographer. “Tell her there’s a vibe.”

The photographer, who was clearly riding the paycheck wave, gave you an awkward smile and a less than enthusiastic thumbs up. “Yeah. Big vibe.”

You groaned and adjusted the hoodie, tugging the hood up over your head. “Lando, I walked for Dior last month. Dior. And now I’m here, dressed like a Twitch streamer in front of a gaming PC.”

Lando gasped. “First of all, streamers WISH they looked this good. Second of all, don’t disrespect the setup. That’s a triple-monitor, RGB-lit, water-cooled rig worth more than my life.”

“Yeah, well, it better be. Because I’m dying inside.”

“Okay, can we get a shot of her sitting on the desk? Like, casual, but make it fashion. Maybe holding a controller? No- headset! Baby, put on the headset.”

You stared at him. “You want me to wear a gaming headset in a fashion shoot?”

“Yes. Gamer girlfriend aesthetic. Internet eats that up.”

“I haven’t touched a console since the Wii came out.”

“And that’s the fantasy!”

—

Lando couldn’t stop staring.

The moment you put on the damn headset, he knew he was in trouble.

He’d been so smug, so proud of himself for getting you to agree to this ridiculous photoshoot.

But now? Now he was fighting for his life.

Because there you were, sitting on the desk in a Quadrant hoodie, wearing his brand, looking so effortlessly good that it was like the universe was punishing him for ever thinking this was a good idea.

It wasn’t just the way the hoodie hung on you, oversized and perfect, or the way you pushed the headset into place like you were made to wear it.

It was the thought behind it.

You were wearing his stuff.

And that did things to him.

Very Dangerous things.

Lando dragged a hand over his face, trying to snap himself out of it, but it was no use.

His gaze betrayed him, sliding back to you as you leaned back on the desk, legs crossed, your smirk telling him you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

“Lando,” you said, your voice teasing and smooth, “you okay over there, baby?”

He tried to play it cool. “Yeah. All good.” His voice cracked halfway through, and he coughed to cover it up.

But he wasn’t fine.

Not even close.

His hands were clammy, his heart was pounding, and he was hyperaware of the fact that he was growing harder by the second.

Oh, this was bad.

You shifted on the desk, leaning forward slightly, the motion drawing his eyes to your legs before snapping them back to your face.

That cocky little smirk was still there, your stupidly pretty eyes glinting with amusement.

You were enjoying this. Brat.

“You sure?” you pressed, tilting your head.

His voice was higher this time, strained and barely holding it together. “Yep. Fine. Totally fine.”

You didn’t buy it for a second. “Lando…”

“That’s it,” Lando muttered, voice tight, cracking slightly with frustration. “Break! We’re taking a break.”

His words were sharp, a contrast to the usual smooth confidence he exuded.

Without waiting for any response, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you away from the set with a sense of urgency that didn’t match the cool composure he usually carried.

“Lando, what the-”

“Not now,” he interrupted, low and tense, as he pulled you into a nearby storage room.

The door clicked shut with an almost deliberate force, the sound of the lock turning echoing in the small space.

You barely had time to gather your thoughts before he was in your space, his breath coming fast, his chest rising and falling against yours.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” His voice was low, strained, his hands finding your waist, gripping tight, enough to bruise.

A slow smile spread across your lips. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

Lando’s forehead pressed against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as if trying to center himself.

His breath fanned across your lips, shaky and uneven, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his chest seemed to rise and fall faster with every breath.

“You’re a brat,” he muttered under his breath, voice raw, yet edged with something almost desperate.

“You’re the one who wanted me in your merch,” you teased, your fingers curling into his hair as you leaned into him, feeling the heat of his body.

“Yeah, well…” His hands slid lower, pulling you closer, his fingertips burning against your skin. “Now I’ve got more than I bargained for.”

The words barely left his lips before his mouth found yours.

The kiss was messy, urgent, his lips urgent against yours, like he couldn’t get enough.

You didn’t need to think. Your body responded immediately, hands moving to pull him closer, the heat building.

The press of his body against yours was relentless, hard and desperate, as he deepened the kiss.

His hand slid down your thigh, pulling it up to hook around his waist, while the other traced a slow, deliberate path along your jaw.

His breath fanned across your skin, shallow and uneven, each exhale carrying a heat that set your nerves ablaze.

“You don’t fight fair,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with a hunger that made your stomach flip. His mouth moved to your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as his teeth grazed your throat.

Your lips curled into a smirk, your nails raking across his back just enough to make him shudder. The sound of his sharp inhale sent a rush of power through you.

“Neither do you,” you whispered, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his as your fingers found the hem of his hoodie, tugging it higher, your touch skimming over his skin.

“God, you…” His voice broke, his words catching in his throat as he crashed his mouth back to yours.

The kiss was harder this time, almost frantic, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

His hands moved with purpose now.

Demanding, claiming, leaving no part of you untouched.

Your nails scraped against his back again, dragging another groan from deep in his chest, a sound so raw and desperate it made your knees weak.

His hips rocked against you, slow and deliberate, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.

“Careful, Norris,” you teased, your voice breathless but still carrying a hint of mischief as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. A quiet intensity that you'd seen more than once.

“You’re starting to look a little… well, territorial.”

For a moment, he froze. His chest heaved with every ragged breath as if he was trying to regain control.

Then his lips twitched into a sly, almost dangerous smile, one that sent a thrill through you.

“Maybe I am,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, each word carrying weight. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, making any distance between you disappear.

The words sent a shiver through your spine. But it wasn’t fear. It was something else, something exciting, something that only made you want more.

His lips found your neck again, pressing soft, burning kisses against your skin.

His teeth grazed over your pulse, just enough to send a jolt through you, sharp and unexpected, making your breath catch in your throat.

You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered, “Everyone’s going to notice, you know. You weren’t exactly subtle when you dragged me off like that.”

The corner of his mouth curled into a grin, but it was dark now, and there was a sudden pressure in his hands as he adjusted his position against you. “Let them notice,” he said, his voice thick with something unspoken.

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t care. They can see whatever they want.”

The words sent a wave of heat rushing through your body, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, your nails scraping lightly over his back.

—-

When it was over, you leaned back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breath.

Lando, however, was already standing in front of you, his hair tousled, his hoodie still hanging off his frame in a way that somehow made it look even better on him than it ever had before.

He bent down casually to scoop your underwear from the floor, dangling them in front of you with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Come on, love,” he said, his voice rough and teasing, still thick with exertion. “Don’t leave me hanging. Put these back on before we go out there.”

You shot him a glare, snatching the fabric from his hand and hurriedly slipping it on, feeling the heat rush to your face.

Lando leaned back against the wall, watching you with a cocky, self-satisfied grin. “Still dripping with me,” he murmured, but the rasp in his voice made your stomach flip. You felt your cheeks flush even more.

You rolled your eyes, tugging the hoodie down to hide your body and fix your composure. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with a wink. “Guess that says something about you too.”

The studio lights were still dimmed as you walked back in, legs slightly unsteady. You caught yourself on the doorframe, trying to keep your cool, but the feeling between your legs was still fresh, raw.

Lando followed you, smirking like a cat that had just caught its prey. He leaned against the wall, eyes on you as his grin grew wider. “Fix your hair,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “You look like you just got fucked.”

You barely suppressed a laugh, brushing your fingers through your hair and pulling it back into something that at least resembled “done.” “Gee, I wonder why,” you muttered under your breath.

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way you were still trying to play it cool. “Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

You narrowed your eyes, about to retort when Lando took a step forward, his smirk never fading, and pulled you close. He kissed you softly, lingering, the kind of kiss that made it hard to remember where you ended and he began.

“Come on,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away, the mischief still dancing in his eyes. “We’ve got a photoshoot to finish.”

—-

Months passed.

The LaFerrari didn’t show up.

Not that you cared. Really.

Sure, it had been a fun little joke—“Pay me in a LaFerrari or I’m not doing this shoot”—but you never expected Lando to actually follow through.

He said he would but Lando also forgot to stock up on groceries some days so you didn’t take it to heart.

Besides, it wasn’t like you had time to think about it.

Your schedule was relentless: fashion weeks in Paris, Vogue shoots in Milan, fittings for Dior in New York.

You were barely home long enough to unpack, let alone pine after a car.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Until one night, after a particularly grueling flight back from London, you pulled into your driveway and-

You slammed the brakes.

Because there it was.

A LaFerrari.

Burgundy red. Like aged wine. Like sin and velvet had a baby and parked it outside your house.

It gleamed under the porch light, shameless and expensive.

For a full minute, you did nothing but stare, slack-jawed.

Then you slowly got out of the car, leaving your bags in the trunk.

“Lando,” you muttered, pulling out your phone.

You called.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, baby- what’s up?”

“You left a LaFerrari on my driveway.”

“Oh! You got home?” He sounded way too casual.

“Lando. There is a multi-million-dollar car parked outside my house.”

“Yeah, about that. It’s yours. Obviously.”

“…You’re joking.”

“Would I joke about something this expensive?”

“Yes.”

“Fair. But not this time.”

You stared at the car again.

“Are you serious? After months?”

“It takes time to deliver a LaFerrari!” Lando said, his voice way too serious for a man who had just been exposed.

“I had to get it customized, too. Your name is literally engraved on the side. And then there was the whole issue with cargo. Did you know they’re super strict about how cars are transported? I had to make sure it wasn’t gonna get dented, and the shipping company I trust didn’t have any available slots until-”

“I thought you were joking, Lando!”

“Well, I wasn’t,” he replied confidently. “You said you wanted a LaFerrari. You said ‘make it red wine,’ so I made it red wine. I also got the seats customized with carbon fiber inserts and-”

You groaned in disbelief, interrupting him. “You literally bought the car, customized it, and shipped it to my house."

Lando blinked, unfazed. “Well, yeah. Obviously. Did you think I was kidding about that part?”

“Yes! It’s a LaFerrari! Who even does that?! It’s absurd!”

"Clearly me.” He paused. “Check the glove compartment.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Suspicious, you approached the car, heels clicking on the pavement. You opened the door.

God, even the door sounded expensive- and popped the glove compartment.

Inside was a tiny Hot Wheels car. A red LaFerrari.

Taped to it was a sticky note.

“Just in case this one wasn’t enough. - Lando”

You stared at it.

You looked back at the LaFerrari, glinting under the sun like some ridiculous, over-the-top love letter.

“…I’m taking it to the Dior fitting tomorrow.”

“You better.”

“…Is this why you were ignoring my texts last week?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you! I was busy coordinating with Italy!”

“Oh my God.”

#x reader #formula one x reader #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x reader #lando imagine #lando x y/n #lando x you #lando x reader #lando norris #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #ln4 fanfiction

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therealmylesmorales · 5 months ago

Text

Don’t Take It Personal

Summary: you’re a little worried about how much time Vi is spending with her new friend

Part 2

Warnings: vi’s kind of a dumbass, ngl. Angst probably. R plays a sport for the plot (just vibe guys) loser!vi au

WC: 1.6k

Vi made a new friend.

That was a rare feat for her, seeing how out of the few people she considers a friend included you, her girlfriend, and Jinx, her sister.

She came home beaming after her usual workout at the gym. There was a new face she didn’t recognize and to Vi’s surprise, the friendly chat turned into a new friendship.

Her name was Caitlyn Kiramman. You knew her name, seeing the title “Kiramman” around a few buildings. Caitlyn was studying abroad for a few months, hence why Vi didn’t meet her until now. And yet, the new friendship was blossoming quickly. You didn’t mind, just happy that she managed to make more friends without you being present.

That was until Vi started hanging out with her more than you.

Srry, babe cant make it. At the gym wth Cait 💪🏻

11:23am

You frowned a bit at the recent text Vi sent you. You were at the library waiting for her for your weekly study date but when she was almost half an hour late you finally texted her. Only for your girlfriend to take a raincheck. Again.

Seeing how Vi wasn’t showing up, you still decided to stay for at least another hour; work still needed to be done with or without her. When you did decide to leave, you had to pass by the gym in order to go home. You figured Vi was still inside so you didn’t bother to linger until you heard a familiar voice.

”I’ll see you around, cupcake!”

Cupcake?

You turned to see Vi and Caitlyn leaving the large building. Vi immediately saw you and rushed over to you. Caitlyn gave you a polite wave before going her own way.

She was calling her ‘cupcake.’ You felt a little irritated at the—at your— nickname Vi called Caitlyn. Granted, ‘cupcake’ wasn’t one that was used very often, only when Vi was teasing or being purposely irritating to you. But still. It was your name.

Pushing the negative feelings aside you greeted Vi with a kiss. She smiled into it then pulled you into a tight hug, her arms almost crushing you.

”You stick, Vi,” you muttered into her neck.

A soft laugh escaped her. “You enjoy it. What are you doing here?”

”Going home. Then I saw you and…cupcake.”

”Don’t be like that,” Vi groaned, trying to play it off. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Never said you did.” You tried to change the subject, not wanting to make it a big deal. “Are you going to my game Friday or are you going to be too busy with Caitlyn. It’s the last one of the season, Vi.”

“Hey, have I ever missed a game before?” She asked rhetorically. ”But if it makes you feel better, I promise that I’ll be there.”

”Good.”

Vi then wrapped her arm around you, putting you in an almost headlock, and started walking in the direction of the same apartment. “Let’s go. I’m exhausted.”

While what Vi said did ease some of you worrying, it didn’t stay for long. For the rest of the week, Vi was still with Caitlyn. Even though you attended most of the same classes, and stayed in the same home, you only saw her in passing or for only an hour at night. And every word that came out of her mouth was about the other girl.

“I really think you’ll like Cait, she reminds me of you.”

“Caitlyn squatted 210 today! She’s catching up to me.”

”I’m sorry, baby. Cait and I made plans to see that movie. You can still come!” You hate to admit it but that comment made you pissed off more than anything.

Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn. You haven’t even properly met the girl yet it seemed like you knew everything about her.

When Friday finally came, you just hoped Vi would pay more attention to you rather than her friend. Unfortunately, you were proven wrong.

Hey, pretty, the game is starting soon. Are you still coming?

6:37pm

Yoooo Viiii??

7:01pm

Violet, dude, where are you??

7:15pm

Your leg tapped nervously against the ground, scanning the crowd for the familiar pink haired girl, but you came up dry. In the crowd you could see Jayce, Viktor and Mel who all gave you encouraging smiles. Even Jinx showed up, sitting next to Ekko. She gave you a small shrug at your questioning glance before turning back to your phone, possibly texting her sister.

The coach got your attention, urging you to join your teammates on the court. And with a heavy, disappointed sigh, you got up from the bench. You couldn’t focus on Vi anymore, but you still hoped that she would show up sometime during the game. She did promise after all.

But throughout the game, that familiar full head of pink hair was nowhere to be seen. There was an empty spot next to Jinx that was never filled. Trying to ignore the wide open space was almost impossible, but the game was won without Vi cheering for you. Sure, the ball did slip from your hands more times than you’d like to admit, but your team won.

Your friends that did decide to show up wanted to take you out for the rest of the night, a congratulatory dinner, but you weren’t feeling it. And while Jinx doesn’t like saying the word no, she surprisingly let you go home after you refused. You really just wanted to see if or when Vi would be home.

It was nearing nine at night and Vi still hadn’t called you and your recent text went unanswered. The TV was playing a show, mostly used as background noise as your thoughts took over you.

Almost thirty minutes later, you could hear some noise coming from the hallway.

The door to the apartment opened and you could hear Vi humming a song to herself when she locked up for the night. From your spot on the couch, you saw nothing wrong with her so you were glad to know she was safe. But now she had to dig herself out of the hole she dug.

Vi actually seemed surprised to see you but the smile she gave you was instant. “Oh, hey, babe. Why are you still up?”

”Waiting for you,” you shot back, moving to get closer to her. “It’s been hours Vi, we all have been calling and texting you—“

Vi showed you her phone, a black screen staring back at you. “It died a while ago. What’s with the third degree?”

”Do you remember what day it is?”

”Um…the tenth?”

”Um, maybe it’s the day of my game that you’d promise to come to,” you mocked. Yeah, you were being petty but you thought she deserved it.

Vi muttered a small curse to herself and she looked genuinely apologetic. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I swear, I was going to come but then my phone died, and-and I was with Caitlyn and—“

A heavy sigh escaped you at the name. “Caitlyn, right yeah. That makes sense.”

A look came on Vi’s face, one you knew too well when she was about to become argumentative. “What are you talking about?”

”You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, Vi,” you pointed out. “I’ve noticed it— we all have. You’re always with her.”

”We’re friends!”

”You’re friends with Jayce but when’s the last time you’ve hung out with him since meeting Caitlyn? Is she too rich for chargers so you couldn’t check your phone for five minutes?”

Vi scoffed at you. “What, you want me to stop hanging out with Caitlyn just because you’re jealous?”

”I have nothing to be jealous of, Violet!” You yelled. “Cait’s a friend, I get that. But you have been blowing me off time and time again for her. And the one time I actually needed you, you were with her instead. How the hell do you expect me to feel?”

A short pause came from Violet. And what she said next, set your skin aflame.

”I just think you’re overreacting. It’s a fucking game, I’ll just watch the next one.”

“Okay, you know what,” you paused, running your hands over your face; it didn’t do much to calm your heated nerves. “I’m not doing this with you, right now, Vi.”

Vi’s tense posture immediately changed at the tone of your voice; it was shaky, as if you were holding back tears. You almost never cried, at least in front of her, so the new sight was worrisome. She heard you breath in harshly before continuing.

“I’m way too upset at you right now to even finish this conversation,” you said quietly to her. “I’m tired…and honestly just want some space from you.”

Vi swore her heart stopped at those words. Space? “You…Y/N, you can’t be serious.” Space was the main thing Vi hated. It meant you leaving her.

”I am, actually.” Your back was turned from her at that point so you couldn’t see her face fall in disbelief at the sight of you getting ready to leave the apartment.

She knew you made up your mind and were done hearing her but Vi still had to try. “Babe, don’t go. You’re right, is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry, alright?”

”Glad you came to your senses,” you muttered, albeit bitterly.

Vi was desperate at this point. “You don’t have to leave! I can sleep out here!”

”When I said ‘space’, Vi, I meant completely,” you said. Your voice was starting to get tense, a tell that you were getting annoyed. “My parents live a few minutes away, remember? I'll be fine.”

