#just brit (ish)

[sammywentmad]

You fockin wot mate? (I'm not a Brit lmao)

Nahhh that's it for you

You used the silly British word bin

You are now British in my mind and so is literally every OC you have too.

[palaeolithicc]

.

[drusic]

fun fact. the first time i saw a pic of karl i immediately assumed he was bri ish.

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

I won't lie I've been very curious for awhile now about what that old Mäwdness idea you and that Anon had awhile back-

If I’m being honest, it died. I abandoned it thanks to a lack of interest in Mawdness anymore so sorry but I’m not sure I could ever force myself to finish and put out a story I didn’t wanna work on.

If I remember correctly, though, the concept went a little like this- (spoilers under cut)

End of M/PN2, except Vore twist. Instead of fighting D/ei and Sa/n, Ha/nk - now with the power of the ha/lo - takes on the two in a fight. Instead of death greeting them or Ha/nk, though, the latter decides that their two former teammates would make a much better snack than unidentifiable corpses

[avatar-anna]

Moments caught between Harry and Y/n on camera at the Brits

just something fun because harry at the brits was a mess but we love him for it!

Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

The red carpet is loud and raucous, bright lights flashing as people shout for the attention of celebrities. One couple in particular is the center of attention the second they step on the carpet.

Harry Styles and a woman walk arm-in-arm, a broad grin on his face and a shy smile on hers. Harry seems to be whispering something in the woman's ear, his nose pressed against the crown of her head. It makes her visibly relax, her grin widening and becoming more authentic as they take a couple more steps.

The woman is the recently revealed Y/n Styles, Harry Styles' long-time partner that he'd somehow kept from the rest of the world for over a decade. But she was here tonight, just as she had been at the Grammys a couple weeks ago, and the cameras now track their every move, intrigued by this new-ish couple.

"Harry! Harry! Harry, over here!"

"Y/n!"

"Harry, did you really marry Y/n when you were in One Direction?"

"Y/n, how does it feel to be with the most famous man in music?"

Y/n, who's hard to miss in a red dress that fits like a glove, shrinks almost imperceptibly against Harry's side. Harry looks down at her, and the husband and wife share a look as if they're having an unspoken conversation.

Then he mutters something to her, and Y/n laughs as Harry kisses her cheek, but not before nudging his nose against it. The shouts double, so used to Harry's stoic approach to being out in the public eye, but both of them move steadily down the carpet, not paying the paparazzi and reporters any mind.

*.*

During their walk down the red carpet, Harry and Y/n come across a barricaded section for fans of the artists in attendance. They all cheer as each celebrity walks by, shouting compliments and proclamations of love for their favorite.

Y/n once again hesitates on Harry's arm, wary eyes darting toward the boisterous fans. At the same time, Harry is called to by a reporter asking for an interview. Checking in with his wife, he departs with a kiss to her forehead, murmuring words the cameras can't quite pick up.

Y/n stands on her own, one arm crossed over her stomach as she tries to stay standing tall. Fans call out to her from the barricade in a way that's difficult to ignore. She waves at them with a small smile, but it's clear they want her to come closer.

With one glance at her husband, who's still speaking with the reporter, and another to a security guard close by, she nods to the latter and they step closer to the barricade, just close enough in proximity that she can actually make out distinct voices and words.

"Y/n we love you!"

"Where did you meet Harry?"

"How long have you been together?"

"Ugh, you are so mother in that dress!"

"What's your skincare routine?"

"What's Harry's?"

The tense set of her shoulders eases a bit, no longer apprehensive of the fans and their potential to be cruel.

"I feel like I met him a lifetime ago," she says. "And I just cleanse, moisturize, and use SPF."

"How come we've never seen you at shows?"

"What's your favorite Harry song?"

"Are you friends with One Direction?"

"Where were you last year when Harry got wasted?"

Y/n chuckles at the last question, her eyes lighting up as her hand covers her mouth. "I've always had a soft spot for 'Ever Since New York.'"

"Taste!" a fan yells, decibels louder above the rest, which garners laughter from everyone.

"Can you make Harry release 'Medicine?'" another asks.

Before Y/n answers, Harry appears by her side, an arm snaking around her waist. "There you are. Got sidetracked by your own interview, did you?"

"They were just asking if I'd help them in their quest for a studio version of 'Medicine.' I'm not sure if I can, though. They don't know how stubborn you are."

A chorus of boos went up at Y/n's answer, but not at her. Harry raised his eyebrows at his wife as if in challenge, but her responding gaze is quite mischievous.

Taking everyone, including Y/n, by surprise, he leans in to kiss her cheek, saying, "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, darling?"