”Y/N please, just—“

“Vi! I’ll…talk to you eventually,” was the last thing you said before the door closed behind you.

#vi x reader #arcane x reader #c: vi #myles writing

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solxamber · 6 months ago

Text

One Date and a Lifetime: Leona Kingscholar x reader

You have chosen Leona! ; aka the times Leona-i-don't-care Kingscholar puts in effort for you;

1k masterlist ; Prologue

You never thought Leona would actually take this date seriously. Honestly, when you first call him, you half expect him to suggest, "Let's just take a nap or something." Instead, his voice is low and smug, almost purring through the phone.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up later. Be ready.”

And just like that, he hangs up before you can ask for specifics. Typical. You're prepared for some half-hearted effort involving him dragging you to a secluded spot to nap under the stars or something like that. But then, a knock sounds at the door of Ramshackle, and there stands Ruggie with a bouquet.

“These are from Leona,” Ruggie says with a grin that’s two parts mischievous, one part disbelief. “He told me to get the ‘good ones,’ whatever that means. I charged him double, by the way.”

You take the flowers, cheeks warming, trying not to feel too charmed by the fact that the laziest lion you know thought to send you flowers. “Compensation good?”

“Let’s just say I’m eating like royalty tonight.” Ruggie winks before scampering off, probably with plans to milk his housewarden’s generosity for the rest of the week.

When Leona finally arrives at your doorstep, you're stunned into silence. He’s dressed to kill, sharp black slacks, a sleek button-up rolled at the sleeves. Effortlessly regal.

"You..." You blink. "You’re somehow even prettier than usual. How is that fair?"

He grumbles, averting his gaze, but you catch the way his chest puffs out just a little. “Tch. Cut it out.”

“Admit it—you love the compliments,” you tease, looping your arm around his as you step outside.

Leona scoffs but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna keep flattering me all night, or are we leaving?”

And so begins the wildest date you could have imagined: Leona, the notorious nap king, escorting you to a local festival, of all things.

You glance up at him as you stroll through the brightly lit stalls. “I thought you hated crowds.”

“I do,” he replies, but then adds in a gruff mutter, “It’s fine if it’s with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. You're lucky he looks so good because you might’ve fainted on the spot otherwise.

At one of the stalls, you spot a mountain of cotton candy, pastel pink and blue fluff that looks like it’ll melt if you so much as breathe on it. You buy a stick and tear off a piece, holding it up to Leona.

“C’mon, try it.”

He eyes the sugary fluff suspiciously. “That’s just sugar and air.”

“Exactly. Now open up.”

With an exaggerated groan, Leona leans down, and you pop the piece into his mouth. His brow furrows as he chews. “Way too sweet.”

But the next time you hold up another piece, he still eats it, grumbling under his breath about “sugar addicts.” You don’t miss the tiny, fond smile that sneaks onto his face, though.

As you continue through the festival, you spot a prize stall lined with plushies, including a little dragon that immediately catches your eye.

“I need that,” you say, determination sparking.

You try... and fail. Repeatedly. Leona watches your attempts with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s enjoying the show.

When you lose for the fifth time, he sighs dramatically. “Move.”

He steps up to the game and, with one smooth flick of his wrist, nails it on the first try. But instead of the dragon plush, he gives the attendant a lazy grin. “The lion.”

When he hands you the lion plush, you stare at it, confused. “What happened to the dragon?”

“Lions are better,” Leona says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No debate.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, but it’s him, and somehow that makes it perfect.

Later, when he takes you to an absurdly expensive restaurant, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? It’s... kind of pricey.”

He gives you a flat look. “Order whatever you want. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

So, naturally, you do. And the food is fantastic. Leona leans back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk as you happily dig into your meal.

When the date winds down and Leona walks you back to Ramshackle, the night air is cool, and you instinctively rub your arms. Without a word, Leona shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

You clutch onto his arm with a grin, snuggling into the warmth. “Thanks, Leona.”

He shakes his head, amused. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Of course you do.” You laugh, leaning against him. “Oh! Did I tell you what Ace and Deuce did earlier today? You won’t believe it.”

He humors you as you chatter away, recounting the latest shenanigans. “So, Grim decided to ‘supervise,’ which really just meant eating half the snacks while Ace accidentally set off the fire alarm—again.”

Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”

“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”

When you finally reach Ramshackle’s doorstep, you turn to face him, a little reluctant for the night to end. On a whim, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Leona freezes for half a second, and when you pull away, his expression is somewhere between surprised and utterly smitten.

“Goodnight, Leona,” you say softly, watching as he blinks down at you like you just shattered every lazy expectation he had about this date.

He clears his throat, looking away, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah... night.”

As he turns to leave, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just unlocked a whole new side of him—and you kind of love it.

You’ve been talking about this video game figure for weeks. Every time you hang out with Leona, he hears about it. Well, "hang out" is a generous term—he naps on your lap or leans against you, and you yap his ear off about how amazing the game is and how this figure is the holy grail of limited merch.

“I’ve been doing everything,” you rant one day, lying next to him in the botanical garden. “Crowley made me do ten extra assignments this week. I even agreed to clean Grim’s litter box without arguments—twice! But it’s worth it. If I get that figure, my life will be complete.”

Leona, who’s half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, cracks an eye open. “That good, huh?”

“Yes, that good. There are only ten in the world, Leona. Ten.”

He grunts, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Better hope your luck’s good, herbivore. Sounds like a lotta effort for a toy.”

“It’s not a toy,” you huff dramatically. “It’s a collectible figure, and it’s the coolest thing in existence. Just wait—when it drops tomorrow, I’m getting it.”

And yet, the universe doesn’t care about your efforts.

You stare at your phone screen in disbelief the next day. The site crashes, the countdown ends, and the figure sells out in 0.2 seconds flat. You refresh. Then refresh again. But it’s gone—snatched from your grasp like a mirage in the desert.

“No... no, no, no.” You sit there, devastated, as the weight of your failure sinks in. After all the work, all the chores, and all the emotional speeches to Leona, you’ve been denied. The limited-edition figure remains forever out of reach.

By the time you see Leona later, your mood is somewhere between tragic despair and begrudging acceptance. You find him lounging in the garden again, his favorite napping spot.

“Didn’t get it, huh?” he asks, his voice carrying that lazy drawl as you flop down beside him.

“Nope,” you sigh, resting your forehead on your knees. “All that work, all that hope... and nothing.”

Without another word, Leona pulls something from behind him and chucks it onto your lap.

You blink. Then blink again.

It’s the figure. The figure. THE limited-edition figure you’ve been pining after for weeks.

“Leona???” you squawk, holding it up like it might vanish into thin air if you let go. “What—how—why—?”

He just shrugs. “Still the second prince, y’know.”

“You—" Your jaw drops. “Did you use royalty status to get me this figure?!”

“Yeah.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he just asked the palace cook to make toast instead of pulling strings for a rare collector’s item.

You gape at him, torn between disbelief and giddiness. “Leona... that’s cheating.”

“So?” He leans back with a satisfied smirk, clearly amused by your reaction. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”

You can’t help it—you burst into laughter, clutching the figure like it’s the greatest treasure ever gifted to you. “You’re impossible.”

Leona tugs you down beside him, trapping you in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Now quit yappin’ and let me nap.”

Still grinning like a fool, you curl into him, giggling into his hair. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”

He huffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hand rests lazily against your back, warm and grounding. “Hmph. Lucky I like you.”

And just like that, he drifts off into sleep, his arms snug around you. And you? You lie there, feeling like the happiest person alive, hugging your figure close while Leona naps against you, his soft breaths the perfect lullaby.

The first sign something is wrong comes when Grim tries waking you up for your usual chaos-filled day.

“Hey, get up, henchhuman! We’ve got things to do!” he says, poking your cheek with one of his fluffy paws. “It’s already late! If Crowley gets mad, I ain’t takin' the fall!”

Normally, you’d groan and roll out of bed—or at least threaten Grim with chores—but today? All you can manage is a weak grunt before you flop back onto your pillow like a defeated pancake.

“Henchhuman?” Grim nudges you again, this time with more urgency. You crack one eye open just long enough to see his ears flatten in concern. “Oi, don’t ignore me—what’s wrong?”

Your head is heavy, and it feels like your bones have melted into jelly. You try to say I think I’m dying, but all that comes out is a sad, congested whimper.

Grim’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s a blur of blue fur and panic. “You’re dying!” he yells, as if confirming the worst-case scenario. “Don’t go toward the light, henchhuman! I’ll be right back—stay alive!!”

Before you can reassure him—or at least remind him that people don’t die from mild fevers—Grim is already out the door, paws skidding against the floor like a tiny tornado.

Somewhere across campus, Leona is enjoying a particularly satisfying mid-morning nap in the botanical gardens when an absolute menace of a furball barrels into him.

“HEY, YOU! Lion guy!” Grim shouts, climbing onto Leona's chest. “Get up! Henchhuman’s dying!”

Leona cracks open one bleary eye. “Dying?” he repeats with a skeptical grunt, already half-expecting Grim to be overreacting. “Probably just overslept.”

“I know the difference between sleeping and dying!” Grim shrieks, paws batting at Leona’s face. “They're burning up, can’t even sit up! You gotta do something!”

Leona grumbles under his breath, but he’s on his feet before Grim can push him again. The usual lazy slouch is gone, replaced by swift, purposeful movements.

By the time he strides into your room, Leona has already called his personal doctor, much to Ruggie’s dismay (“Do you know what time it is?! Do I get paid overtime for this??”). Leona doesn’t care. He’s moving fast—like a lion with a mission.

It’s a blur after that. You vaguely register a cool hand against your burning forehead, Leona’s voice a low rumble beside you. The doctor checks your pulse, takes your temperature, and declares it’s just a fever with some exhaustion thrown in. Nothing dangerous, but definitely enough to flatten you.

“Hah.” Leona lets out a short sigh of relief, slumping in the chair beside your bed. “Told ya Grim, not dead.”

“Yeah, well…” Grim’s still pacing at the edge of your bed, tail twitching in frustration. “They looked dead, okay?! How was I supposed to know?”

“You weren’t. That’s why I’m here,” Leona says flatly, though his tone is less irritated than usual.

The next few hours pass in a fog of sleep, soft voices, and the occasional pressure of something cool against your skin. Ruggie swings by every now and then to drop off food, grinning as he deposits soup and medicine like it’s some kind of delivery service.

“Man, if I knew babysitting was part of my job description, I’d have charged extra,” Ruggie teases, setting down a tray.

Leona just rolls his eyes. “Get lost, hyena.”

Despite his usual snark, Leona is surprisingly attentive. He makes sure you drink water, feeds you spoonfuls of soup even when you mumble protests, and keeps an arm draped lazily around you when you shiver. If anyone asks, he’ll say it’s just because you’re annoying and need constant supervision.

When you finally come to, it’s because something warm and heavy is curled against you. You blink a few times, head still foggy, and realize it’s Leona—completely sprawled across the chair next to your bed, but with one hand tightly clasping yours.

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of him. Carefully, you nudge closer, nestling against his arm. The movement stirs him awake, his golden eyes blinking down at you groggily.

“You awake now?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

“Barely,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Leona grunts, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles is answer enough.

Just as you’re about to fully enjoy the peace, a loud, dramatic voice cuts through the moment.

“Finally!” Grim bursts into the room, leaping onto your bed. “Took you long enough to wake up! I thought I’d have to hire a priest or somethin’!”

You chuckle softly, the sound a little scratchy. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”

“Pfft! As if.” Grim crosses his arms, looking away with a huff. “I just didn’t wanna be stuck with Crowley as my only companion. He’s useless.”

But despite his words, Grim scrambles onto your lap anyway, curling up against your chest with a grumble. “Don’t get sick again, okay? It’s a pain.”

You pet his fur, grinning as you feel him relax. “Okay, okay. No more dying.”

Leona shifts beside you, rolling his eyes. “What, am I invisible?”

“Shh,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Just let me enjoy my two favorite cats for a minute.”

Leona huffs, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not a cat. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

You grin back at him, and for once, you don’t need words to say thank you. He knows.

You like to think of yourself as a strong person. Someone who can hold their own in this chaotic, magic-ridden school where everything from magical accidents to actual ghost attacks is a typical Tuesday. You’ve handled your fair share of weird situations and even gotten through them without embarrassing yourself too badly. But… you are still a magicless human. And that’s a fact you can’t change.

So when three tall, muscle-bound Savanaclaw students corner you in a dimly-lit corridor on your way to visit Leona, your heart sinks.

"Where ya headin', little herbivore?" The biggest one grins, flashing sharp teeth that remind you just how much worse your day could get.

“Leona’s been hanging out with you a lot, huh?” another one sneers, blocking your path. “Think that makes you special or something?”

"Maybe they've got some kind of deal with him," the third one suggests, his voice dripping with mockery. "How about you tell us what’s really going on between you two?"

Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral. No way are you going to let them see how nervous you are. "How about you back off before you embarrass yourselves?" you say, proud of how steady your voice sounds.

The tallest one leans in, his grin widening. “Look at you, acting all tough. Too bad there’s no magic in that mouth of yours.”

You force yourself to hold your ground, though your fingers twitch toward your pocket. You really don’t want to bother Leona, but… well, desperate times. With a quick, discreet motion, you send a single SOS text.

You: Cornered. Help.

The three of them are still jeering at you when you hear footsteps approaching from behind. Slow, measured, and heavy with the kind of weight that makes everyone in the hallway tense.

"Oi," a familiar, low growl cuts through the noise like a hot knife through butter.

All three of them freeze. You glance over your shoulder—and there he is. Leona Kingscholar.

He stands at the end of the corridor, his usual lazy posture replaced by something much sharper, much more dangerous. His emerald eyes gleam with a warning, and a sly, predatory smile spreads across his face.

"Seems like I showed up just in time." His voice is deceptively calm, almost bored. “What do you think you're doin'?”

The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.

"Just… chatting," one of them stammers, the earlier bravado leaking out of him like air from a punctured balloon.

Leona steps forward, leisurely, as if he’s in no hurry—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes the air heavy with tension. His presence fills the space, demanding attention and submission.

"You must be real stupid," Leona drawls, "if you think you can mess with what’s mine."

The tallest boy blanches. “W-We didn’t mean—”

Leona’s grin sharpens, all teeth. "Didn’t mean to what? Annoy me? Make me waste my time on some sad, third-string rejects?"

They flinch, shrinking under the weight of his words. Leona isn’t yelling. He doesn’t have to. His authority is clear—absolute.

One of them mumbles an apology, and the others nod hurriedly, ready to slink away. But Leona’s not done.

“You ever try this again,” he says, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr, “I won’t just kick you out of Savanaclaw. I’ll bury you so deep, nobody’ll even remember your names.”

The boys scatter without another word, practically tripping over each other to escape.

Leona watches them go with a snort, then turns his gaze to you. His sharp expression softens just a fraction, the predatory edge giving way to something lazier—something almost… fond.

“You good?” he asks, as if he didn’t just verbally annihilate three guys on your behalf.

Your heart is racing, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. You’re not sure when it happened, but you are completely, utterly smitten.

“Yeah,” you say, trying—and failing—not to sound starstruck.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Like you’re impressed.”

“Oh, but I am.”

He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but you notice the faintest hint of color creeping up his ears. “Tch. Idiot.”

You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks for showing up, though.”

Leona shrugs like it’s nothing. "I told ya—just call me when you need me."

That does it. You feel yourself practically glowing at the simple promise, the quiet reassurance beneath his words.

You lean toward him, your grin widening. “What if I need you right now?”

He smirks, draping a lazy arm over your shoulders. “Then I guess I’m stuck with you.”

You let yourself melt into his side, the earlier tension gone like a bad dream. The two of you walk off together, his arm comfortably slung over you like it belongs there.

And, in that moment, you’re pretty sure it does.

The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.

You’ve been staring at the same page for what feels like hours, your head throbbing with frustration. You chew the end of your pen, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor. Why did you leave this for the last minute? Why does it feel like every word on the page is written in an ancient, cursed script meant specifically to drain your soul?

Meanwhile, Leona is draped over you like a weighted blanket, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. You know he’s napping because of the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. This man has zero care in the world.

He’s been napping while you’ve been spiraling. Because of course he is.

You mutter curses under your breath, willing the assignment to finish itself. But the numbers swim in front of your eyes, and your breaths grow shorter, more unsteady. Panic claws at the edges of your mind.

Leona stirs. He shifts just slightly, cracking open one eye to glance at you. “Oi,” he grumbles. “Stop breathin’ like you’re about to pass out.”

You ignore him and grip the pen tighter, heart pounding, trying to push through the stress. That’s the worst part about this assignment—if you don’t finish it, your grades will nosedive, and Crowley will never let you hear the end of it.

Suddenly, Leona's hand slips out from around you and snatches the pen from your grip. "Gimme that."

You blink as he pulls the paper closer.

"Leona, what are you—"

"Shh." He flips through the pages like they personally offended him. His eyes scan the questions with the kind of effortless ease that makes you want to scream in frustration. Without so much as a sigh, he picks up the pen and starts writing.

You can only sit there, dumbfounded, as his neat, surprisingly elegant handwriting fills in the answers you’ve been struggling with for hours.

"Wait—are you actually doing my homework?" you ask, staring at him in disbelief.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Told ya. I'm a senior. This stuff’s easy."

"Easy for you, maybe."

“Then why didn’t you ask me earlier?” he drawls, finishing the last answer without breaking a sweat.

You blink at the completed assignment like it might disappear if you look away. "I… didn’t think to."

Leona rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the desk with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Next time, just ask. I ain't gonna let you stress yourself out over dumb stuff.”

And that’s it. Just like that, all your anxiety evaporates.

You turn to look at him, utterly smitten once again. "You're ridiculous."

He leans back, resting his head against your shoulder again with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”

You let yourself melt into him, the earlier panic now a distant memory. His warmth, his steady breathing, the way his arms rest loosely around you—it all feels so easy. So right.

For a moment, you just sit there in silence, the peaceful kind that feels rare and precious. The assignment is finished. The world isn't ending. You don’t have to do everything alone.

You tilt your head to rest against his, your smile soft. "Thanks, Leona."

"Mm," he hums, already halfway back to sleep. But his hand gives yours a lazy squeeze, a quiet reassurance that makes your heart skip a beat.

The day passes in a haze of warmth and peace, your stress long gone. And you realize something: being with Leona feels like this—like having someone who makes the hard days bearable, without needing you to say a word.

And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

You've thought about asking him for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time the words start forming, you chicken out. You’re this close to accepting that you’ll just live in relationship limbo forever.

It’s safer. No awkward conversations, no heartbreak. Just… endless naps together, weird dates that may or may not be dates, and him doing sweet things without ever calling them what they are.

But tonight, as you sit curled up in his arms, watching the stars from a balcony in the botanical gardens, it feels like the moment. Leona is lounging beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, the other resting on your leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His warmth is comforting, grounding, and for once, you let yourself think: Maybe, just maybe, this is real.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. If he laughs or acts indifferent, fine. If it ruins everything—okay, not fine, but you'll survive.

“Hey, Leona?”

He hums, eyes still half-lidded. He’s relaxed, probably thinking about nothing except how long it’ll take for him to drag you back to bed.

You clear your throat. “What are we?”

Leona cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy look. “Huh?”

You shift nervously under his gaze. “Like… What is this? Are we—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “—a thing? Or… I mean, are you—do you even like me like that? Or—?”

He stares at you for a second, blinking slowly, like a cat woken from a nap it didn’t want to leave. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You feel your courage start to wither, but you force the words out. “I mean, I thought… We never really said anything official. And I don’t know if this is, you know—” You wave a hand. “Something? Or if you’re just putting up with me or—”

Leona makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, like you just asked him the dumbest question imaginable.

“You really thought I’d let you hang around me this much if I didn’t want you?” he says, giving you a flat, incredulous look.

You blink at him. “So… we’ve been dating this whole time?”

He just stares at you. “...What else did you think we were doing?”

“Oh my god—” You slap a hand over your face, torn between relief and secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you were just vibing.”

Leona snorts. “Yeah. Vibing with you. Idiot.”

Despite yourself, you laugh—a little breathless, a little giddy. It’s so absurd. All this time, you’d been worried about asking him where you stood, and he just… assumed you knew.

Leona rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, turning to face you. His gaze is softer now, and the usual laziness in it is replaced by something raw and unguarded. His hand, rough and warm, cups your cheek.

“Listen,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “I’m not good at sayin’ stuff like this, so don’t make me repeat it, okay?”

You nod, holding your breath.

“I love you.” The words slip out easily, like they’ve been waiting there all along. “Don’t care what anyone says, don’t care what they think—I'm not good at a lotta things, but I know I want you.”

Your heart stumbles. For a moment, the world feels too quiet, too small. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, like it's the easiest thing you've ever said.

Leona's lips twitch upward into a faint, self-satisfied smirk, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s not used to getting what he wants.

“So,” you say softly, “are you my boyfriend now?”

He gives you the look—that deadpan, long-suffering stare, like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question of the century.

“Then what the hell else would I be?” he grumbles.

You can’t help it. You laugh—bright, free, and maybe a little too giddy. And before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

The kiss is soft, warm, and it lingers just long enough to make your heart race. He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of something earthy, something that feels like home. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, holding you close like he has no intention of letting you go.

When you finally pull away, you grin at him, still breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, well.” He smirks, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” you whisper, and this time, it’s him who leans in.

And just like that, the world slips away, leaving only the two of you—wrapped in warmth, in laughter, in everything you never knew you needed.

Leona saunters into your room, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Hey, Falena and his family are visiting today,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

You blink at him from your bed, mid-scroll on your phone. “You mean the King and Queen of the Sunset Savanna are visiting.”

Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”

You sit bolt upright. “Leona, that’s not the same thing! Those are literal royals!"

He raises an eyebrow, already amused. “I’m royalty too, you know?”

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “But you’re my boyfriend!”

Leona’s smirk grows as smug as the desert sun. “Exactly.”

Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.

Despite your protests, you're soon standing next to Leona at the main entrance, sweating bullets as Falena, his wife, and Cheka step through the doors. They’re all gorgeous and elegant, the epitome of royal perfection. You’re about to pass out from nerves, but Leona? He looks like he’s two seconds away from falling asleep on his feet.

Cheka spots you first. “UNCLE LEONA!” he shrieks, barreling straight for his favorite uncle—and by extension, you. Before you can brace for impact, the little lion cub is already latched onto your legs.

“You must be the one Leona told us about!” Falena grins warmly, stepping up beside his wife, who’s equally radiant. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You gawk at him. “Wait... Leona talks about me?”

Falena’s wife smiles knowingly. “Quite a bit, actually.”

You shoot Leona a look, but he just rolls his eyes. “Don’t get weird about it.”

Meanwhile, Cheka, still latched to your leg like a koala, looks up with big, bright eyes. “You’re my favorite person now!” he declares, squeezing your leg tighter. “After Uncle Leona. But you’re mine after him, okay?”

Leona huffs out a laugh, amused by the possessive cub. “Tch. Good luck, kid.”

“I’ll fight for you!” Cheka promises dramatically, like you’re a prize to be won at a carnival. He even makes little fists, shadow-boxing an invisible opponent. “I’ll become a strong lion and beat all the bad guys!”

You try (and fail) to hold back a laugh. “Well, I look forward to it.”

Falena claps his hands together, his grin brighter than the savanna sun. “Since we’re all here, how about a walk around the grounds? It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Nope.” Leona’s arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer to him. “We’re good right here.”

Falena and his wife exchange that look—the kind that says they’ve been married long enough to know exactly what’s going on.

“We’ll leave you two alone, then,” Falena says with a chuckle, patting Leona on the shoulder. “We’re happy for you, Leona.”

His wife nods, her eyes twinkling. “Very happy.”

You open your mouth to protest—Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re just standing here! I’m not even sure what’s happening!—but the words don’t come. You just sputter and blush as Leona tugs you closer, looking far too pleased with himself.

“See?” Leona murmurs smugly, lips quirking into a grin as you bury your face in your hands. “Told you it wasn’t a big deal.”

You groan into your palms. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His grip tightens just a bit, his voice low and lazy as ever. “C’mon. Admit it—you like having a royal boyfriend.”

You peek through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Leona...”

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Say it.”

You glare up at him, flustered beyond belief but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “...Okay, maybe I do.”

He hums in satisfaction, practically purring. “Thought so.”

And just like that, he pulls you into a lazy, one-armed hug, as if holding you is the easiest thing in the world—and honestly? It kind of is.

The moment the news breaks that you’re dating Leona, you know it’s going to be a thing. A very loud thing. Ace and Deuce are the first to get wind of it, and honestly, you almost regret ever telling them.

“Leona Kingscholar?!” Ace yells, gaping like you just told him you were moving to Mars.

“Why??” Deuce adds, equally stunned. “Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in danger.”

“Isn’t he the guy who naps literally everywhere?” Ace squawks. “Like, you’re really dating a guy who falls asleep during fights?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”

“Not to mention he’s scary,” Deuce mutters. “What if he, I don’t know, kicks you out of the relationship because it’s too much work?”

“He’s not going to ‘kick me out,’ Deuce.”

Ace leans in conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows. “Have you thought about what happens when Riddle finds out?”

Deuce pales. “Oh man, I’m not telling him.”

“You’re definitely telling him.”

“No, you tell him!”

“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Ace scoffs. “I can already hear him screaming something about ‘poor romantic judgment!’”

Meanwhile, Jack is sitting with his arms crossed, brow furrowed. “I don’t know why you’re all acting like this. Housewarden Leona’s actually cool if you get to know him.”

Ace stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Jack, the man once threatened to ‘accidentally’ kick me into a bush because I sneezed near him.”

“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”

“It was allergy season!”

“Uh-huh.” Jack shrugs. “Still deserved it.”

Before you can jump in, Grim waddles in, arms crossed like the world’s smallest mafia boss. “I don’t care who you date as long as you’re still my henchhuman. Priorities, ya know?”

“Gee, thanks, Grim.”

Then, from across the room, Epel starts cackling like a madman.

“Oh, Vil is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Leona’s the exact opposite of Vil’s whole life philosophy. This is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Ace adds, smirking. “It’s like watching two completely different wildlife documentaries crash into each other.”

Before you can stop him, Sebek jumps in, indignant. “I cannot believe you would choose that lazy lout over the Young Master!” He practically growls the words.

“Sebek, Leona is—” you try to reason, but Sebek steamrolls right over you.

“He sleeps through his classes! He’s rude! And worst of all, he doesn’t respect Master Malleus!”

You sigh. “Sebek, you can’t date someone based on their respect levels for Malleus.”

“You should!” Sebek declares, crossing his arms dramatically like a lawyer who just delivered the winning argument.

Before things spiral further, Jack mutters, “Leona’s not rude. He’s just… efficient with his energy.”

“Efficient? He calls that one freshman ‘footstool,’ Jack,” Ace deadpans.

“Maybe it’s a term of endearment,” Jack grumbles defensively.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. The whole scene is chaotic—Ace flailing, Epel wheezing, Sebek looking personally offended, Deuce still white-knuckling through the idea of telling Riddle—and somehow, it’s perfect.

Because deep down, you know something they don’t.

Even though Leona doesn’t show it, even though he hates doing anything that even smells like effort, he cares. He really does. Whether it’s texting you to remind you to eat, draping his jacket over you when you forget yours, or waking you up from an accidental nap with your favorite snack—he makes sure you know.

You just smile quietly to yourself, heart warm. And when Ace notices and nudges you, asking what’s got you looking so smug, you just shrug.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, already counting down the minutes until you can see Leona again.

Because even though the man drives you up the wall and naps like a professional, he’s yours. And that makes all the teasing worth it.

1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist

i know lions don't purr but in my delusions, leona does. work with me here

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona x you #twst leona #leona kingscholar x you #leona #twst leona x you #1k event

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junicult · 7 months ago

Text

!! the bachelors after their first kiss with you

contains ; fluff! gn!(but written with fem in mind)farmer for most. implied male in alex’s. non canon setting (for most). unestablished relationships—pre dating. alcohol usage. smoking (cigarettess).

note ; i had a nice time in my imagination with this one

harvey.

he stares at you, stunned at how easily you were able to do the thing he’s been thinking about for weeks. how soft your lips felt, how comforting your hand on his chest was, and how genuinely intoxicated just one simple kiss from you was already making him feel.

he clears his throat, and almost like you just sucked every word out of him, all he could muster up was a mumbled, “thank you.” he thanked you. for kissing him.

you purse your lips, trying your darnedest not to laugh watching his face just drop, realizing the first thing he said to you after you kissed him for the first time was a thank you.

“oh no, it was my pleasure.” you tease, allowing a small giggle to slip. he sighs like his blood has run cold, too embarrassed to even respond. luckily for him, you’re just too perfect, and you cool his sting by leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. you pull back with a smile, hand cupped over the opposing one, “goodnight harvey. i’ll see you tomorrow. you can thank me for that one, then.”

sam.

he acted almost as quick as you did, the moment he saw your eyes fixate on his lips and lean in, he wasted no time to fill in the gap between you two.

“you kissed me.” he says, face washed in amusement and adrenaline. he remains a solid grip where his hands rest on your lower waist, clear he has no intent on letting you go anytime soon.

“i might’ve.” you murmur, flickering your gaze to and from his. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think—

“are you all shy now? did i make you nervous?” he angles his head to chase your nervously wandering eyes, mischievous grin and tease in his tone. his hand consciously cups the side of your neck, thumb pressing into your jaw to gently force your chin up and maintain eye contact.

you huff, shaking your head. “well, a little! we just kissed!” you try not to sound too whiny—though, the way his grin spreads almost makes you forget that plan.

“aha! i made you nervous! am i so handsome? am i such a good kisser?” he muses, snickering in triumph.

“sam,” you test, narrowing your eyes through your eyelashes.

“what? you dunno know the answer? wanna kiss again to find out?”

shane.

he didn’t actually think you’d lean in, much less keep it going for so long that he’d have to push against you a moment later to give him a second to breathe.

but you shake your head, misinterpreting it all so quickly. “i’m sorry—i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have kissed you, i don’t know why i did that, i’m sorry—“

“whoa, i wasn’t pushin’ you away,” he immediately rouses, “i’m not mad that you kissed me.” and he snickers lowly, “more like pounced on me.”

“you’re not?” you hum breathlessly, straightening your pants and tucking pieces of your hair back. now your chest bubbles with a new kind of embarrassment. you nibble on your lower lip, attempting to ease your breaths. “i—i dunno why i did that. i don’t usually drink…much less makeout with people while i do.”

you slouch back down on the old, creaky dock next to him. he snorts, tilting his head, “‘m just too irresistible, huh?”

you shoot him a glower. “yeah,” you say like it’s sarcastic, but really, you’re well aware you aren’t drunk enough to start behaving irrationally. “i just didn’t mean to do that.”

“i don’t mind that you kissed me.” he shrugs.

you watch as he takes a swig from his beer can. his eyes focus on the overall still lake in front of you both. “you don’t?”

he almost wants to tease you for all your disbeliefs. he chooses to scoff out a laugh instead, shaking his head. “mm-mm.”

you turn to face the water, gently swinging your dangling legs over the edge. “hm,” you hum back, “maybe we should talk about that when we’re both sober.”

sebastian.

he’s borderline shocked at how easy it was for him to kiss you back—no hesitation after your fingers brushed the back of his hair to pull him in. he’s almost loopy, too, and he’s never been the type to swoon so hard from these kinds of affections. but he’s also learned a lot has changed since he first met you.

“you taste like cigarettes.” you murmur as you step back, licking your lower lip as if to repeat the taste. you turn towards the city lights, and for the first time he’s finding it nearly impossible to follow your gaze.

“i’m sorry,” he truthfully says, absentmindedly stepping down on the previously tossed cigarette butt at his shoe. “i’ve been trying to stop.”

“tastes like you, too. mixed in, i guess.” you note with a smile, “it’s not terrible though. but good, you should try and quit.”

he honestly doesn’t know how to take that—in his mind, he can’t imagine that tastes good, much less the combination any glorious. yet you turn to him again, stuffed hands unfolding from your pockets to reach across for his.

all you had to do was to give him a tiny tug, sliding your hands up his shoulders before he repositioned his own back to where they previously sat on your waist.

“let me bask it in while i can, though.”

alex.

you’ve almost never seen him with this soft, content look on his face. you’re half expecting him to burst into laughter, try to justify his actions with a teasing lilt and offer to pretend like it never happened.

but no. all he does is look at you, watching the way your eyes shift between each of his, evaluating. like he’s waiting for one of you to break.

you take the bait. “why’d you do that?” you murmur, quiet enough the wind almost picks it up.

he shrugs. “i dunno. it felt right.” he hums, and despite his uncertain words, he says it with sincerity. “was that the wrong choice?”

you think for a moment. for you, you surely thought about it for weeks. but the timing certainly didn’t feel appropriate. vulnerability changes a man like him most of all, and the last thing you’d want to do was take advantage of that. you absentmindedly swirl the grains of sand under your fingertips.

“no, i don’t think so.” you respond easily.

he nods. you’ve never seen him this quiet, but despite that, you’ve got an idea of what’s exactly going through his mind. when he turns away, you’re certain.

“you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“of course not.”

elliott.

he had almost forgotten why he invited you over—just for inspiration on the last couple chapters of his novel, or did he honestly plan for it to go like this?

“so…what happens after they…kiss?” you coyly murmur, still held in his embrace so close you can smell the drop of pomegranate on his lips.

“well, i haven’t written that far just yet,” he pauses to take a breath, “i was hoping they’d finally confess their love.”

he’s so handsome this close, your head still reels and lips feel fuzzy as you struggle to bring back in your even breaths.

you nod, slow and computing. “yeah—no, that sounds good.”

your plump lips hold him in a trance, as do his, making it so hard to concentrate on his words all the while you feel you’re too fixated on them.

“so you believe they love each other? that they should finally tell the other?”

the kiss rendered you thoughtless—what can you expect from a romantic like him? however, the metaphor is not lost on you. and had he let you go at this point, it wouldn’t have been so easy for you to eagerly nod, “absolutely. two people in love should tell each other they’re in love.”

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soaps-mohawk · 1 year ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”

“Good.”

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”

“Oh? How so?”

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”

“We’re doing our best.”

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.

Tattoos.

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.

He has a point.

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.

Don’t back down.

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.

“It’s his fault.” You murmur.

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours.

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”

You nod. “Ozone.”

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.

“Why not?” She asks.

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.

That word again.

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.

Ask for one thing that you want.

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.

You could ask for something that’s not material.

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.

You can want this.

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.

You want this.

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

This isn’t a want.

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.

“Come in.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.

You’re going to be the death of him.

NEXT ->

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #john price x reader #captain price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

4K notes · View notes

covenofagatha · 3 months ago

Note

heyyy, could you maybe write an agatha x reader piece where reader is innocent and agatha takes advantage of that? praising her, showing her new things, etc. Maybe from school or doctor environment. Thanks!

I've been really into manipulative Professor Agatha lately

Sex Ed

During a make-up exam for Professor Harkness's Sexual Education class, she helps you out when you don't know a few answers

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: virgin/naive reader, praise kink, manipulative Agatha, dub-con, fingering

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn

This is possibly the worst time you could’ve gotten a cold.

Three weeks into your first semester of college, classes had just begun picking up in terms of workload, most of your professors were giving the first exam, and you had forgotten to bring a jacket the one day it poured during a cold spell and you had to walk almost a mile in it back to your house, where you lived with your mom. Her house was so close to campus that most of the time you didn’t bother driving.

You had walked through the front door that day, shivering and shaking and soaked and your mom had taken one good look at you and said, “You’re going to get sick.”

And she sure was right. The next day, you woke up and felt like you were clinging to life by a thread: your throat ached, your head felt full, and your lungs hurt. Your fever made you bury under three blankets and then strip down to practically nothing the next minute. It was hell.

Not to mention, you missed four days of classes. In most of them, you just needed to get notes from a classmate, but in Sexual Education, you had missed a test.

Sexual Education, taught by Professor Agatha Harkness, is your least favorite class. You hadn’t taken it in middle or high school as your mom hadn’t let you, so you had to take it in college. There was something about the subject that made you squirm, and the way Professor Harkness talked about sex, so blatantly and forward, that made your stomach get a weird feeling.