A chorus of aww's ring through the small crowd of fans as Harry places his hand on Y/n's lower back, ushering her away from the barricade. Y/n raises an eyebrow at her husband, who is conveniently not meeting her eye. "Nice save."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You never call me darling."

Harry lets out a snort. "Lies. Lies on the red carpet tonight."

Y/n rolls her eyes but leans in close to her husband, carefully avoiding the fabric flower around his neck. "Mhmm. Let's go, darling."

*.*

An artist is being interviewed inside the O2, and Harry and Y/n are videotaped in the background.

In the very corner, the couple are leaning in close and talking, a drink in each one of their hands. Harry talks animatedly, gesturing with his drink to the point where it nearly spills on Y/n's dress. Y/n doesn't seem to mind and just throws back her head as she laughs. His eyes light up as he watches her, a word that could only be described as love encompassing his face.

*.*

During one of the performances, a camera pans to Harry's table. The house lights are dim, but he's still visible amongst the flashes of color from the stage. Harry sits in his chair, body slumped a little low so he can rest his head on Y/n's shoulder.

Both of their attention is on the performer onstage, not noticing as a few cameras are pointed in their direction as Y/n scratches the back of Harry's neck absentmindedly. He leans into her touch, looking up occasionally to say something to his wife.

*.*

"And the winner is...Harry Styles!"

Cheers erupted throughout the room, the table Harry is at standing up. Harry himself stays seated and curls in on himself, pumping his arms victoriously as he beams. His eyes are a little glassy, his hair unkempt, a sign that the night has progressed with lots of alcohol consumption.

He turns to his sister Gemma first as he stands up, high-fiving her before giving her a hug and fist-bumping someone else. Then he turns to Y/n, who hasn't stopped clapping since his name had been read for the third time from the envelope.

She opens her arms as if to accept a hug, but Harry has other plans. He leans forward and kisses her in a way that's merely pressing his smile against hers until they mold their mouths into a kiss. Then he kisses her cheek repeatedly, making her shoulders bunch as she smiles brightly.

When Harry finally pulls away, Y/n's cheeks are flushed as she tries to wipe at her husband's face with her thumb. With one last kiss, he heads up to the stage to accept his award.

*.*

Another performance, only this time, everyone is on their feet, including Harry and Y/n.

Harry's arms are wrapped around Y/n's shoulders from behind, his chin on her shoulder. Both of them sway from side to side to the rhythm of the song as Harry mouthed the words in Y/n's ear.

Her grin is wide as her eyes stay trained on the performance. Then, she looks back at Harry, who met her gaze as she says something.

Nodding, he kisses her once on the cheek before nodding back to the stage.

*.*

As Kid speaks into the microphone onstage saying his thank yous, Harry is having the time of his life behind his friend as he speaks to Stanley Tucci.

By now it's a little obvious he's had more than a couple drinks. His hair is nothing short of a mess, his dress shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it had been to begin with, and he throws his head back and laughs in a way that is fueled by drunken delight.

Briefly, the camera turns to Harry's wife, who stands beside Gemma. Y/n's hands hold her face as she watches her husband be ushered offstage by the people around him. She giggles a little before leaning over to Gemma and shaking her head. Gemma laughs along with her, covering her mouth as she says something to the woman beside her.

The camera flashes back to Harry, who turns around one last time so he can blow a kiss to the crowd, more specifically, Y/n, who the camera catches covering her face in her hands, cheeks as red as her dress.

*.*

Paparazzi shout at their latest persons of interest as they make the brief walk from the car to the entrance of a club where the after party for the Brits is being held.

Harry's arms are tightly wrapped around Y/n's waist, face set as he ignores the crowd of people shouting for his attention. Y/n, turned slightly inward towards Harry's chest, keeps pace beside him. Most of her body is covered by what can only be her husband's suit jacket, but with the open front, a hint of a sparkly pink dress can be seen, a drastic change from her award show attire.

The only time they separate is when Harry allows Y/n entrance into the club first before following close behind, his hand once again protectively hovering over the small of her back.

*.*

Photos are strictly forbidden inside of the club, so it isn't until the couple emerges from the doors once again that they're spotted.

Neither of them stumble, though paparazzi wouldn't have cared if they were. All eyes are on Harry's disheveled hair, the heels dangling from his fingers, the suit jacket draped over the arm not around his wife. They're on Y/n, whose dress is completely on display, the beading that covers its entirety flashing with every snap of the camera's shutter.