You had emailed her and told her that you wouldn’t be able to take the exam because you were sick, attaching the doctor’s note and everything, and she had replied almost immediately, telling you to just see her during office hours whenever you could to make it up. She ended it with Feel better, honey ;) and for some reason, that made you get the same sensation in your gut as you did in her class.

The following Monday was when you decided to make it up. You had replied to her email and asked, and she told you that day was perfect.

You did feel better, and you had tried to study. The test is on anatomy and sexual intercourse, and although you kept having to take breaks because it kept making you uncomfortable, you had gotten through all the material.

But now, as you trudge across campus, a cough still tickling your throat every now and then, you wonder if there’s any way to postpone the make-up even more. Nerves have settled into your body and you’re worried your mind is going to go blank. Test anxiety has always been something you’ve struggled with, and you think that with the sensitive nature of the test, you might be especially prone to it now.

The blinds are drawn on Professor Harkness’s door to her office when you get there, so you knock as to not catch her unaware. You hear a faint “Come in!” and you push open the door and step inside.

Your professor is sitting at her desk, a pair of big, black glasses resting on her nose, and she looks up at you from a paper she’s been writing on.

“Feeling better, sweetheart?” She asks.

You nod. “Much better, thank you. I’m here to take the exam that I missed?”

A smile slowly spreads across her face and she waves you forward. Your shoes pad lightly on the carpeted floor, one step for three beats of your heart. You wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt and you sit down in the chair facing her.

She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a packet of paper, handing it to you over the desk. You swallow roughly when you feel how many pages there are. It makes your heart sink when you see lines on the first page, meaning that it’s not multiple choice either. It already has your name on it, like she made it just for you.

“I have to write a harder test for the make-ups,” she explains, seeing your troubled look. Is that supposed to make you feel better? “It’s to discourage people from skipping the exam the first time and getting answers from friends or anything.”

It makes sense, it really does. But you had a legit excuse as to why you couldn’t take it. There’s no use arguing though, so you give her a tight smile and look down at the paper.

How does the body respond to sexual arousal, and what are the physiological changes that occur?

You rack your brain, searching for anything you remember about this, but there’s nothing. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you skip and move onto the next one.

2. What happens during an orgasm?

You look at the next one.

3. What is the role of lubrication?

You don’t remember reading anything about that or even Professor Harkness saying anything about that.

Skip.

There’s nothing in your brain about the next question either. Visibly getting flustered now, you frantically flip through the pages of the exam to find a question that you do know, ignoring the stinging sensation in your eyes.

Finally, at the bottom of the third page, you find one. Incidentally, the last question of the test.

7. How does the sperm fertilize an egg?

You breathe a sigh of relief and scribble down the answer, and with renowned confidence, you find at least a few things you’re able to write for the three questions in the middle.

Feeling pretty good now, you go back to the start, and then you realize you just have the first three left, but they’re worth the most amount of points. The sinking feeling starts to come back. The other questions are worth ten points each. These are worth twenty. If you don’t answer, you are going to fail.

“Professor?” You rasp, having no other option to ask for help. “I’m having some trouble on a few of these questions. I don’t remember you saying anything about some of this stuff.”

Professor Harkness frowns and leans over to look at your paper. “Which ones?”

“Um, the ones about arousal, and lubrication, and orgasms,” you say, voice dropping to a whisper like it’s too embarrassing to say any louder. “You never said anything about it in class, unless I missed it while I was sick.” Even then, you poured over the slideshows she posted, and you swear you didn’t see anything about those terms.

Professor Harkness lounges back in her chair and fixes you with a certain look. “I didn’t necessarily say anything about those, but you should be able to infer based on your own experiences.”

And that makes your cheeks heat up. “Well, I, um–” You stutter, completely flustered.

“Ah,” she says, like she’s had a realization, and your eyes flit to hers. “Are you a virgin, honey?”

You nod hesitantly, feeling shame burn through you. Now you’re going to fail the test because of your lack of experience. “I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“Oh, sweetie,” Professor Harkness coos and reaches her arms out across the desk, palms outstretched. You blink back tears and take her hands and she squeezes in reassurance. “Don’t ever apologize for that. I shouldn’t have assumed. Here, why don’t I give you a quick lesson to make it more fair for you, hm?”

“That would be so great, thank you so much!” You exclaim gratefully.

Professor Harkness smiles, although there’s something dangerous behind it, and she gets up out of her chair. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on my desk?”

It’s a bit of a weird request, but she’s already helping you out so much that you don’t argue. You sit on her desk and she places her hands on your knees to gently spread your legs apart so she can stand in-between them.

“Have you ever touched yourself before?” She asks gently and you shake your head, upset. She tilts your chin up and then strokes a piece of hair behind your ears. “Hey, it’s okay. It can be hard to figure these things out by yourself. And I’m sure the slideshows and text, books and my lectures aren’t helping much either,” she jokes and you giggle. “Why don’t I give you more of a hands-on lesson? Some people learn a lot better that way.”

Your brows furrow. “What about the exam?”

Professor Harkness nods. “Don’t worry. Let me teach you some things and this should be able to answer those questions you were having. Now, I just need you to be a good girl and relax for me, okay?”

“Okay, Professor,” you agree, but stiffen when her hands start to slide up your thighs. She pauses and moves them back down and repeats, each time getting a little higher up.

Something is happening in your stomach, a heat is growing, a little like what happens when you’re in her class, but stronger than it ever has been. You suddenly feel like you’re running hot. Has the fever come back?

Your professor is watching you carefully, a slight smile on her lips. “The first step in the physiological process of an orgasm is excitement. During this stage, arousal builds. Pupils dilate. Heart rate and breathing rate increase. Your blood pressure rises, making you feel warm.”

“I think that’s happening to me, Professor,” you say faintly and she chuckles.

“I would say so, honey. And you can call me Agatha,” she tells you and the feeling inside you only gets worse. “Lubrication should be starting right about now.”

You gasp when she finally cups you over your underwear and your hips instinctively buck. You’ve never had anyone’s hand there, not even your own, and the sensation is indescribable.

Agatha is fully smirking now, rubbing up and down the fabric. You can feel how sticky it is, just from her light touches. “You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl. You’re almost in the plateau phase. Your vagina is getting swollen, your clitoris is becoming sensitive–” She rubs at a small circle towards the top of your vagina, you remember seeing a diagram of it, and it makes you keen. “–and you’re going to just keep getting wetter.”

There’s a fire inside you now, flames licking up your stomach into your ribs and spreading throughout your whole body. It feels like there’s an ache inside you and you just need more. “Agatha,” you gasp. “I need–” You don’t even have the words to explain it.

But she knows. She slides your panties to the side and swipes through your folds and then holds her glistening fingers up to the light so you can see. It takes your breath away.

“The role of lubrication,” she references the question you didn’t know, her hand dropping back down between your legs and toying at your entrance. “is simply to reduce friction, discomfort, and pain during sex.”

And then she pushes a finger into you and you make a strangled sound. She feels so good and when she curls her finger up and rubs against something, you clench around her and make another explicit noise.

She chuckles and presses on it again, enjoying the way you jump. “That’s your G-spot right there. Extra credit if you mention that on your exam,” she says with a grin and you’d make a note of that if there were any thoughts left in your head.

Agatha pauses for a second after she pulls out of you and you whine, before it quickly turns into a gasp when she slides two fingers in. It burns and you whimper, your hands scrambling to grab on her shoulders and cling to her while she gently works to stretch you out with shallow thrusts.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” she purrs. “Such a good girl for me, my best student. Look at how well you’re taking this lesson. So perfect.”

You preen and when she rubs her thumb against your clit, she’s slowly able to slide her two fingers into you. The feeling of fullness is just what you need right now, and even though you’re incredibly tight around her, it still feels so much better than anything you’ve ever felt.

Agatha starts lazily dragging her fingers against your walls, in and out, occasionally twisting and making your hips roll. You’re holding onto her body, panting into her neck, and the tension inside you is building.

“If only you knew how pretty you look right now,” she mutters, now picking up to a faster pace. Each thrust leaves you breathless and you can hardly comprehend what she’s saying. She circles your clit and you cry out with pleasure. “You’re so innocent, I see you squirming in your seat every time I talk about sex.” That makes you flush with heat even more. “Look at you now, honey. Taking my fingers like a good girl.”

You gasp out something incoherent and she starts to pump her fingers harder. You’re throbbing and pulsing around her, pleasure starting to spread from your stomach to the rest of your body and you don’t know how much more you can take.

She smiles when you moan her name. “You’re about to be in the orgasm phase. Your pelvic muscles will contract, and your vaginal walls will tighten. There will be an increase in lubrication and your heart rate will get even faster. It will feel euphoric.”

It’s happening, you can feel it. “Agatha, please,” you groan and she twists her fingers inside you.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” she says and the pleasure explodes inside you, the release of the tension overwhelming you and making your mind go completely blank for a minute. You can barely feel Agatha’s fingers still inside you, gently stroking against your inner walls until you come down from your high, and while it still feels amazing, you’re incredibly sensitive now.

“Agatha,” you groan and she chuckles before pulling her fingers out of you, making you wince. They’re absolutely soaked and she pops them into her mouth to clean them and your jaw drops open.

She moans at the taste and sits back down in her chair, putting her hands above her head and nodding at your test that’s still sitting there. “You should have no trouble finishing now,” she says and you swallow hard before getting off her desk and going around it to take your seat.

You pick up your pen and begin writing, trying to ignore how you can still feel Agatha’s fingers inside you.

And Agatha? Agatha smirks to herself, still tasting you on her tongue, knowing that she got exactly what she wanted just by making a few well picked-out questions worth a few more points.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along #covsfics #sex ed

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hyunebunx · 2 months ago

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˖˙ ᰋ ── our firsts (the one in which hyunjin can't wait to kiss you)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i've had this one stare at me for months until i finally got around to finishing it recently. i feel kinda rusty but i hope you'll still enjoy it <3

The thrill of a new relationship was exhilarating, full of euphoria and colorful, restless butterflies that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. Your relationship with Hyunjin was fresh, in more ways than one. You’ve never experienced such intense feelings before, a bond so genuine and invigorating.

You were taking it slow and steady, discovering more of each other with every interaction. How he smelled, how he smiled when he was truly happy, eyes turning into two crescent moons, how he hugged you in greeting, a little tighter each time.

Hyunjin was made of layers you had to contain yourself from peeling all at once, afraid your eagerness would scare him off for good. Kind, compassionate, and with a heart of gold, your new lover was everything you could ever ask for in a partner.

Every new side of him, you haven’t experienced before, was endearing. How his fingers held onto yours, leisurely, before intertwining them when he needed to feel you closer, palm to palm. How his touch lingered on your cheek, slowly trailing down your jaw and neck, almost like he was preparing to kiss you. Which hasn’t happened yet, unfortunately, almost a month into your relationship.

A part of you was disappointed, there was no denying it. But at the same time, you knew his affection was going to be worth the wait. After all, there was no rush, you had all the time in the world.

Tonight was another one of your firsts – the first movie night at your apartment. A comfortable date night spent by the TV, with some good food, a great show, and even better company. An amazing plan in both of your books, your introverted natures meshing together quite lovely.

“Hi, beautiful.” He greets the moment he’s let in, voice soft and tender, smiling brightly as he leans down to kiss the side of your head, spreading his warmth throughout your whole body.

You watch him remove his shoes, placing them neatly by the door before you pull him into a hug by his opened hoodie. Your arms go around his middle while your head rests on his chest. “Hi.”

Hyunjin relaxes in an instant, returning the embrace and squeezing you tighter, as expected. “I – “ You can hear the hesitation in his voice, mulling over his next words as if letting them out would somehow change everything. “I missed you.” He whispers, shy as his face finds solace in your hair.

Flowers bloom in your chest, heart pounding against its enclosure at an alarming pace he was sure to feel resonating through his body. But that was okay because his own was responding in kind. “I missed you too.”

“I’m glad.” Hyunjin says with a little more confidence, finally pulling away and allowing you to see his beautiful face.

You weren’t usually this straightforward, navigating this relationship with as much care as possible, so his boldness was a little surprising. But not unpleasant, if anything you couldn’t wait for him to open up more, to fully bloom into himself around you.

Taking his hand in yours, you then lead him into the living room that has been awaiting his arrival with bated breath, everything set up for your comfort.

You make small talk, asking about each other’s day and what the other has been up to since the last time you met, a week ago. It’s peaceful, the atmosphere light and comfortable as you drift toward one another without much thought, sides pressed together as you browse the selection of movies.

“What do you feel like watching?” You ask, facing him.

Hyunjin shrugs, leaning back into his seat, one of his arms thrown over the couch behind you. “Whatever your precious heart desires.”

Said heart flutters, thumping a little too loudly at being acknowledged in such a way. “The Notebook?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling into two crescents. “Do you want to see me cry? Is that why I was invited over?”

“We can cry together.” You offer, smiling. “I’ve been wanting to watch this one with you for a long time.”

“Why?” He tilts his head, eyes full of fondness as his ears gradually redden. You both knew what the movie was about and the passionate scenes that were sure to have you squirming in your seats, too shy for your own good.

“Because it’s the epitome of romance and true love!”

Hyunjin is beaming, chuckling lowly at the slight pout on your lips that has him give in instantly. “Alright then. Can’t wait to have my heart ripped out of my chest!”

You shake your head, passing him the remote before standing up to get the food you prepared in advance. “That won’t happen while I’m here.”

“Why? You’re going to put it back together?” He teases, neck craned to look after you like a man enthralled.

“Always.”

You don’t notice the surprise that takes over his features as he’s already sporting a smile when you return, handing him a plate before settling next to him, farther than before to ensure there’s enough space to make eating comfortable.

With the lights dimmed, your movie night starts uneventfully, with little to no talking since you’re both too focused on your food to multitask. But little by little, you’re scooting closer, wanting to feel each other’s warmth and hear the unspoken words of affection neither was brave enough to say out loud.

“I’ve drawn this scene before.” Hyunjin murmurs just as you move to snuggle into his chest, instantly accommodating you with one arm draped over your shoulders bringing you closer as if he’s been waiting for this moment. You settle into his embrace like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and not your actual first time cuddling with him like this. Another milestone in your new relationship leaving its mark, a welcomed guest whose sole purpose was to ensure neither strayed away from the path of true love.

“Really?” You tear your gaze from the television just as the characters begin playing around with their ice creams, laughing and being silly before it quiets down as their lips meet over and over again. “You’ve drawn them making out?”

Hyunjin is mesmerized by the faint sparkle in your eyes as he looks down at you, the light from the television caressing your side profile tenderly while not concealing any of your beauty. He’s silent for a few seconds more before his eyes drop to your glossy lips and he can’t help but lick his own, inhaling sharply. “No.” A laugh escapes him against his will, still distracted. “The scene right after.”

You quirk an eyebrow, bravely reaching out to trace his sharp jawline, just as distracted. “What’s so great about that scene? Wouldn’t you have rather captured the climax?”

He leans into your touch, eyelids suddenly heavy as they struggle to keep blinking and not give in to his desires. With great difficulty, Hyunjin feels around for the remote, subsequently pulling you closer as he fast-forwards the movie to the scene of interest, your chest brushing against his while both of your legs slip into the space between his.

Then, with the utmost gentleness, his fingers settle on your chin and move your head towards the screen, silver rings cold against your heated skin. Hyunjin paused the movie at the perfect time—the girl is smiling from ear to ear while her boyfriend nuzzles her cheek, smothering her with endless affection.

“I wanted to capture the genuine happiness on their faces. People are even more beautiful when they’re in love. Just look at them – they’re glowing.”

But by now, you’re back to looking at him, burning the image of his side profile with all of his beauty marks to memory for safekeeping. “So are you.”

Slowly, Hyunjin meets your eyes, releasing your chin. “What?”

“You also glow when you talk about something you’re passionate about. Something you love.”

He’s taken aback, you can tell by the way his eyes widen slightly, mouth parting as he searches for the right words to respond. You’re so close you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he shallows, memorize the way his chest moves up and down with every breath that hits your face.

In this moment, the only ones who matter are you and him.

“You think so?”

“I know so. After all, I’m always watching you when we’re together.”

Hyunjin stills, and so do you as the meaning behind your confession hits you both at the same time.

“That’s impossible.” He eventually shakes his head, tucking some hair behind your ear as his voice drops. “I can never seem to be able to look away when you’re nearby. I would have noticed.”

“Like I notice everything about you.”

His touch is tender, so featherlight that if you weren’t hyper-aware of everything involving him, you wouldn’t have felt it. Hyunjin leans closer, brushing his nose against yours and smiling once your breath hitches. “The way your whole face lights up when someone tells a joke.” Nimble fingers caress your face, eyes staring past your exterior in search of the heart you’ve already presented to him on the shiniest silver platter.

“How you hold my hand a little tighter whenever you’re really happy.” He continues, said hand moving to cradle the back of your head.

“I only get that happy when I’m with you.” You breathe out, allowing your hands to rest on his chest, not looking away in fear of missing the feelings showcased all over his face, ones he still hasn’t found the courage to speak out loud.

Hyunjin looks like he wants to continue, but his eyes keep dropping to your lips, his own inching closer but not close enough to meet yet, silently waiting for your next move. For your approval, your comfort above anything else in the world for him.

When you do the same, your arms wrapping around his neck, he finally caves in.

It’s soft, his plump lips enveloping yours in the sweetest kiss you’ve ever tasted. The ever-patient man takes his time, melting against you as his other hand gently grasps your chin to keep you in place, bringing you close almost like he wants to merge souls.

The only thing you can hear in the quiet apartment is your heart pounding – or maybe it's his? Nobody knows where you end and he starts anymore, intertwined as you get lost in each other. You’ve wanted this for so long, daydreamed about it for hours on end and you’re happy to realize it’s so much better than anything your mind could ever come up with.

A little too soon after, Hyunjin pulls away, blinking as if he just woke up from a daze. His hand drops from your chin, finding solace on your waist as your eyes engage in a silent conversation your mouths couldn’t keep up.

Unfortunately for him, you’re impatient, so after making sure his lungs are filled with the needed air, you make your move, kissing him again. A quiet gasp escapes him as he falls backwards on the couch, cushioning your fall with his strong body, the corners of his mouth curling into an uncontrollable smile against your lips.

Kissing Hyunjin isn’t like anything you’ve experienced before. It’s electric and warm, something out of a movie, like fireworks going off on new years or witnessing flowers bloom for the first time in spring. An out of body experience that transports you to cloud nine the moment you touch him, the moment his hands make contact with any part of your body and leave behind sparks meant to keep everyone else that isn’t him away.

On top of him, you try to hold yourself up with your hands on his chest but he refuses, his arm around your middle keeping you flush against him as his lips teach yours a new dance. You have two left feet but somehow, Hyunjin makes it all seem easy, comfortable, and right like kissing him is an activity you’ve been doing for as long as you can remember.

When you pull away to breathe, he comes back to peck your puffy lips, one, two, and then three times before he’s grinning from ear to ear, the sight blinding your eyes that have gotten used to the darkness around for all of these years.

“Sorry.” He giggles sheepishly when it dawns on him his arm is still preventing you from moving. “I’ve just been waiting a lifetime to do this. I didn’t want it to end so soon.”

By now, your poor heart is nothing more than a puddle, leaking through your whole body and painting your insides in the color of the love that always seemed to overwhelm you, the feelings you could only thank him for. The love that had his name written in every nook and cranny of your existence, the one that marked and has changed you for the better in such a short amount of time.

You could spend a lifetime loving Hwang Hyunjin. And that’s exactly what you planned on doing.

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aleskie · 1 month ago

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hii!! hope you’re having a week day, i was wondering if you could write max verstappen angst after 2021 baku dnf?

HIIIII ANON! I actually don't remember what the lore with baku 2021 was ajnskskj so i hope you like this general DNF comfort fic instead MWAH

WHY DOES SHE GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME | Max Verstappen x Reader

SUMMARY: Max is a winner. But when it comes crashing down, you've got him.

Warnings: None. Hurt with comfort!

He doesn’t say anything when he comes back home — just closes the door a little harsher than usual and heads straight to the terrace after making himself a gin and tonic. He needs to calm down. You know that. You don’t follow him right away. You give him space.

Max was a champion. He won. That’s what he did, what he was born to do, what he was trained to become. Losing took a toll on him — whether it was a DNF or finishing out of the points. It never felt good. But there were things to learn from it, things to improve on. Both on his end as a driver and with the constructor’s team for the car. He could live with that.

But having a car malfunction? Not finishing the race? And when you were in second place? That hurt. That really hurt.

The sun is sinking lower, casting long shadows across the terrace as he sips his drink. The ice clinks softly against the glass. It’s calming, a familiar ritual — but you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw stays tight. There’s a lot on his mind. What he could’ve done better. Where he’d be in the championship if he’d won. The what-ifs, the could-have-beens.

You watch him from the doorway for a moment before stepping outside. You don’t say anything. You just sit beside him, quiet and steady, while the sky turns gold and the weight of disappointment settles with the evening breeze.

“I hate myself,” he says, taking another sip from his drink. His words are slurred just enough to tell you he’s a little tipsy — no surprise, considering the drink he poured earlier was mostly gin with just the barest splash of tonic. “I’m a fucking loser. I lost.”

“Don’t say that,” you reply softly, keeping your voice gentle. “The car malfunctioned. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Was it not?” He lets out a sharp, bitter laugh and takes another swig. “I can drive bad cars. I’ve done it before. I’ve pushed them to their limits and I made it work—I made it win. But I couldn’t drive this one? Couldn’t win in it? Fucking pathetic.”

You want to reach for his hand, but you don’t. Not yet. You know that right now, he’s fighting a battle in his own head — one you can’t quite pull him out of. So you stay close, your voice steady even when his isn’t.

“You’re not pathetic,” you say quietly. “You’re one of the best drivers in the world. Four championships, Maxie—that’s nothing to scoff at.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” he mutters, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The sunset’s almost gone now, the sky bleeding into deeper shades of blue and orange. “Feels like I’m just…wasting everyone’s time. Wasting my time. Wasting yours.”

The ice clinks again as he lifts the glass, and for a second, you wish the drink would run out. But you know the problem isn’t the gin. It’s everything that’s come before it — the pressure, the expectation, the disappointment.

“You’re not wasting anything—especially not my time or my energy,” you say. “You had a bad day. That’s all it was.”

He shakes his head. “It’s never just one day. It’s every day that comes after it, every chance that slips away. And I—” His voice breaks, just for a second, before he swallows it down with the rest of his drink. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

That’s when you reach for his hand. And this time, he lets you.

“That’s fine too.” You plant a kiss on the back of his hand. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“But I do.” He pulls his hand away and runs it through his hair. “I have to prove it. To the team. To the fans. To dad. To you—”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

He finally looks at you, and it’s worse than you expected. His eyes are red-rimmed, his face drawn tight with exhaustion and frustration and something deeper—something you don’t know how to fix.

“Don’t I?” he whispers. His voice is so quiet, but the weight of those words hangs heavy between you. “You think you’d still love me if I stopped winning? If I stopped trying?”

“But you aren’t not trying,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “You try your best with everything you do. And that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

He shakes his head, his jaw clenching like he’s holding back something that’s threatening to break free. “No. You love the champion. You love the winner. And that’s not who I am right now. This…this isn’t who you signed up for.”

“Don’t tell me who I love,” you snap, your voice trembling. “And don’t treat this relationship like it’s some kind of contract. I didn’t sign up for anything. I’m here because I want to be. Because I love you. Even now—when you’re hurting, when you’re in pain. I still love you.”

For a second, he just stares at you, and you can see the war happening behind his eyes—the fight between believing you and the doubts that have been eating away at him for weeks. Maybe months.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be good enough for you,” he whispers finally, his voice breaking. “And I want to be. God, I want to be perfect for you. But I…I can’t.”

Your chest aches. That helpless, hollow kind of ache that comes when you want so badly to fix something — someone — and you know you can’t. All you can do is hold his hand tighter, like maybe that will stop him from slipping away completely.

“You are,” you say softly. “You’re perfect. Just like this.”

He closes his eyes, but a tear escapes anyway, sliding down his cheek. He doesn’t wipe it away. “It’s been a tough season,” he murmurs. “The car is fucked. And I—I don’t know how to keep you if I can’t even keep this seat. And I don’t even know who I am without the wins.”

“You’re a four-time world champion,” you remind him, your fingers brushing through his hair. “You’re dragging a seventh-place car to third place. That’s more than enough. You are doing so much—more than anyone should have to.”

You guide his head to rest on your shoulder, feeling the way his breath stutters against your skin. “You can rest for now,” you whisper. “You don’t have to carry all of this alone.”

For the first time that night, his body eases—just a little—against yours. The tension doesn’t vanish, not completely, but you feel the slightest shift, the way his weight leans into you like he’s finally allowing himself to stop holding it all together. And you hold him like you’re trying to keep him from falling apart—like if you hold him tight enough, maybe you can take some of that hurt away.

His breath slows, but every now and then it still catches, like there’s something inside him he can’t quite let go of. You press your lips to his hair, soft and reassuring, and whisper, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says, voice rough and low.

“You do,” you insist. “And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but his fingers tighten around yours. And for now, that’s enough.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fic #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 x reader #✩ allie's writing ✩

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lynnieverse · 2 months ago

Text

like real people do // drew starkey

oneshot

drew stakery x popstar!reader

synopsis: after a little slip up in an interview where you accidentally reveal your celebrity crush, things get a little complicated when someone starts meddling.

4.2k words

highly requested part two here!

You knew doing the interview was going to bite you in the ass. Nothing good ever came from distracting you with puppies and asking personal questions. So, when the interviewer innocently asked your celebrity crush, you didn’t hesitate to say Drew Starkey. It didn’t hit you until afterward, sitting in the back of your car, debriefing with your assistant.

“I can’t believe you said your celebrity crush though,” she said, eyebrows raised. Your heart stutters a bit and you quickly whip your head towards her.

“No I didn’t.”

“Um…yeah, you did.” Panic spiked through your veins, sweat beading on your brow.

“Oh shit. Oh shit! Amara, tell me I didn’t say who I’m thinking of,” you grip her arm tightly, eyes pleading. Amara winces and looks at you with what could only be pity. “No!”

Madelyn was going to kill you.

You met Madelyn Cline a few months ago at the People’s Choice Awards when you were presenting. You’d instantly clicked and made plans to hang out the next week. Everything was going really great, and you were doing a good job at keeping your little crush a secret. Now, it’ll come out, be circulated everywhere online, and Madelyn’s going to think you’re some crazy stalker. How would she react to you having a crush on her co-star? Definitely not well.

Amara places a comforting hand on your shoulder, smiling sympathetically. “It’s okay, Y/N, it’s just a silly interview. Nobody will take it seriously.”

“Everyone will take it seriously! I don’t know why I started fraternizing with actors, I need to stick to my lane.”

“Hey, why don’t you write a song about it? It might help.” You thought about it for a moment, feeling the familiar bubble of lyrics tickling the back of your mind. Writing always helps you calm down, maybe putting the feelings on paper would make them go away.

As the car stopped in front of your hotel, flashes from the paparazzi’s cameras were bright even through the tinted windows. You sigh and grab a jacket, wrapping it around your head like a shield, and wait for security to open the door. You ignore the loud shouting as you dash inside, closely followed by Amara and the rest of the crew. Inside isn’t much better, but at least the other guests have the decency to leave you alone for now.

You sometimes feel bad, often making it up later by signing a bunch of autographs outside, but right now you’re exhausted and embarrassed. The interview threw off your whole day, and you just want to lay in bed and watch trashy reality television.

Your security escorts you to the elevator, and then does a sweep of your room before eventually leaving. Finally alone, you put on your rattiest and comfiest pajamas, take off all your makeup, and throw your hair up before jumping in bed. You reach for the remote to start your aforementioned binge, but hesitate over the little purple notebook you carry everywhere. Sighing, you know you won’t be able to relax without getting it all out. You dig through your bag and find a glittery pink pen, uncapping it with your teeth and getting to work.

You’ve never met Drew, not once, but something about him just had you giggling like a schoolgirl. Witnessing his kindness through your constant internet stalking quickly proved to be a bad idea, because now you have a big fat crush on the man and he doesn’t even know you exist.

Well that’s not true. Everyone knows you exist, but he would never think of you that way. Dating as a popular musician was not as easy as one might think, it’s often too much for people. The words start flowing with ease, filling up the cream pages in no time.

Gleaming

Twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships

On waters so inviting

I almost jump in

His eyes really are beautiful. So blue, so warm. But the feelings you have aren’t logical, and they’re so exhausting.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

He’s the internet's boyfriend right now, edits flying around like crazy. You know dozens of people back home who are definitely salivating over this man. Something about him…you can’t put your finger on it.

What must it be like

To grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominos

Every silly thought you’d ever had poured out onto the page. By the time you were finished you knew it was a hit. Grabbing your guitar you make a split second decision to tease your fans a bit. Unlocking your phone, you quickly open Instagram and go live before you can stop yourself. Your face pops up on the screen, thousands of people already in and commenting.

“Hey guys! I just finished a new song and wanted to play a little for you if that’s alright?” You smirk, knowing the answer already. Of course, everyone starts freaking out and flooding the comments with different affirmations and emojis. You laugh, loving every second of it, before strumming the beginning chords on your guitar.

As you start singing you let your eyes close, feeling each note in your soul, pressing every callus on your worn fingertips. The pacing is a little rough, still getting the hang of the new melody, but you know as soon as you finish that you killed it. So many fans are expressing their love for the song, already asking for it to be out on streaming platforms. Others are curious as to who your muse is, throwing out the wildest guesses you’d ever seen.

“Chace Crawford?!” you exclaim, face contorted in surprise. “Y’all have a distorted sense of my ability to pull these men,” you laugh in disbelief. Your heart skips a beat when a couple comments actually guess correctly, but don’t react, knowing every single microexpression is analyzed.

“Alright guys, I think I’m going to eat myself into a sugar coma while watching Love Island, but thank you for listening! I’m glad you enjoyed the song,” you wink to the camera before waving and closing the app. Covering your face with your hands, you fall backwards on the bed, letting your guitar rest beside you. You don’t even want to check social media, already knowing screen recordings of the live will be everywhere.

Sometimes it’s crazy to think this many people care about your day to day life. The art you create touches lives across the globe. It’s both amazing and terrifying at the same time.

Not wanting to start an existential crisis on a random Tuesday night, you quickly turn on your show and cuddle up under the duvet.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

By the weekend the interview was everywhere. You’ve stayed out of it, going pretty much radio silent in response. Many are asking if you’re secretly dating, if you were going to write a song for the new season of Outer Banks, if Drew felt the same way…it’s insane.

You’d purposely put off talking to Madelyn out of sheer embarrassment. That man was like her brother and you admitted to liking him. Still, it’s time to address the issue head on, so you dial her number shakily. The phone rings three times before she answers, a sweet greeting sounding through the speakers.

“Y/N?” You clear your throat, reluctant to speak.

“Hey…” You wince at how rough your voice sounds, facepalming at your own awkwardness.

“What’s up, girl?” Madelyn sounds normal, but you know she has to be weirded out by you.

“Um, nothing much, just wanted to talk to you about something I may have said recently.”

“Is this about the puppy interview?”

“Yes?” Your voice comes out squeaky, nose scrunched. But Madelyn just starts laughing. You stare at your phone in confusion. What the hell?

“I can’t believe you finally admitted it, and during an interview? That was ballsy as hell!” You slowly start to regain your breath, brain processing her words.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” she snorts.

“I didn’t want you to think I was using you to get to him.”

“Are you?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Okay then, there’s no problem.” A breath of relief escapes, and you put a hand on your chest. She’s not mad.

“Thank you so much for understanding, I really love our friendship.”

“Me too,” Mads says sincerely. “Now we just have to figure out how to get you two together!”

Your eyes widen. “What? Absolutely not. This was not an invitation for you to play matchmaker, Mads.”

“Aw man, why not? I could literally get you both in the same room tonight.” Your heart starts beating out of your chest, feeling more anxiety talking about this than being on any stage.

“He’s probably seen the interview by now, it’s so embarrassing!”

“It’s not embarrassing, Y/N. You’re attracted to the man, it’s not that crazy of a concept! Just give me a chance, please?”

“Nope. I don’t want to bother him or weird him out. Let’s just do something me and you; are you in L.A.?”

“Ugh, fine. Yes I’m here, just come over whenever.” You can feel her annoyance across the line, but ignore it. You’re not going to let her meddle.

“See you then!” Mads ends the call, sending you back into your shame spiral. Every little thing you do is always picked apart and ridiculed in the media, and you’re usually a lot more careful with what you say. The interview slip up is going to keep you up at night for the rest of your life.

Hours pass waiting for the appropriate time to head over to Madelyn’s house. You decide to dress comfortably, but have your makeup done on the off chance pictures are taken. The drive over is quiet, save for the initial crowd outside your house. How it’s legal for celebrities' addresses to be available on the internet, is something you’ll never understand.

When you pull up you notice a Jeep in her driveway and shake your head. That girl is always spending money. Your phone pings with yet another Twitter update and you roll your eyes. How can this be the most popular thing in the world right now? You glance at the notification and see it’s Drew’s name that’s trending. Huh. Interesting.

You decide to follow your instincts and ignore it, wanting to focus on girls night with Mads. As you approach the porch you find yourself nervous; even though she wasn’t mad, you still feel bad for causing such an uproar around her co-star.

Three knocks later you're waiting outside her front door in anticipation. You find yourself shifting from foot to foot, tracing the cracks in the stonework with your eyes. When the door opens you look up with a smile, expecting Madelyn’s smiling face, only to be met with the very man that had haunted you the past week. You gasp, words catching in your throat as you stare.

Drew was wearing a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair looked freshly cut into a soft mullet, and he looked just as surprised as you do. You can’t seem to close your gaping mouth, a pained sound escaping without realizing.

“Uh, hi,” Drew says sheepishly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Eyes wide, you turn on your heel and speed walk away, leaving him alone in the doorway. You’re fumbling with your keys, cursing under your breath, when you hear a shout from behind you.

“Y/N!”

You almost make it inside your car when an iron grip latches onto your upper arm, yanking you back.

“Hey!” you protest, almost losing your balance as you’re dragged back to Mads’ house.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re not getting away that easily.”

“Madelyn Renee Cline, let me go!” You struggle against her grip, but only cause her nails to dig in deeper.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N, I won’t let you.” She finally stops when you’re once again at the door, but she doesn’t let go. Drew must’ve gone back inside, thank God, but Madelyn is glaring at you.

“Don’t look at me like that! How could you do this to me?” You give her your most withering look. She rolls her eyes at you, only pissing you off more.

“Just talk to him. I promise he doesn’t think you’re weird, or whatever you’ve concocted.”

“Well he might now!”

“That’s your own fault, I can’t believe you ran away,” she snickers, pulling you inside and closing the door. When she finally lets go of your arm, you rub the crescent indentions with a wince. The girl has some nails.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Mads looks taken aback, freezing in place.

“Really?!” You give her a pointed look. “Right, be cool. Okay come on follow me, he went back to the living room.” Reluctantly, you do just that, trailing closely behind her. You’re a ball of nerves, and can already feel your stomach twisting to knots.

Madelyn was right, he was lounging on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. When he hears you two approach, his head shoots up and his back immediately straightens.

“Everything okay?” he asks, voice smooth and melodic. Your cheeks warm, and you avoid eye contact as much as possible.

“Um, yeah. I just–you know.” You jab your thumb back awkwardly, not even you know what you’re trying to say. But Drew cracks a smile, looking at you fondly and nodding along, as if you make perfect sense.

Madelyn’s eyes flit between you with a wide smile on her face. Not knowing what else to do, you sit down on the couch, as far away from him as possible, and stare straight ahead. Silence ensues, and you have absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. Thankfully, Madelyn breaks the silence.

“So…want to watch a movie?”

“Yes!” You and Drew speak at the same time, causing you to stare at each other shyly. Madelyn smirks and comes around the couch, forcefully sitting between you and the arm rest. You shoot her a what the fuck look and she simply shrugs.