Then the collar of Harry's silk dress shirt shifted, revealing a harsh purple bruise that hadn't been there before. Neither Harry nor Y/n seem to notice, or understand why the cacophony of shouts became louder, they just continue on, Y/n's hand on the nape of her husband's neck idly scratching until he helps her into the car.

Following suit, Harry climbs inside. For a brief moment, Harry sticks his head out the open window of the car and winks and sticks his tongue out at all the photographers. Y/n appears from her side of the car, leaning across her husband to bring the window up. Not an ounce of care in the world, he leans forward to kiss his wife's exposed jaw. With an exasperated expression on her face and a delicate wave of her fingers, the window goes up, and though the windows are tinted, a hand is visible against the glass as the car peeled away from the curb.

[shotmrmiller]

More p!soap. More p!soap. MORE P!SOAP PLEASE

ok but p!soap getting with a lucky fan and he's genuinely shook by how pretty you are and oh man then you let it slip that while you've used toys (small ones) you're still pretty much a virgin and he calls it.

there's no way he's fucking you into the mattress on camera as your first genuine experience. that's unacceptable. the director is already groaning in the back how this was a waste of time, money, blah blah and honestly if soap won't do it then call the big brit. "no the bigger one. ghost, right. get him."

so he untwists his knickers and only does oral with just one finger since he saw you tense when he prodded your entrance with two. you do wonderfully, the video does even better and soap, er johnny, ("ah've gotten to know a very intimate part of ye, least ye can do is call me by my name") gave you his number just in case you're interested in more.

properly. at home with lit candles and rose petals and privacy.

he might treat his costars like nothing more than holes sometimes (it's in the script you can't get mad at him) but he's still a gentleman. ish. kinda.

[zombvic]

TINDER IRL PART one (harry lewis x reader)

summary : in which y/n gets invited to the sidemen tinder irl (usa edition) and meets a certain brit and their instant friendship slowly progresses into something bigger

face claim : no one right now (kendall jenner later)

notes : reader is like a 2019 ICON like disstracks against the paul brothers, ricegum etc.. now STILL doing youtube but on a much more lowkey basis. also im sorry but i had to add that the reader is an f1 fan IM SORRY (im locked in as an f1 girlie) 😵 yall im not american or even close to a native english speaker (#slavicstruggles) but i tried making the readeramerican cause i tried to do the american la gf x british bloke bf xx god bless 'merica RAAAAAH. also i used lines from like all the videos and made my own cause the lines from this video were insane.. last also, don't be a ghost reader 🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

pairings : harry lewis x reader , sidemen x platonic!reader , all the other youtuber in the videos x platonic!reader

warnings : drugs (ketamine joke)

You got invited to the SIDEMEN Tinder In Real Life youtube video. You are acutely aware to what the Sidemen are and you've seen their videos before. Now to be fair, the genres between your channel and their channels were pretty different. The Sidemen were known for football challenges, those 100$ vs 100,000$ challenges and other things with a similar vibe. You on the other hand, you did vlogs, lifestyle hack and tips, in your time you've achieved some disstracks and occasionally broke down some formula 1 grand prix weekend.

The moment you saw the instagram dm from the Sidemen official account you weren't sure how to react. Should you be excited? scared? worried? yeah.. all. It was the Sidemen, Logan Paul, Mike and George (idk who Mike and George but who cares).

Eventually you accepted the offer and waited till the day you had to be "picked up" by kinda random men for 5 minutes straight. The day came, you got dressed for the video shoot, they made you wait with the other girls until they called your name and then you walked in.

"Hi, I'm (your name). I'm 24 and i'm from Newark, New Jersey" (go devs go) You've practiced that line like 50 times before you left, not because you wanted to come out of this video with a new man but because you didn't want to embarrass yourself lmao.

"Hi, I'm Vikk. I'm 26 and are you from Tennessee, because you're the only ten i see"

"Would've been funny if i hadn't just said im from New Jersey dude, no sorry"

"Hello, I'm Logan-"

"No. Complicated history" you said as you swiped left.

"One chance please"

"Alright, BUT u gotta watch it tho"

"Okay. SO. If i were a pizza delivery guy, i'd be giving YOU the tip"

"Ew no sorry lmfao.. that was weak as fuck"

"Alright wow, Hello, I'm Tobi. I'm 31 and they say that kissing is a language of love, so would you mind starting a conversation with me?"

"Sure go on.. yes. I love that"

Hello, My name is Ethan and let only latex stand between our love.

"Yeah thats funny.. alright, go on"

"Yo, I'm KSI. I'm 30 and you know how they say skin is the largest organ on the human body? Well.. Not in my case."

"Lmao, yes go on"

“Hello, I'm Mike. I'm 37 and girl, you don't need no vibrator when you got this Pickled Dick.”