“I like the armrest! Scooch.” Begrudgingly, you inch closer to Drew, who pretends not to notice the entire exchange. As soon as you're settled you sit pin straight, not wanting to breach the confines of your cushion. Drew’s left ankle is resting comfortably on his knee, arm thrown over the side of the couch in what seems to be a very relaxing position. Mads rolls her eyes and pulls out an ottoman, giving you something to stretch your feet out on so you can lean back.

It takes forever to pick a movie, suspiciously so, but it’s Madelyn’s house and you’re not going to say anything. Once she finally picks Avatar, she dims the lights from her phone and the three of you settle in for what’s going to be a weird couple hours.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Everything was going fine, until suddenly Madelyn got tired at nine and decided to go to bed…leaving you and Drew alone. You mentally cursed your friend for putting you in this position, obviously not listening to the blanket “no matchmaking” statement from before.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye and find him already looking at you. He quickly looked away and started tapping his fingers on his knee nervously. The movie had long since been forgotten and no words had been exchanged.

“So…” you manage, turning to face him slowly. He smiles at you, running a hand through his hair and making his bicep flex. Your stomach does a little flip flop and your face reddens at where your mind went. Drew smirks like he knows exactly what just happened, but doesn’t comment.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” His voice, oh my God. “I’m Drew, it’s nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand to shake, and you clumsily take it, feeling the warmth envelop your palm immediately.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too,” you smile, swallowing the anxiety.

“I’m a fan of your work, actually, you’re really good.”

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “You listen to my songs?” Drew laughs and shakes his head, shooting you a look you don’t quite understand.

“Are you being serious?” he leans forward a bit, surprise evident on his face. You scrunch your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re easily the most popular musician of our generation and you don’t think I listen to your music?” You find yourself blushing, and a little flustered.

“Well, I wouldn’t say the most popular…I have quite a few fans, sure, but not everyone vibes with all types of music. I don’t really know what you listen to, and I didn't want to assume anything.” Drew looks you up and down, seeming to size you up.

“You’re not at all what I expected, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“And what did you expect, Drew Starkey?”

“Well, I don’t know to be honest, but you’re surprisingly humble for someone as successful as you.” You had actually gotten that a lot, although you didn’t think it was being humble so much as being a decent person. You’re still just the girl who grew up in a perfectly normal town, with normal loving parents and a wonderful home. Just because you make popular music doesn’t mean you’ve changed at all. Plus, you know it could all go away with the snap of your fingers.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m just like everyone else,” you shrug.

“I beg to differ. You’re…extraordinary. You have to know that?” There goes that damn stomach flip again.

“Thank you,” you look down at your lap. “I could say the same for you. I love your projects.” His eyes light up at the mention of his work, making you smile in turn.

“Thank you! I love everything I’ve been a part of, especially OBX. I met my second family on that set, you know?” You didn’t know, actually. Being on the road all the time meant limited options for friendships, and no time for the ones you did manage to keep. Mads is the first girlfriend other than Amara–who you employ–you’ve had in years.

“Yeah, I love Mads already. I can’t imagine how fun it must be getting to work with your best friends every day…” your voice trails off. Drew seems to notice your shift in mood and decides to change the subject.

“Hey, why don’t you play me something?”

You immediately freeze. “What?” Drew smiles and stands up, searching for something. He disappears in the hallway before emerging a minute later with a beautiful acoustic guitar in his hands. You immediately feel a pull to grab it and start playing, but are still confused.

“Here,” he hands it to you. “I want you to play me something…something nobody has heard yet.” You immediately start racking your brain and decide to take a leap and play something that could get you in trouble.

“Um…okay. This is something I was actually working on today. It’s not finished but I can play a little.” You nervously pick up the guitar, but immediately relax when you feel the rough strings beneath your fingers. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and try to forget the gorgeous man in front of you.

In the middle of the night, when I'm in this dream

It's like a million little stars spelling out your name

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You manage to take a peek at him while you strum, catching him totally entranced by the sound of your voice. A little confidence boost flows through you as you continue the song.

But you're untouchable, burning brighter than the sun

And now that you're close I feel like coming undone

In the middle of the night, we can form this dream

I wanna feel you by my side, standing next to me

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You strum a few more chords before stopping, silently waiting for his reaction. He’s staring at you, mouth parted slightly.

“Another,” he whispers. Surprised, you do what he asks, pulling another unfinished song from the vault in your mind. This one wasn’t about him, not like the last one, but it still applies.

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

You hum for a little longer, this song actually being one of your favorites. Drew is starstruck, an unknown look on his face the whole time. He seems to snap out of it and clears his throat.

“Wow, Y/N. You’re amazing…those were amazing. Were they about anyone in particular?” You internally panic, because duh. But you don’t want to weird him out.

“Um, the first one was,” you whisper, avoiding eye contact. You feel the couch move, and look up to find Drew right beside you. His leg was flush with yours, and he was so close you could see each and every freckle splashed across his cheeks. You also notice his eyes crinkle at the corners slightly when he smiles.

“Can I confess something?” he says softly. You don’t trust your voice, so you nod once. “I saw your interview.” Immediately, the embarrassment causes your face to turn into a tomato.

“Uh–about that…I–” You don’t really have an explanation, but you scramble for one anyway. Drew chuckles and grabs your hand, effectively stopping your rambling and making you redder at the same time.

“Y/N you don’t have to be embarrassed. Did you see my interview?” What interview?

“No? I didn’t know you did one. Should I have?” He squeezes your hand gently and his eyes bore into yours.

“It would’ve made this a lot easier,” he jokes. “They asked for my response to being your celebrity crush.” Fuck.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause drama for you.”

“You didn’t, I promise. But do you know what my response was?” You shake your head. He hesitates for a moment before grinning, almost shy. “I said that’s a crazy coincidence because you’re my celebrity crush.” Hold the fucking phone, did he just say what you think he said?

“What?”

“I think you’re beautiful, talented, kind, and I’ve always wanted to spend time with you. I didn’t think it was even in my realm of possibilities. Then you befriended Mads, and I thought maybe I had a chance…” Your brain must be short circuiting, because no way in hell Drew Starkey just said the feelings are mutual.

“Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Oh? That’s it?” he smiles, intertwining your fingers.

“I’m honestly so surprised right now, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you don’t think I’m a weirdo.”

“I don’t think you’re a weirdo,” you shake your head.

“Say you’ll go out with me?” his pitch rises with uncertainty, looking nervous for your response.

“I will definitely go out with you.” Relief floods his features and he tugs you closer, pulling your legs on top of his.

“That was terrifying,” he says, massaging your calf.

“I still cannot believe this is happening right now,” you tell him honestly.

He smirks, leaning in close. “Believe it, baby.” Your heart skips a beat, mind going blank momentarily.

“I think I owe Mads a thank you,” you giggle.

“Fuck that, I’m sending her a damn gift basket.”

“You’re so right, she’s getting an album dedication from me,” you joke, causing Drew to poke you in the ribs.

“Hey, no fair. She’s going to like that so much more!” he whines. You can already see yourself falling head over heels in love with this man, and that scares you more than anything.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” you hold your hands up in defense while Drew rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, let’s just watch another movie.”

“Sounds like a plan!” you hear from behind the couch. The two of you immediately jump, scared out of your minds, until you realize it’s just Madelyn creeping in the hallway.

“What the fuck?!” Drew yells, clutching his heart dramatically.

“You were supposed to be asleep!” You cross your arms, glaring at your blonde counterpart. She sucks her teeth and shrugs, walking over and plopping down on the couch.

“What can I say, somebody had to get you two together.” You share a look with Drew, both of you simultaneously not surprised, but exasperated by her little games.

“You’re insane,” Drew tells her, taking his spot back on the couch and throwing a pillow at her head.

“It worked didn’t it?”

Yeah. You thought. It really did.

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clockwayswrites · 3 months ago

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A Bird's Wings - Part 30

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Danny’s first thought when he woke up in the morning was how rested he was.

It was almost shocking.

He’d been so exhausted for for the past few weeks that to feel rested was a relief that almost made him cry.

Danny’s second thought was about his wings, which he still seemed to have. That was a pretty quick revelation caused by the fact that he was asleep on his stomach. The wings pulled at the sheets as he stretched lazily. At least they hurt less than yesterday at least. He was careful as he sat up, a cumbersome affair with the wings. It basically resulted in Danny getting his legs off the side of the large bed and simply standing up backwards, but at least it did result in him standing.

Grateful for Alfred’s thoroughness, Danny brushed his teeth before taking an awkward shower. He kept to the shower wand only and tried to keep as much water off his wings as possible. Despite the care, he still felt (and looked) like a rain ruffled bird after he had dressed in the modified sweater and a pair of his normal pants. He did what he could to at least tame his hair, swallowed his morning medication, and left the sanctuary of his borrowed room.

“Master Danny, impeccable timing,” Alfred said when Danny came across him in what Danny thought was the foyer. “Breakfast will be served in half an hour in the kitchen. Would you like some coffee or tea to start your day?”

“Coffee would be great, if it’s not any trouble,” Danny said with a bashful smile. He still wasn’t quite sure how to handle Alfred’s uncanny ability to show up and offer his service.

“A standard request of coffee is hardly trouble,” Alfred said in such a way that Danny felt bad for trying to be polite.

He didn’t think that his Midwest manners were going to get him very far in this house. Manor.

Still trying to puzzle out how his life got him into things like this, Danny followed Alfred to the kitchen. Bruce was already there, looking still half a sleep as he sipped on his own mug of coffee. For the moment, the table was children free.

“Cream or sugar?” Alfred ask as he headed towards the counter.

“Cream please,” Danny said. He turned to Bruce and gave a little smile. “Morning, Bruce.”

“Good morning, Danny,” Bruce said, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. (Danny did his best to fight the blush that the tone caused.) “Would you like some help drying off your wings?”

So much for not blushing. “Ah, yeah. That would be really nice. I tried to do what I could, but…”

Bruce chuckled softly. “Completely understandable. It’s a very awkward angle to try and manage.” He set down his mug and stood. “Fortunately for you, Damian is quite the animal buff and I was sent some very extensive articles on caring for wings.”

“Oh gods,” Danny said. The words were muffled by the way he buried his burning face into his hands.

“Damian simply wants the best for you,” Bruce pointed out.

“Sure, but still,” Danny said. He rubbed at his face as he let himself lean his head back and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, “I’m not a pet.”

Danny saw Bruce come over out the corner of his eye, towel in hand, and rolled his head a little to glance at him. He thought it was progress that he didn’t flinch when Bruce reached out, clearly telegraphing his motion, to run a hand over Danny’s wing.

“No one thinks that you’re a pet, Danny,” Bruce said with so much sincerity in his eyes that Danny had to look away. “Knowing how to take care of your wings is the same as making sure that Damian has easy access to vegetarian meals or that the computers at the manor have a dyslexic friendly font installed for Dick or that Barbara can easily get around in her wheelchair. Your wings, even if only sometimes, are part of you. And for better or worse, my family and I seem rather intent to see you well.”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck as he glanced back at Bruce. “Part of it may be that I’m not exactly used to that sort of attention. I mean, Lucius tries to make me take care of myself, as well as some coworkers, but in Gotham that sort of feels more like new rogue prevention,” Danny joked.

Luckily Bruce chuckled at that. “I am sorry that we’re so overwhelming.”

“No, don’t be. It’s… excuse the bird analogy, but it’s just a very full nest, isn’t it? It feels cozy. It’s just something different to try and wrap my head around,” Danny explained. “And I won’t pretend that I don’t still have issues, as much as it’s something that I’ve worked really hard on personally and in therapy, dying at fourteen leaves a person with some issues.”

Not to mention being a super hero, staying half dead, dying a second time, and all of the other things that went on during his high school years.

“Yes, I would imagine so,” Bruce said after a pause. His voice was soft and sad.

“Bruce—”

“Sorry,” Bruce said. “When Jason was fifteen, we thought he had died. He ended up out of reach and with extensive brain trauma and memory loss. I know how much it effected him. I’m sorry you had to go through something at that age also.”

Danny squeezed one of Bruce’s hands where it was clasped tightly around a towel. “He’s here now. He’s alive and he seems happy. He has a boyfriend and everything. I’m not saying it doesn’t still pull at him, but it hasn’t dragged him to the bottom. At least not anymore.”

Bruce smile was a somber, soft thing. “Thank you. And you’re here too.”

Danny blinked at that. Bruce wasn’t wrong. He didn’t know almost any of the story, but he wasn’t wrong. Wings and all, Danny was still alive. He smiled softly back. “Yeah, I am.”

#I might be flirting with a breakdown #but we're going to ignore that and write #dp x dc #danny/bruce #birdritch

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 months ago

Text

Good Graces (NSFW)

Synopsis: You and Joe have been together since his start at LSU and his transition to the NFL. The picture perfect couple who everyone thought would be together forever. It wasn't until a shift began to take place when you began to question if the two of you were truly meant to be. But when you least expect it, the relationship ends, and soon Joe realizes the mistake he made.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested by: @a-moment-captured 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Looking into the mirror in your bathroom in your newly purchased condo, you started applying a face mask as you thought about how just weeks ago you thought that you were going to spend forever with someone that you had loved through thick and thin and the ups and downs all for him to pull the rug out from beneath you and send you catapulting into an abyss of sadness.

The tears had been off and on since that day and in order to give yourself somewhat of a piece of mind, you tried to make sense of it.

But even then, more than likely that would make you cry even more.

The two of you were the picture perfect couple that complimented each other well in every aspect. Having been together through his time at LSU and him moving onto the NFL as well as him supporting your career as a sports journalist, the world was at your feet.

Until it wasn’t.

There started to be a shift, especially after his season ending wrist injury and it was a feeling that you couldn’t quite shake. You had been supportive as always and helped him in every way that you could, but the feeling in the pit of your stomach remained. The two of you even stopped having sex and it was like every day you were just going through the motions. Knowing that this was the person you wanted to be married to, you proposed the idea of going to couples therapy and to your surprise he actually agreed.

It had gotten better, at least for a short period of time and you were happy to have your Joe back.

Except you didn’t have him back and the night of your anniversary was when you found out.

This was the night that you just knew he was going to propose so of course, a good amount of time was spent on your nails, your hair and your outfit that was ultimately picked out by Joe. He told you to be ready at a certain time so that the two of you can head to the restaurant for your reservation. It’s not like the two of you hadn’t talked about marriage before, and how many kids you both wanted, etc.

You still remember the last thing he said to you before the two of you left the house as you were admiring yourself in the mirror while adding jewelry for the final touch. Joe came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you as he rested his head on your shoulder and looked at you through the mirror making a smile appear on your face.

“I knew I picked the perfect dress for tonight, you look gorgeous.”

Once at the restaurant, you noticed that the two of you went into a section that was closed off which you figured was for the best so that you two could have privacy without the prying eyes of the public. Everything seemed to be going well and the two of you had just finished dessert when Joe had caught your attention.

“Y/N, I have something that I need to tell you.” Joe said which you thought was somewhat odd. He almost never called you by your full name unless he was being serious.

This was it, you were getting your ring and would officially be becoming Mrs. Joseph Lee Burrow. You had been waiting for this moment for so long and it was only right that it happened on your anniversary.

“Sure, babe. Go ahead, I’m listening.” You had your eyes on him and he took a deep sigh before saying anything else.

“I think we need to break up. This isn’t working for me anymore.”

It took you a few seconds for your brain to register exactly what he had just said to you, but once it did you had a look of disbelief on your face.

“Excuse me? What? What are you talking about? What isn’t working for you?”

“I feel like we’ve grown apart and we don’t want the same things out of life anymore.”

“That is utter bullshit.” You told him without backing down and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Y/N, this isn’t meant to hurt you, but…”

“Let me cut your ass off right there because what do you mean this isn’t meant to hurt me? You tell me to dress up, get my hair and nails done all for you to break up with me and on OUR anniversary? Un-fucking-believable.”

“I…”

“We talked about marriage and having kids and I have been with you through fucking EVERYTHING. Who was there when you won the Hesiman? When you entered the draft? When you blew out your fucking knee your rookie year? So, this is the thanks I get? Really? That’s the best answer you can come up with?” You asked him and he sat there and looked at you as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Who is she? Because there has to be someone else. That’s the only other logical explanation for this.”

“There isn’t anyone, I never cheated on you. Ever.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I believe that. But at this point, it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

“Believe what you want, but I’m telling you the truth. I’m not happy anymore and I haven’t been for a long time.”

Hearing him say that broke your heart and it took everything in you to not erupt in tears at the table.

“Well, I guess I should go then, huh? Thanks for dinner and ruining our anniversary.”

“Y/N, it wasn't my intention to ruin anything. But I needed to be honest with you. Let me at least drive you back.”

“No need. All my stuff will be out of our… well now it's just your house by midnight and take my name off the deed.”

That was February 14th, 2024 and you were still feeling the effects months later. Once the news broke that the picture perfect couple of the NFL was no more, your Instagram comments were flooded on the daily with people claiming that you used him and now he could finally get someone who deserved him and deserved him back sending you further into a deeper depression.

While on the other hand, there were men and women in your comments begging to give them a chance.

You disappeared for a while and moved back to your hometown of Atlanta spending a good amount of time with your parents and trying to focus on moving forward. Your parents felt some type of way about the break up and how he did it, but you told them that there was nothing to do but move on. Obviously, your parents had also grown close to him and thought of him as their ‘bonus son’ and they were literally waiting for him to pop the question.

The question that never came.

During that time, you started your own clothing line that focused on all 32 teams in the NFL from shirts, sweatshirts, sweatpants, hats, gloves, and more. Your best friend Sage had been trying to keep your spirits up during the summer and had treated you to a 14 day cruise where you could truly disconnect from the world around you.

After you and Joe had ended your relationship, your friendship with both Ja’Marr and Justin seemed to end as well. All four of you were extremely close at LSU, but all in all you get it. The only reason you knew them was because of Joe and he had been friends with them first, except for Justin. But it still hurt nonetheless. Many calls and texts would go unanswered by the both of them to the point where you had just given up and moved on.

The new season was approaching and you were extremely nervous because you knew that crossing paths with Joe was bound to be inevitable. But you were going to hold your head high and remain professional. In the end, it was his loss and he would have to live with the decision that he made. The first game of the season that you would be covering was the Ravens vs. Chiefs and you were currently packing a bag in order to catch your flight later that evening.