"Jesus Christ. No, get out"

"Hi, My name is Simon and.. Simon says you want to swipe right"

"Lmao. I love that, Yes"

"Sup, I'm George and I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly. Let’s have sex"

"Jeeesus, that’s crazy bro... no"

"Hello, My name is Josh and I find your lack of nudity disturbing"

"No, I'm so sorry" (guys i love freya sm i couldnt do this)

"Uhm, Hello. I'm Harry. I'm 26 years old and what do ketamine and your underpants have in common?"

"I don't know" you said looking at the blonde-ish man confused.

"I'd like to sniff them both."

The whole room fell into a laughter, you included. "Yes"

"BUT I GET A NO?" Logan exclaims. "What a scam"

WHY DID YOU SAY NO?

(NO : Logan, Josh, Mike, Vikk and George)

"For Logan i think we left this in 2019 and rightfully so. For Josh i dont really know tbh, i just thought his line couldve been better. Mike, i think you know why i said no. Vikk.. Im gonna be honest i dont even remember what youve said but im sure i had my reasons and George, you couldve been waaaaaay smoother mate.. tough luck"

YALL. this is part one because i cant be arsed and put it all right here right now 😁😁😁

[ivystoryweaver]

With You Part 2

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Summary: Your fiancé Marc experiences his first hangover in 2 years. Can he face you in the light of day, and admit to you and Steven what he knows about another alter?

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader. Gender neutral reader, though there is one optional fiancé(e) and muñeca(o). (Reader’s choice). No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, hangover (ish), cursing, cuddles in bed, assumptions, longing, feeling inadequate, brief reference to past trauma, self-worth probs (I mean, it’s Marc). Let me know if I missed a warning. Banter? If mild sarcasm bothers anyone... Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Dividers by saradika

Steven fell asleep right away - for that, you were grateful. But sleep did not come easily for you. As Steven nestled into the crook of your neck, arm slung across your torso, you could only hope he would sleep off that three-quarters bottle of whiskey.

Pushing your fingers through his soft curls, you pressed your lips to his temple, waiting until his breathing slowed and steadied before confessing into the stillness of the night.

“Marc...I know you can’t hear me right now...” Your lip trembled as you pulled his body closer, gently twisting his soft strands around your fingers. “But we love you. We’re with you. Nothing will change that.”

You supposed it could be considered odd to be speaking to Marc even though it was Steven who fell asleep tangled up in you. And perhaps it was also presumptuous to speak on Steven’s behalf, to Marc. But you knew it was true.

The next morning, you woke up first, after a few, merciful hours of sleep. You hoped not to disturb the man beside you, carefully slipping away from his grasp. After a quick trip to the restroom to freshen up, you clambered to the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing your fluffy slippers or a thick pair of Steven’s fuzzy socks. Your damn, drafty flat was going to give you all pneumonia, you were certain of it. 

To that end, you started preparing both coffee and tea, unsure of which handsome man would be enduring a hangover this morning. For Steven, you oscillated between a red and a golden tea - hibiscus or chamomile. Marc may have been born and raised in Chicago, but Steven Grant did not mess around about tea. 

Finally deciding on the hibiscus, you grabbed the air tight canister of tea leaves - there would be no dreadful teabags (as your darling Brit quoted Dame Julie Andrews) in your flat. 

Hopefully Marc would drink the tea, but, just in case, you put on the very impressively American coffee maker before finding the bread for some toast.

After everything was hot and ready to go, you crept back into the bedroom, figuring it all might go cold before your sleepy headed fiancé roused. No matter. You just wanted to be prepared.

You didn’t have to wait long because someone stirred just as you pulled on the fluffiest pair of socks with little goldfish (a Hanukkah present to Steven last year) and threw Marc’s favorite tan hoodie over your white t-shirt. Your legs were still bare and you decided that at least your grumpy, hungover boys might have a silly sight to wake up to, if nothing else.

Easing down beside your love, you gently raked your hand through his bedhead, probably your favorite way to (innocently) touch them. 

With a groan, your fiancé squinted, throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes, as if a thousand suns were burning them. (It was still dark in the bedroom). 

“Oh, god,” Marc uttered, his arm flopping back on the mattress. 

You adored Steven, but you were thrilled it was Marc. You needed to speak to him, or at least take care of him. 

“Good morning,” you softly greeted, reaching to massage his temples before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Mm-mm, bad morning,” he groaned, rolling over and burying his face in your stomach. His hands somehow conveniently slid right inside his hoodie and underneath your t-shirt, which sent you toppling over, giggling elatedly. 

Marc was a very pouty but adorable puppy sometimes. Grumpiness just worked on him. You liked to joke with him that he would make the cutest grumpy old grandpa someday. Thankfully, he was more interested in using your tummy as a pillow at the moment than the heaping shame and anguish from last night. 

“Thirsty,” he murmured, nuzzling against you. Damn, it was too bad he didn’t feel good, because he was unintentionally turning you on. 

“I got you, baby,” you whispered, prying yourself from his grasp to get his breakfast.

“No, don’t go,” he protested, locking his arms around you, his hot breath falling on the exposed skin of your abdomen, where your shirt had bunched up. “You’re m’pillow.” His words came out all muffled and so, so cute. 

God, he was distracting. “Are you calling me fluffy?” You teased. “I was just going to get you some water. And maybe some aspirin?”

“Wanna sleep,” came his mumbled reply. “You left me.”

“To make you some coffee, you baby,” you playfully shot back, finally climbing out of his grasp.

A few minutes later, you returned with a tray filled with tea, coffee, toast, water and painkillers, only to find Marc planted face first in the pillows. How he managed to look so damn good after downing a bottle of whiskey and sleeping five hours, you would never know. As his muscular back expanded with a deep breath, you almost tossed the tray full of remedies to the side and climbed on top of him.

Later, maybe. 

After a little coaxing, he finally sat up, taking the prepared tray onto his lap. Simply seeing what you’d done to ease his pain this morning reminded him of his shameful display last night. His eyes flickered over to yours, dropping down to the gesture of care and love.

“You...” He exhaled shakily, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

There was no need to argue over breakfast. You gently smiled in return, rubbing his forearm comfortingly. “I made you coffee, but...maybe you’ll try the tea? Steven says the antioxidants--”

“I was an asshole.” His jaw clenched, his gaze now fixed on your hand. The tenderness of your touch burned him with shame.

“You were?” your eyebrow shot up questioningly. “Hm...”

Marc was used to this from you. Just like you had taken a swig of his whiskey last night, your nonchalant reply should not have surprised him in the least. 

You were a champion of the real. He had never met a soul like you, and that’s probably why he was insanely in love with you.

All that mattered to you was the reality of any given situation - what was right in front of you. You were so damn hard to fight with because ... well, you didn’t fight. And for someone as self-punishing as Marc, who spent his youth hearing what a miserable failure of a human being he was, it took him a long time to understand that your steady gentility and raw honesty were not dismissive of his trauma. No, you met it, and him, head on, accepting him and loving him exactly how he was.

You had never asked him to change, never expected him to be anyone other than exactly who he was. After years of self-sabotage, it was unimaginable to him to not have to live up to someone’s standard. He never had successfully lived up to anything, in his mind. 

But you were different. The first time you “fought” had blown him away. He snapped at you, feeling inadequate over one thing or another and you simply said, “No.” He thought you were being dismissive of him, maybe even mocking him, but you were as earnest as ever, telling him, “You think that now. That’s okay. I simply disagree.” Then you kissed your thumb and pressed it to the grumpy crease between his downturned eyebrows. “I love you exactly how you are, Marc.” 

It was the first time you’d said you loved him and he was just...speechless. You then kissed the corner of his mouth and carried on with the evening. That’s why it was so easy to tell you about Steven. 

“I don’t remember you being an asshole,” you shrugged, bringing his mind back to the present. “But I do remember you being upset. And crying.” Scooting a little closer, you twisted the cap off the bottle of painkillers. “You wanna tell me about that?”

He watched your hands, pouring a couple pain pills into your palm, picking up the glass of cool water to make him an offering. His eyes met yours and he knew you were there to ease his pain in every possible way. 

Still, it was so hard for him. And anything too hard typically led to disassociation. 

To gain an extra moment, he took the medicine, gulping down the entire glass of water. 

“Now, what sounds best?” You sweetly asked, nodding to the tray, your gentle smile completely melting him.

“I-I don’t think Steven and I are alone...in the body,” he gulped, his eyes wide and worried. 

Sitting up straighter, you slowly nodded, reaching to take the tray from his lap and set it safely on the night table, giving him time to say more, if he would.

That’s all he said.

Shit, you suddenly worried you didn’t know how to ask questions without sounding offensive, despite the library’s worth of research you had done on DID. But you weren’t an investigative journalist, you were this man’s fiancé(e). So you would start with him. 

“And that scares you, Marc? Upsets you?” 

He glared at you. “Obviously.” Then shook his head. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You swallowed, trying to proceed carefully. It was so, so good that he was opening up to you. Instead of playing a guessing game, you decided to be your normal, candid self. 