Sage was supposed to be helping you pack, but instead she was helping herself to your newly stocked wine cabinet.

“Sage! Isn't that your third glass?” You asked her as you were packing up your toiletries while she made herself comfortable on the couch that was situated in your bedroom.

“And it’s almost gone so I'll probably need a fourth.” She replied as she shrugged her shoulders.

“I need to put a lock on that cabinet when you come over.”

“I think I'm more nervous than you are for this season.” She confessed and you looked at her confused.

“What for?”

“Uh? What do you mean what for? The person who broke your heart is an NFL quarterback last time I checked. And you are an analyst who has to interview players all the time.”

“And? That isn't going to stop me from doing my job. I worked hard for everything I have and a little break up isn't the end of the world.” You told her and you weren’t quite sure if you were trying to convince her or yourself. At this point, it was probably both.

“Bestie, this wasn't a little break up. You cried everyday for two months straight.” She told you as she finished off her third glass and mumbled the last part.

“Please don't remind me. Why are we talking about him anyway? No point in dwelling on the past and what could have been.”

“You’re right, sorry. It doesn't matter and you're going to be amazing as always.”

“It’s his loss and he will never be in my good graces for as long as he still walks this earth. How could I possibly forgive him for what he did?”

“Oh…”

“Oh, what?”

“So, you mean to tell me if he were to walk through that door right now and beg for forgiveness you would tell him no?” She asked and you stopped what you were doing to come and sit down next to her.

“Sage, I thought that I was going to spend the rest of my life with him…”

“We all did to be quite honest…”

“And when he broke up with me out of nowhere, that was a type of hurt that I never ever want to feel again. And I damn sure don’t want my future son or daughter to end up going through what I did. And it looked as if he didn’t even care and wasn’t even sad about it. I think that was what hurt me the most. He swore up and down that there wasn’t anyone else and I honestly don’t know if he was telling the truth now that I think about it.”

“But… okay to me the entire thing just didn’t make any sense. The two of you had been together since 2018, fell off a little bit, went to therapy, we think we’re in the clear and then he just goes and breaks up with you on Valentine’s Day out of nowhere?”

“And it was our anniversary.”

Sage sighed and looked down at her empty wine glass before looking back up at you.

“Well, you know what they say…”

“And what is that exactly?”

“He was obviously just a placeholder for your actual husband and now you just have to find him. And you still never answered my question.”

“What was your question?”

“If Joe were to walk through this door right now and beg for forgiveness, would you be willing to accept it and the two of you start fresh?”

“He has to prove to me that he even deserves to have a second chance and then I’ll be able to decide.”

—

Joe was feeling confident about the new season and coming back from his wrist injury that cut his season short the previous year. It wasn’t quite where he wanted it to be and he could tell that he didn’t throw the ball the same, but he was a lot further along than he had been.

He had worked the absolute hardest he had ever worked in his entire life after the injury to get back to at least 95% of where he had been before it happened. At first it started off with you being by his side and when he decided to end things between the both of you, he was on his own. Which he admits was hard for him to adjust to seeing as he hasn’t had to do it since the two of you met in 2018.

When he had really sat down and thought about the relationship between you and him, he could honestly say that he loved you, but he wasn’t in love with you anymore as hard as that was to actually admit. But he needed to be honest with himself and stop stringing you along because he knew in the end that it wasn’t fair.

He had tried everything that he could think of to make it work between the two of you since the last thing he wanted was to just throw those precious years away, but he couldn’t hold on any longer and figured that the relationship had run its course and now it was in his best interest to let it go, not only for his sake, but also for yours.

When the relationship was no more and when the news of it broke, it seemed like you had fallen off the face of the earth. It was known that you would also cover the NBA during the NFL’s off-season, but after it happened you weren’t doing coverage of games anymore. Not that he cared how you were spending your time now, but it just happened to be something that he noticed.

One thing this season he was honestly dreading–well not exactly dreading, but he knew that it was probably going to be awkward was you having to interview him after games if the Bengals had won which you did with every quarterback on each of the winning teams. But, he’ll worry about it once the time came and for now was going to focus on trying to make this season the best one yet.

Looking down at his phone, he saw that it was his mom calling and he quickly picked it up to answer it.

“Hey mom.”

“Hi, have you and Y/N gotten back together yet?” She asked all in one breath, making Joe sigh and roll his eyes. This conversation would happen weekly, only for his mom to be disappointed because his answer hadn’t changed.

“No, my answer is still the same from last week and I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“Well, when are you going to talk to her and beg for forgiveness for being stupid? Because that was stupid of you, I miss my daughter.”

“We just grew apart, that’s it. We’ve been together since we’ve been in college and sometimes that transition to the real world works and sometimes it doesn’t.” He answered as he was trying to decide what to make for dinner.

“It was working just fine until you went and ruined it. Blindsided that poor girl.”

“Seriously?”

“Just being honest, don’t get mad at me because you decided to let an amazing girl go. She was with you through everything and you don’t just fall out of love with someone like that overnight.”

“Mom, I’m not doing this again with you. We’re over. We’re done. And you need to accept it.”

“Fine, I’ll just get your father to talk about it with you and I’ll probably never accept it to be honest. I was over here ready to plan for the wedding and then you tell me that you two broke up? Yeah, no. I’m still going to wedding plan for when you two get back together. I have so many ideas already.”

“Mom…. that probably isn’t going to happen.”

“Last time I checked, you couldn’t see the future so I’m holding out hope. But put it this way, whoever she does marry I know for a fact that I’m going to be invited to the wedding. I’m just hoping that you’ll be the groom waiting at the end of the aisle for her.”

Liked by nfl, y/nsbabydaddy, sagethegeminii, robinburrow, and 762,903 others

y/nsanders: oh hi. long time, no see. we are back and live for Thursday Night Football 😘

sagethegeminii: ultimate baddie of the NFL 😍

y/nsbabydaddy: Joe dumb as FUCK. How and WHY would you let her get away?

nfl: glad to see you back and always happy to have you

Joe had a text come through on his phone as he was getting dressed to head out to the field. The regular season had officially started and the Bengals were taking on the Commanders at home and he was hoping that they would be leaving the stadium with a win.

He glanced at his phone to see that the text was from his mom with a photo attached. Once he fully opened the message, he saw that it was a picture of you and his breath hitched. Purple had always been one of his favorite colors that you would wear, but pink was always number one. He immediately got a frown on his face once he saw what his mom said underneath.

Mom- And this is what you gave up, remember that. But good luck, today! Love you! Call her after the game. I know you miss her.

Noticing Joe's face, Ja'Marr quickly asked him what was wrong.

“You good bro? Why do you have that look on your face?” He asked as he sat down to lace up his cleats.

“My mom asks me every week when me and Y/N are going to get back together and she definitely just sent me a picture of her. I'm guessing it's her latest one that she posted on Instagram.”

“She’s still on that? It's been months.”

“I know and she doesn’t have a problem telling me how stupid I was to break up with her. I can't help that I wasn't in love with her anymore. She shouldn't be holding that against me.”

“It’s probably going to be a while before she does. I mean think about it, yall were together for six years and she saw her as her daughter.”

“I guess but I can't think about this right now. But have you talked to her?” Joe asked and Ja’Marr shook his head no.

“I uhh… it just felt awkward if I did. I mean the two of you aren't together anymore, so why would I? She did call and text a few times after it happened and then she just stopped.”

“Oh…”

“You were my friend first and I don’t know… I just felt weird about it.”

“That’s fair, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable so that was probably for the best.”

“Apparently Justin hasn't talked to her either.”

Hearing this surprised Joe because Justin was how the two of you actually met. You and Justin had been friends first and once he brought you around Joe and Ja’Marr that was all she wrote. The two of you were extremely close and he just hoped he wasn't the reason that a riff had possibly formed.

But deep down he knew that he probably was.

“I just…. I hope she's happy.” Joe quietly said before slipping on his helmet.

It was now the beginning of the following week and it was 5:45 in the morning when Joe pulled his Porsche into Paycor stadium. He was never one to really browse social media, but something told him to check Instagram and once he did, he got a feeling in the pit of his stomach.

There Justin was.

And you were hanging off of his arm.

It almost looked as if the two of you were on a date and Joe didn't like that one bit. As he closed the app, he then placed his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants before getting out of the car and grabbing his backpack. A few moments later, Ja'Marr pulled in next to him and quickly got out so that they could walk into the building together.

“I thought you said her and Justin weren't talking?”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Good morning to you too by the way.” Ja'Marr said as he turned his nose up at him.

“Morning, now EXPLAIN this.” Joe said as he opened his phone once again and shoved it in Ja’Marr's face.

“Well, that's what he told me the last time I talked to him. But my thing is that what are you so upset about? You aren't together anymore and you're the one who broke up with her. On Valentine’s Day might I add. And did you forget that they were friends before she dated you? It's probably nothing and your ass is paranoid for no good reason.”

“I'm not upset, I just….” Joe started to say, but then trailed off which led to Ja'Marr raising his eyebrows.

“You miss her no matter how much you don't want to admit it.”

“No!”

“You do and I don't know why you can't say that you do. You are literally having a temper tantrum over her going to dinner with someone who isn't you. Every chance you get, you bring her up when she probably isn't thinking about you. Maybe we wouldn't be having this losing streak if the two of you were still together.”

“What!?”

“Just saying. She was always the good luck charm.” Ja’Marr told him as he held his hands up in defense as the two of them finally started to walk inside.

Joe had a blank look on his face and Ja’Marr spoke up again.

“I know for a fact that you're miserable without her even if you are trying to put up a front right now. So, when you told me that you weren't in love with her, I felt it was bullshit.”

“No it wasn't and no I'm not!”

“Okay, if she was in front of you right now at this exact moment you're telling me that you wouldn't be begging for her to take you back?”

When Joe was quiet, Ja'Marr knew that he had his answer.

“Maybe your mom has been right this entire time and you just didn't want to admit it.”

A few more weeks had passed and it was now Thursday Night Football that would be taking place in Baltimore with the Bengals going against the Ravens. Joe knew for a fact that you would be there as an analyst, and his stomach was honestly in knots.

He couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous and honestly couldn't wait for the game to be over and done with. And not to mention that this was the game last year that he suffered his wrist injury in.

But, he had to do his best in order to remain focused.

As soon as he ran onto the field with the rest of the team, he spotted you.

And you looked absolutely gorgeous.

Just like he knew you would.

You were sporting a bright smile and the pink outfit you wore complimented your skin well. He knew that for a fact you did this on purpose.

“And there she is. Our good luck charm so hopefully we come away with a win.” Ja’Marr muttered as Joe just sighed.

“And she's wearing pink.”

“So?”

“She knows that pink is my favorite color on her. She did that on purpose.”

“You really do give yourself too much credit. I mean what if that was the outfit her stylist picked?”

“Oh, you mean her stylist Chanel who also knows this information?” Joe replied sarcastically as Ja'Marr rolled his eyes.

“Once again, this shit was your fault. She never wanted to break up with you. So deal with it.”

“How many times are you going to remind me?!”

“As many times as it takes for you to grow some balls and beg here to take you back. 90s style, on your knees, wearing leather in the desert in 100 degree heat.”

“That…. That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I’m telling you it’ll work, but I did my part and gave you advice. Do what you want.” Ja’Marr told him as he held his hands up in defense.

The game had now gone into overtime and Joe's extra motivation was winning so that you would interview him. The win was so close, he could taste it. He also planned to ask you when the cameras stopped rolling if you two could talk.

Not about football.

But about the two of you.

He had a strong feeling that you were probably going to say no, but he had to at least try.

Another reason for him trying to talk to you was to get his mom to stop harassing him about trying to fix things between the two of you. Because she probably wasn't going to stop until he did.

Maybe she had been right this entire time.

Joe's plans of talking to you were crushed as he looked at the scoreboard from the bench glaring back at him. He looked to his left to see you smiling at something Richard Sherman said and threw his helmet before starting to make his way towards the tunnel to the locker room. But what he didn't see until he turned back around was Ja’Marr jogging up to you.

“Y/N.” You heard from behind and turned around to be met with the face of Ja’Marr as you were interrupted from walking towards Erin Andrews in order to say hi to her since the night had now come to a close.

You gave him a blank stare before he spoke up again.

“I don't have much time and need to head to the locker room, but maybe we can catch up soon. You still live in Cincinnati, right?”

“No and for what? Why would I live in the same city as the person who broke my heart? Nothing left for me there anymore.”

“Because we're friends and I get that. That was a stupid question.” He answered as he was shifting his weight back and forth, clearly nervous about what you were going to say to him.

“Are we friends? That's news to me considering that friends actually answer each other's calls and text messages and don't ignore them especially after a break up.” You replied which earned you a sigh from Ja'Marr in response.

“I know and I feel bad about that.”

“You only feel bad because I'm standing in front of you right now, otherwise you wouldn't care. But I get it. You were his friend first.”

“Y/N, that's not fair. Just… I'll call you so we can talk.”

“Did your best friend put you up to this?”

“No, and he doesn't even know I'm talking to you right now.”

“Hmm, you sure? Because the way he is shooting daggers in the back of your head right now says otherwise.” You told him before he turned around and was met with the sight of Joe looking at him from the tunnel.

“Have a good rest of your night Ja'Marr.” Was the last thing you said before walking off as he did a light jog towards the tunnel headed to the locker room. As soon as he reached Joe, the questions started firing off at a rapid speed.

“What did she say? No wait, what did YOU say? Was she looking at me? Is she mad at you? Because I know she's probably still mad at me.”

“I… bro… can you breathe for a second? I'll tell you later.”

“Later? How much later? Does she want to talk to me?” Joe shyly asked as he was now fidgeting.

“Uh, negative. And later as in I'll tell you on the plane later.”

–

Ja'Marr was sitting in his game room while he dialed your number to see if you would answer when he got the alert of someone being at his door.

He quickly opened the app and saw that it was Joe. Closing it just as quickly, he pulled up his text messages and told him to come in and that he was in the game room. The goal wasn't to call you until later, but Joe hadn't shown up at the time he had originally told Ja'Marr and didn't quite know what to expect.

Because now he was bound to hear the entire conversation.

As soon as he heard your soft voice say “Hello,” was of course when Joe made his presence known and took a seat on the couch next to Ja'Marr.

“Um, hey. Honestly, I didn't think that you would answer. He told you and he could hear a scoff coming from your end.

“You asked to talk, so go ahead and talk.” As soon as Joe heard your voice, his eyes went wide.

They both looked at each other and Joe attempted to reach over and take the phone, but Ja’Marr smacked his hand away, making Joe glare at him.

“First things first, how have you been?”

“Okay I guess. Had to get used to a new normal and I think I've finally adjusted.” You proudly told him as you sipped on your smoothie.

“So where are you living now?”

“I moved back home to Atlanta after everything happened and I have a really nice condo down here. Maybe during the off season, you can come and see it.”

“I'd like that. Have you talked to Justin at all?”

“Ja'Marr, stop bullshitting me. You saw the pics didn't you? And then your best friend asked you if you knew anything about it, am I right?”

“I uh…”

“I've been around you for how many years? I think I know how all three of you operate by now.”

“Justin had told me you two hadn't talked in a while and that's why I wanted to ask. Usually it was when you saw one, you saw the other.”

“That was the first time that we talked since it happened. He apologized to me because I told him that it felt like he chose to be friends with that person instead of me so it felt that my friendship to neither of you was important.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is what it is at this point. Whatever.” You replied as you brushed him off.

“I know it's bad if you don't even want to say his name. And I'm sorry for making you feel that way.”

“Say it for what? I don't have a reason to. And I appreciate the apology. Even if it's months late.”

Joe once again attempted to take the phone and mouthed to Ja'Marr ‘Let me talk to her.’ And once again shook his head no.

“Ja’Marr?”

“Oh, huh?”

“You okay? You seem a little distracted. I called your name twice.”

“I'm fine.”

“Yeah, I know you didn't hear me because I said I've been on a few dates.”

“WITH WHO!?” Joe immediately yelled and Ja'Marr looked like he was damn near ready to tackle him.

It was quiet for a few seconds when both Joe and Ja'Marr were looking at each other anticipating what you would say since they both knew for a fact that you knew Joe's voice like the back of your hand.

They looked at each other, down at Ja'Marr's phone and then back at each other once more.

“I know that voice anywhere. You mean to tell me that he's been listening this entire time and is there with you?!” You asked Ja'Marr who was very close to kicking Joe out of his house.

“I…”

“Y/N! Just talk to me… Please.” Joe was trying to plead with you, but you weren't having it.

“Joseph, you must have lost your fucking mind if you think that I'm going to talk to you. And Ja'Marr I should have known your ass would do this.”

“But I didn't! Joe just….”

“I have things to do so bye. Do me a favor, both of you? Don't call me again.”

Once you hung up, it was silent in the room before Ja'Marr finally broke it.

“Your ass literally had ONE JOB. To stay quiet. And you couldn't do that?”

“I can't help that I miss her.”

“Oh, so now we admit it? A little late for that.”

From that day on, Joe consistently called you at least once a week and it was right after Thanksgiving and Black Friday when you had finally given in and responded to a text that he had sent you.

Ex- Boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- Y/N, you left your LSU sweatshirt here. Do you want to come and get it?

You- Throw it away

Ex- Boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- But it's one of your favorite ones. And I obviously can't fit it. Oh and I found one of your earrings.

When you saw the photo come through on your phone, you sighed.

It was the one you had been looking for for months.

You- You bought them for me and so I don't want them. Throw them out too.

Ex-boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- I'm not throwing those out. They were expensive as hell. And it's your favorite pair.

You- Give them to the girl you cheated on me with

Ex-boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- I NEVER cheated on you and I'm going to give someone one earring?

You- Or so you say and I don't care what the fuck you do at this point.

Ex-boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- You can literally go through my phone and I can prove I'm not lying

You- Do you really think I'm that dumb? It's been months and you have had plenty of time to delete whatever evidence was left.

Ex-boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- I know you aren't dumb and I’m not lying. You also left this here.

It was another picture and it was your favorite lingerie set that Joe had bought you.

And of course it was pink.