“Do you know who it is?”

He sort of did. Another man.

“Does he have a name?” 

Lockley. He was pretty sure.

“Have I met him?”

His dark eyes locked onto yours. “I don’t know. Have you?”

Well that certainly explained one reason he was so terrified. 

“No, I don’t think so. Does Steven know?”

Marc reluctantly confessed how hard he’d tried to hide it from Steven. 

“I knew this was all too good to be true,” he brokenly whispered, eyes downcast once more. “You, me, Steven, free...happy.”

“We are those things,” you agreed, keeping him focused on the here, now - the real. “A change doesn’t mean we weren’t those things, all this time.”

“You don’t understand...” Marc rubbed his eyes in frustration (with himself) and tried to ignore his growing headache. Maybe he really should eat and drink something. He tried to tell you about Khonshu. He was going to tell you everything, and Steven too. But it was too much at once, so you found yourself with Steven once more. 

Steven was very impressed with your choice of “hangover tea” and made sure the body got the nourishment, rest and shower it so needed. He missed his morning classes at uni, but did manage to make it to his shift at the university library, which ran from mid-afternoon to early evening. 

Since Steven seemed to determined to not miss a shift over a hangover, you decided to go ahead and work your shift at the hospital, as planned. The two of you would meet back at your flat for some supper and then, hopefully at least one of you could get some more information out of Marc.

Things didn’t go as planned. 

You returned home, assuming your fiancé would be there, just the same as the previous, fateful, sobriety-breaking night, but no one was home.

You looked around the flat, texted, called. Started dinner. Texted.

Took a shower, called. Called the university library - no Steven. 

Shit. 

Dinner was cold, you had texted the boys a novel, likely filled up their mailbox with voicemails. It was a desperate look - you were aware, but the worst thing you could imagine, aside from the actual worst thing that could happen to a person, was that maybe Marc was on a bender somewhere? It wasn’t exactly his drinking style, even back in the day, but...

Your feet were going to wear holes in the goldfish socks from all the pacing. It was past bedtime, midnight, 1am...should you call the police?

You were now truly, deep-in-your-bones terrified. In four years, neither Steven or Marc had ever just disappeared like this, not without telling you. Sometimes they could be a little radio silent when Khonshu was involved, but...

Maybe they weren’t them. Maybe it was the other. The new alter. Well, new to your boys anyway. You didn’t know anything about him, but one of the first things you wanted to know was - did he possess the ability to reply to a damn text message?

You got your answer twenty minutes later when you heard the slightest thump come from your bedroom. Hoping you had imagined the sound in your intense worry, you engaged in stupid-horror-movie-behavior and went to check out the sound, in the dark.

The moonlit profile of your fiancé sent a dozen feelings through your mind and heart at once, but as usual, you went with the borderline comical response first.

“Did you just come in through the window?”

Dark eyes snapped over to you as...Marc? pulled a flat cap off his head, loosening his curls. Tossing it to the side, he reached for the fingers of dark leather gloves, pulling them loose one at a time, but saying nothing.

You gulped. “Marc?”

Once the fingers of his glove were loosened, he discarded it and reached to work on the other hand, his body language holding none of Marc’s sorrowful tension, nor Steven’s anxious hunching. He moved with ease, dropping his second glove before pulling off his leather jacket. One you’d never seen, actually. You could tell that even in the dark.

Then he eased toward you confidently, like a panther, reaching to pull loose the tie around his neck. Okay, not Marc.

Once the dark tie was free of his neck, he toyed with it in his hands, wrapping it around one fist as his head cocked to the side. 

You forgot to breathe for a second. 

He finally let the thin fabric drift down to the floor and reached for the buttons of his white shirt.

Okay, enough. “You’re not Marc,” you uttered desperately, taking one step back. “Are you?” 

He matched your step backward with a step forward. Then he shook his head once. 

Oh. What had Marc said this morning? “L-Lockley? Is that right?”

He froze.

You decided, in that fleeting moment, to deal with the reality in front of you. You drew a steadying breath, releasing the fear and worry that had plagued you all night. Clearly, he was right in front of you, so he was at least safe. And despite the very distracting sort of striptease thing he just did, he admitted he was another.

So you weren’t going to be afraid anymore and give in to bullshit stereotypes. 

You stepped forward. “Do you know who I am? I live here, with you.”

He nodded. 

He was frustrating, this one. Sighing, you rubbed your tired eyes. “Have we met before, Lockley?”

The slightest smirk pulled up the corner of his mouth. 

“Jake.” 

He inched closer. 

“But you can call me anything you want.”