Ex-boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- I figured you probably wanted it

You- I'm coming to get my things and then I'm leaving.

Ex-boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- What day are you coming?

You- When is your next off day?

Ex-boyfriend that was meant to be my husband- Wednesday

You- I'll be there around 3 pm.

Wednesday was finally here and Joe being excited was an understatement. He knew that it was a long shot, but he filled the fridge as well as the pantry with your favorite food and snacks just in case.

Sure enough the doorbell rang at 3 pm as promised and Joe just about sprinted to the door in order not to delay seeing you any longer. Once he opened the door he tried to contain his excitement, but failed miserably.

“Hey.” Joe greeted you as you just stared at him before greeting him as well.

“Hi, let's make this quick. Where are my things?” You said as Joe then moved to the side to let you pass by him to get into the house.

You were trying to quiet the butterflies in your stomach as you walked past him.

“Wait, can we please talk? I mean I have you here, so…” He replied while rubbing the back of his neck which was a tell tale sign of him being nervous and you turned around to face him.

“I don't have time for this. I told you that I needed to make this quick.”

“Where do you even have to be right now? And you would have probably kept dodging my calls if I even attempted to do it that way.”

“Very far away from my ex-boyfriend is where I need to be and you have a point. Besides, I told your mom that I would see her while I was here.”

“Wait, what!? So, you'll go and see my mom, but won't talk to me?” Joe asked and you crossed your arms.

“Last time I checked, your mother isn't the one who broke up with me. Far as I'm concerned, she's still in my good graces while you sir are far from it. Very far actually. At this point, you are galaxies away from it. You like outer space so I know you'll get that reference.”

“Just give me ten minutes. Twenty if you’re feeling generous.”

“I'm not feeling generous, but you probably won't let me leave anyway until I do so I might as well.” You sarcastically commented as you went to sit on the couch in the living room with Joe coming to sit next to you.

“Okay so… I miss you and breaking up with you was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done.”

“Joseph…” You started to say as you pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath.

You literally just wanted your clothes.

That's it.

“Let me finish. I… I know it's been months, but I haven't been sleeping properly and it seems that everything around me is also turning to shit. But, you were always there for me and you were my number one supporter, no matter what. Even when I look back on some situations, I probably wouldn't have considered myself the best boyfriend and that wasn't fair to you. I honestly have no idea why I thought breaking up with you was a good idea. But at the same time, it got to the point where I felt like I was living with a roommate and not my actual girlfriend because I had given up and took you for granted. You were the one who kept trying, but I honestly couldn't see it getting any better in the future for us.”

Silence hung in the air for at least a minute before you deeply sighed once more.

“I honestly thought that you were going to ask me to marry you that day, but instead you broke up with me.” You quietly said as Joe then nodded his head before you said anything else.

“And out of all the days to do it? Our official anniversary and Valentine’s Day?” You added while looking at him.

“Definitely not my best moment.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“But that's why I'm apologizing now and trying to make this right.”

“Let me ask you this. Why do you think that you deserve another chance?”

“Because I need to show you that I can be the boyfriend that you deserve. I’m going to make sure that I treat you like a priority and not put you on the backburner because of whatever else that I have going on. And I definitely came to the conclusion that you were right.”

“About?”

“Telling me that it was bullshit when I said that I wasn't in love with you anymore.”

“Hmm, funny how that played out, huh?” You replied without looking impressed by Joe's explanation.

“I promise you that you won't regret it. Giving me a second chance I mean.”

“I need to think about it.”

“And that's fine. Take all the time you need. But I can grab your stuff for you so you can be on your way. It's upstairs.”

“You can't pack a bag to save your life, no matter how simple it is. I'll go get it.” You told Joe and hopped off the couch before he could protest. As soon as you walked into what was once your master bedroom, there the bag was sitting at the end of the bed.

You unzipped it to see your sweatshirt, the earring in a small jewelry box, and your lingerie as Joe had promised. What you didn't expect was your neon green vibrator as well as your rose toy to be underneath everything.

As you were playing with the rose in your hand, you heard Joe's voice behind you.

“I figured that you would want those back too.”

“I was in such a rush to get all of my things that I completely forgot about them.”

That was when Joe came closer to you and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“But I know for a fact that as many times as you make yourself cum with your vibrator that it'll never be on the same level as me.”

“Hmm…”

“Hmm, what?”

“Then prove it.” You whispered and Joe immediately turned you around to face him. One hand went around your waist as the other reached up to stroke your cheek.

“You sure about that?” He asked while a smirk started to form on his face.

“If I wasn’t sure then I wouldn’t have said it.”

—

“Right there, stay right there.” You moaned out and Joe abided by your command while also placing the rose toy on your clit at the same time.

Your right hand went over your mouth as your orgasm hit you and obviously noticing, Joe then slid out and stood up from the bed to gaze at you before he pulled you by your ankles to the bottom making you yelp as he began to use his tongue to pleasure you.

The hold that he had on your hips was tightened as he felt you squirming and came up for air while also scolding you to stay still.

“You told me to prove it, but I can't do that if you keep moving. Stay still, baby.” He told you before going back to his previous task.

After some time had passed there seemed to be a pattern with his movements and then a sudden realization hit you.

He was spelling his name over and over again with his tongue over your clit.

Not just his first name either, but literally

Joseph

Lee

Burrow

Joe was marking his territory as you felt that you were going to absolutely lose it.

“Shit, oh my gosh. Fuckkk.”

At this point, your eyes were closed but when you opened them, you looked down to see Joe staring directly at you with his gaze not faltering for a second.

“Take your eyes off me again and I won't let you cum.”

Listening to directions, you did as you were told and your hands found a way into his hair. The tugging on it that you were doing was an attempt in order to keep him as close to you as possible.

Feeling that you were close once more, you began grinding against his face as Joe began to suck on your clit.

Not even thirty seconds later, you squirted all over his face and could tell that the sheets underneath you were definitely ruined. As you were trying to move away from him in an attempt to recover, he pulled you back and still continued to eat you out making you scream in protest.

“Fuck, Joeyyyy I can't take it.”

“You can and you will. Give me one more, just one. I know my pretty girl can give me one more.”

Hearing him call you ‘pretty girl’ sent you completely over the edge and you damn near fell off the bed before Joe caught you and pulled you back.

As soon as he let you catch your breath, he peered up at you and smirked.

No words were spoken as he immediately flipped you over onto your stomach and you knew what was coming next.

“I thought you said one more!?”

“Well I lied. Arch your back for me. Unless you don't want me to?” Joe asked as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your shoulder.

“You haven't had me inside for damn near a year. Don't tell me you want to tap out already. Hmm, pretty girl? You got one more in you?”

Not responding to him with words, you laid your head to rest on your arms as you lifted your hips and arched your back like he originally told you.

Joe let out a small laugh before lining himself up with your entrance and slowly sliding in making a gasp escape from your mouth.

“That’s what I thought.”

–

“This doesn't mean that I forgive you.” You told him as both of you were trying to catch your breath as you rested your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you.

“But it's a good start, right?” He asked while leaning over to kiss your cheek and all you did was look at him.

“I knew that you couldn’t resist and did I prove you right?”

“Don't push it. And now because of you distracting me, I don't have enough time to go and see your mom before my flight leaves. She has literally been begging me to come and see her.”

“You were the one who told me to prove it and it was a good distraction but how about this? You fly back and spend my birthday with me. I mean if your schedule allows it that is. You're only covering Thursday's night game, right?” Joe asked hopeful and proceeded to give you puppy dog eyes which he knew was your weakness and knew that more than likely you weren't going to say no.

“I…”

“Please? We're flying back on Monday since we're playing at 8 on Sunday. I would love to have you here waiting for me.”

“Please don't let me regret this.”

“I promise that you won't.” He replied as you propped your head on your arm to look at him.

“I didn't think I would regret it the first time, but look at what happened.” You quietly said and Joe lowkey looked offended.

“Wait, you regret being with me?”

“No, I didn't word it right. I don't regret being with you. But towards the end, I thought we were back on the same page, but apparently we weren't. I regret letting it get as bad as it did.”

“I guess that's fair. And I can imagine at one point that I wasn't the easiest person to be around.” Joe confessed as you nodded.

“You weren't, but because of the type of person that I am, I was there to be as supportive as possible because I knew that you would do the same thing for me. Or at least at one time I thought you would.” You trailed off as Joe nodded his head meaning that he understood.

“If you are willing to give me another chance, I promise that it won't happen again. I took you for granted and have been feeling the effects since February.”

“I'll be back here on Saturday and stay until Tuesday so that way I'm able to spend your birthday with you.” You told him and Joe couldn't hide the smile that graced his face and squeezed you tighter and kissed your forehead.

“Don't kiss me, I don't know where your mouth has been.”

“You do know. I just spent 45 minutes eating you out.”

“Oh. Good point. I guess I'll allow it.”

“And I'm not done so sit on my face.”

“You literally don't want me to be able to walk do you?”

“Just following directions you gave. Don't be mad at me for listening.”

As promised, you flew back in on Saturday and saw Joe off before his flight, went to lunch with Robin and it was currently Sunday. You had been watching the games since they started with an occasional nap during halftime.

It was now time for the Bengals to take the field against the Cowboys and you were wrapped in a burrito blanket in what used to be your shared bed with Joe.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, once you caught the scent of Joe’s pillow it gave you a feeling of comfort. Which was the usual thing before the two of you broke up.

Positioning yourself so that you were laying directly on it and still in view of the television, you settled in as you got comfortable.

You missed him more than you wanted to admit at the moment and had to think long and hard about giving him another chance seeing as you never gave him a final answer.

Did he deserve one?

You weren't quite sure if he did.

All that was running through your mind as kickoff began and the camera was quickly put onto him showing him on the sideline grabbing his helmet was if he happened to be really sorry for what he did and truly wanted to make a change.

Or was it just the convenience of it all?

Starting all over after being with someone for six years? You didn't exactly want to do that either, but you had already been making those small steps to do so since you believed that you were done with him for good.

But seeing as you were underneath him just twenty four hours before proved you wrong.

Yes, football was a priority and his career, but you were a priority too and expected to be treated as such. Because even though you also had your career as well, you always made sure to let him know how important he was to you by your actions.

So, the question was even though it had been almost an entire year, were things actually going to be different?

You couldn't hold it in any longer and picked up your phone to quickly dial Sage's number, but decided against it and ultimately came to the conclusion that a facetime call might be better. Once she came into view after she answered, she made a face at you.

“I was waiting for you to call me.”

“Oh?”

“Where are you because you turned off your location and don't think I didn't notice.”

“Um..”

“Um, what?” Sage started to say, but then her eyes went wide.

“So, would the nature of this call happen to concern someone with the name Joseph Lee Burrow? I mean I guess it does seeing as you're in his bed.. well what once was your bed… and not watching the game with me. You had sex with him, didn't you? I love when I'm right. Tell me I'm right.”

“Three times Wednesday and once on Saturday before he left on his flight to Dallas.”

“I knew you were going to take that man back!” Sage yelled as she smiled at you.

“Hold on! I literally never said that.”

“I give you 24 hours to make it official. His birthday is tomorrow after all. Was that his gift? Or did you actually get him something?” She asked as you had now sat against the headboard.

“I'm actually giving him the gift that he was going to get on Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, yall are back together.”

“That's just it. I was here thinking that I wasn't sure if I should give him another chance.” You told her as the Cowboys kicked it back to the Bengals and it was Joe's turn to take the field once again.

“You two are meant to be together, but I get you being hesitant because the way you two broke up was diabolical.”

“It started with Ja'Marr wanting to talk to me, which I knew was about the pictures of me and Justin and to be nosey. However, Joe was listening the entire time and ended up blowing his cover and was pleading for me to talk to him.”

“What ended up blowing his cover?”

“I said to Ja'Marr that I had been on a few dates.”

“But you haven't…”

“I know and I did that on purpose. Ja'Marr was acting weird and I had a feeling that Joe was there with him and my theory proved to be right. Then Joe begged to talk to me and I told him in not so many words to fuck off.”

“But now you're in his bed….”

“He kept calling me for like a week straight and I finally answered a text where he said that he still had some of my things. And now here we are.”

“You're my best friend and I want you to be happy. Bottom line is that the little white boy from Athens makes you happy. I don't know why you're fighting this. Yes he fucked up but is trying to make it up to you.”

Hearing her say this made you sigh and nod your head in agreement at the same time.

“What if we break up again?”

“I highly doubt that. I think now he realizes what he lost, so therefore he knows better.”

“I had lunch with his mom yesterday too.”

“Ms. Robin goes harder for you than she does her own children and it is honestly hilarious. Best type of in law to have.

“And she also told me that she's been planning our wedding and she's been harassing Joe to apologize to me for, in her words, ‘being incredibly stupid’.”

“Well she does have a point.”

“I'm taking a chance and going to see how it goes.”

Feeling the bed dip, you opened your eyes to see Joe attempting to slide in next to you, but it proved to be slightly difficult since you were literally sprawled out across the bed like a starfish.

It made Joe laugh to himself as he opened his bedroom door and saw you. He had stood there for a few minutes simply admiring you and thought to himself that if you did end up getting him another chance, he better not do anything to fuck it up.

Otherwise, his mom probably would never let him live it down.

After taking a quick shower, he crawled into the bed next to you and felt you stir as he moved your head to lay on his chest.

He heard your quiet voice and then knew his attempt to try and not wake you up had failed.

“What time is it?”

“6 am, go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you up.”

“Why are you here so early? You're not supposed to be back until later.” You sleepily mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Because I missed you and wanted to spend as much time with you as I possibly could.”

“Happy birthday and I have your gift for you.”

“Wait, you didn't have to get me anything. Just you talking to me is a gift in itself.” Joe told you as he mumbled the last part.

“This is actually your gift from Valentine’s Day. I don't want it anymore so I figured that I should give it to you.”

“We can do all that later. Just go back to sleep.”

“Fine.” You told him as you buried your face in his chest making him laugh.

It was quiet for a few minutes and Joe thought you had fallen back asleep and was starting to drift off himself when he heard you call his name.

“Joseph….”

“Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I'll give you another chance, but if you fuck this up don't expect another one.”

“I promise I won't.”

“And I'm telling your mom.”

“I figured. You and her are best friends so when it comes to the two of you nothing surprises me. Any time I call her she never asks how I am, just if I had talked to you yet. And also never missed an opportunity to tell me how stupid I was for breaking up with you.”

“Because it was stupid and now look who came crawling back because he missed me? And you definitely failed to mention that she had been planning for a wedding even after we had broken up. She has an entire pinterest board she showed me when I went to see her.”

“And she’ll be excited when I tell her that we’re back together, but it’s probably going to take a lot of making up for you to even consider wanting to share my last name.”

“Play your cards right and there will be no reason for my answer to be anything other than yes.”

“Oh, and I should probably also mention that I never took your name off the deed so this is still your house just as much as it is mine.”

A few days later, Ja’Marr was confused as to why he hadn’t seen Joe come out of his house yet in order to head to practice. He had sent him a text and called him multiple times, yet no response. The two of them would typically leave at the same time and lately Ja’Marr had been listening to Joe’s constant rants about you.

Walking over to his house, Ja’Marr banged on the front door in an attempt to wake him up if he was still sleeping because this wasn’t like him at all.

“Joe! Wake your ass up! We got shit to do! And because your ass is late, I can’t stop on the way and get McDonalds! So you owe me!”

About a minute and a half had passed before Ja’Marr banged on the door once again and when he was mid knock, the door flew open to reveal you behind it in one of Joe’s shirts and Ja’Marr’s eyes went wide before a smirk graced his face.

“Y/N?!? What?!”

“Ja’Marr, shut the fuck up because I’m still mad at you for what you did. But he’s getting ready now and will be down here in five minutes so can you please stop banging on the door and yelling at the top of your lungs?”

“I uh… um… it’s good to see you again. And you can be mad at me all you want, but I see my plan worked.” He said as he gestured to your outfit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Y/N, you literally answered Joe’s front door in just his t-shirt. I know enough and I also know that yall were clearly fucking and Joe probably slept through his alarm.”

“No, he actually woke up early and I sucked his dick into another dimension and that’s why he’s late. I fucked him last night, but I’m still mad at you.”

“Spare me the details! I didn’t need to know all that.”

“Well I told you so deal with it.” You replied while crossing your arms across your chest.

Just then Joe came up behind you and turned you around to lean down and place several kisses on your lips which you gladly accepted as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Okay, cut it out with the PDA! It’s too early!” Ja’Marr said as he was looking at the two of you.

“Uh? Last time I checked, you were standing at my front door?” Joe told him as he smirked and Ja’Marr rolled his eyes.

“About time you two got back together. Now can we PLEASE leave? We’re going to have to do at least 80 to make it on time!”

“You worry too much, we’ll get there. Anyway, see you later, babe.”

“I’ll be here when you get back with nothing on laying in your bed.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him as he bit his lip while looking at you.

“Okay! ENOUGH! JOE, GET YOUR ASS TO THE CAR, NOW.”

“Stop being such a cockblocker.” He told him and you handed him the keys to his Porsche and Ja’Marr was following close behind as he walked to his car.

“Apparently from what I’ve been told, I’m not blocking a damn thing.”

When both of them had their seatbelts on, Joe started the car and quickly backed out the driveway. The entire time Ja’Marr had been looking at him smiling.

Joe noticed as he looked over at him and started laughing.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“About time she took your ass back. But if you fuck up again, you’re on your own.”

Liked by joeyb_9, nfl, lahjay10_, sagethegeminii, cincinnatibengals, and 2,382,096 others

y/nsanders: had to spin the block one time real quick. happy super bowl week 😘💕

sagethegeminii: now where's the ring?

y/nsanders: sage, slow your roll

robinburrow: I'm psychic and no one can tell me otherwise. my daughter looks so pretty!

joeyb_9: robinburrow log out because you're being messy smh

y/nsanders: joeyb_9 mama burrow stays. It's already bad enough she had to push your big headed ass out. leave her alone.

joeyb_9: 🙄🙄🙄

lahjay10_: my favorite couple back together again. I expect a shoutout in the wedding vows.

y/nsanders: lahjay10_ we'll think about it

#Spotify #joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfic #joe shiesty #nfl imagine #joey burrow

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