Well, damn. Huffing out a laugh, you quickly regained your footing. “Smooth. Never heard that one before...Lockley.”

His smirk eased into the slightest smile, but his eyes remained dark, boring into yours before tracing down the shape of your body. 

“I can see why they’re so taken with you, muñeca(o).” 

You always knew the right thing to say with Marc and Steven like 100%, all the time, but damn if this window-crawling, stripteasing man with the velvety chocolate voice didn’t have you stumped. 

Showing you a bit of pity, he extended his hand, offering a proper introduction. “Jake Lockley.”

But once you extended your own hand, he gently grasped your fingers, bending over slightly to lay a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Pleasure,” you shot back, taking his hand and kissing it right back. 

He chuckled lowly as you retreated. 

“Listen, Jake,” you said his first name pointedly, “I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried tonight. Do you happen to know where my fiancé’s phone is?”

Eyeing you carefully, he reached down to grab his leather jacket, producing Marc and Steven’s phone from the pocket. Handing it over as a peace offering, you sighed, a little relieved it wasn’t lost, only to realize it was powered off. 

“Do you always turn off their phone?” You challenged, attempting to turn it on when you realized...

“It’s dead,” he explained, seeming the slightest bit unsure for the first time this evening. “I was going to...I thought you would be asleep.”

You frowned, confused.

“When I got back,” he clarified, his accent clearly American, although from a different region than Marc’s, it seemed. “I thought you would be asleep, like usual, and when you woke up, one of them would be with you.”

“Like usual?” You gasped. “You come in through the window while I’m asleep...like usual?”

Shit, it kind of sounded creepy said aloud like that. Jake knew meeting you would be a disaster. He really should have paid attention to whether you were really sleeping before he ninja’d his way inside. 

“Look, cariño, don’t worry about it,” he deflected, returning to the task of unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ll be gone as soon as I fall asleep.”

“No,” you protested, moving close to him - as close as you dared. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just met you.”

His confident, dark gaze softened, and he almost dared to hope...

“Look,” you tried again, “I just want to know why we haven’t met before. And why Marc is so upset. And why is he drinking again--”

“Marc was drinking? Shit,” he uttered, pacing away from you. Jake had always successfully evaded his alters, and made a point to do so as he continued their life in the service of Khonshu. 

He should have seen this coming. Most of the scum he took care of in the dark of night didn’t even make him break a sweat, with or without the healing armor of an ancient god. But as word of a powerful nighttime avenger spread in the underworld of London, threats arose equal to the threat Jake posed. 

Just a few days ago, some asshole with powers of his own got the better of him, knocking him out cold. Jake had assumed that Khonshu had intervened but now he wondered...

If Marc woke up in the Moon Knight suit, he would absolutely freak the hell out. Which...now that he thought about it, he had no memory of getting home that night. 

This was just perfect. Jake could live without Marc and Steven knowing about him. He’d lived that way all this time, but you were something else. He hadn’t wanted to meet you like this. He had screwed up, and now you were only worried about Marc. He was worried too, honestly.

Now you would never want to know him.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I need a fic where Ghost and Soap are on the run but like, framed and on the run.

They're on an assignment, just the two of them, to co-lead a team for the prevention of assassination for some big-name politician (dunno, I like to think this would happen either in usa or in the uk...) and it's all done and they're about to pack their shit and go back to base when Soap gets an encrypted call from Price to tell him that a video of Ghost killing the same big-name politician is on the telly

It's not Ghost, obviously, but it's someone of Ghost's posture, in Ghost's gear and Ghost's mask.

Also obviously, Soap doesn't believe it.

They get surrounded pretty fast by the local SWAT-like team and Soap makes Ghost use him as a hostage so they can escape with a minimal amount of maiming -- Soap is pretty sure Ghost could escape on his own, but it'd be a bloody mess that would follow him after he was proven to be framed.

Of course, Ghost tries to get Soap to leave once they're out of the danger zone. He does not.

Cue Ghost and Soap on the run while Price, Gaz and Lasewell try to find out who is framing him.

Simon's existence was erased so much that there are no pictures of him anywhere so instead, his APB has a sketch and a description. Problem is, the scars on his face were included, and way too characteristic to miss them (whether it's the glasgow smile or other scars, dunno, but you get my point). At first, it's really hard to move around because scars/mask + Simon being like 6'4 and built like a tank scream 'notice me'. Simon grows out a beard - it's red-ish blond colour so he ends up dying his hair red too. He absolutely doesn't care but Soap mourns because he's barely started being able to see Simon's face and hair and now it's all changed up.

Soap doesn't have an APB at first, but after a couple of days he is named as complicit (because he's seen helping Ghost run) and his photo is out. He has to shave the mohawk because it's too eye-catching (he's fucking bald and he hates it). He has to rein in his accent because he is described as glasgowian scottish. He can't call his maw so he sends her a random postcard he picked up a few towns ago and sends a short and cryptic message, hoping she believes he's not a terrorist.

Soap also finds out Ghost knows way too many shady people and knows way too easily where to look for even more shady people if he needs something the former people don't have. They steal shit out of necessity, often clothes and food, but sometimes they pickpocket cards and wallets. Some days they sleep in the car, some days they stop at questionable motels or hostels, and some days they don't sleep at all. They have burner phones but don't contact Price at all.

There would be a mandatory 'taking care of each others' wounds' scene (no bandages, please, you rarely use bandages in healthcare nowadays) after a dangerous run-in, a mandatory 'pretend to be a couple to lose the trail' and after that, an awkward 'there was only one bed' scene where things happen for the first time and they have a sloppy handjob or two.

They're probably trying to escape the country but can't do it via air because of the APBs and have to make their way to some shady port and even shadier ferry or cargo ship that won't run their fake passports in the system if they pay well enough.

Ghost is surprising Soap once again with an off-shore bank account and a knowledge of whichever country they're in's language. They move somewhere less crowded but not small enough that two Brits would be weird. Some people refer to Ghost as Soap's husband.

Weeks or months go by.

"What if they can't prove I didn't do it?"

"You faked your death once, love, I think you can do it twice."

[goest-and-fuckest-thyself]

Not Without You

Soldier Boy x OC!

Summary: Ben, (Soldier Boy,) is fresh out of cryo in Russia, fresh out of the destruction of the building downtown, and he wants his deserts from Butcher. When he asks for one more condition, Hughie expects another name on the kill list. But when Ben pulls an old photo from his wallet depicting his best friend, the first female Supe, the boys understand that there’s more to this situation than they bargained for. Will they find who Ben is looking for, old and frail? Or will they find a gravestone with her name on it?

Follows the boys plot (mostly) with some interludes for my own subplot.

����Warnings!🔥

All my works are 18+ I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR FAKE PAGES AND/OR RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYONE WHO READS MY CONTENT!!! LEGAL USERS BE ADVISED, I SHALL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR FALSIFICATIONS OF AGE ON THIS SIGHT!

CW: Only other thing I can think of is language and slightly asshole-ish themes. (Soldier Boy being mean to Hughie.)

“If you’re looking to play headsman again, bruv, it’s gonna have to wait this time,” Butcher chimed as Hughie gave him an incredulous look. The boy hadn’t much liked Soldier Boy, let alone think it was a good idea to be indulging him so. Now he wanted another person dead? It was too much for poor Hughie too handle.

“S’not like that,” Ben riffled through the box of his old keepsakes and belongings, picking up a wallet. He stood from the table as he unfolded it and picked out an old picture, worn at the edges and yellowed with time.

He handed the picture over to Butcher, who thoughtfully held it before him with a smirk.

“Reminiscent, are we?” the Brit teased as he handed the photo to his young friend. Hughie’s eyes widened before his brow creased.

“I remember her,” the kid mused brightly, “that’s Eris, the first female supe.”

“That’s my best friend, dick-fuck,” Ben snapped at the young man before snatching the photo from his fingers. Ben couldn’t help but stare at the printed image of her face, hoping to see her in person again soon.

“Hate to break it to you mate, but Vought said she died in the same explosion you did. She wasn’t in Russia with ya, and we barely knew where you were. How’re we supposed to know what’s happened to her?” Butcher asked.

Ben’s jaw clenched tightly as anger rose in his chest. He had to remind himself to stay calm, lest his new powers took over and brought down another building. It’s was already enough that Stan had sold him out, but her? Oh, Ben would make Stan and the whole of Vought pay for anything they did to her.

“I don’t give a shit how you do it, just get me the info. Or I’m not helping you with home-fucker,” he demanded.

~*~

With the right people being given the right motivation, meaning threats and a beheading, the team was able to track down info on Ben’s new prize.

The bunker was dark, mildew clinging to the scent of the air like a damp unfinished basement. Ben never cared for the smell, not even as a child when he would escape to the root cellar tunnels and find his way to her house. He didn’t pay much mind to it now, with the electric tingle running up and down his spine distracting him from doing anything but looking around the flashlight illuminated space.

The walls were lined with shelves of boxes, files, even books. Some tables, obviously left hastily abandoned judging by their disheveled state, held open folders and spilled coffee mugs. None of the labels on anything looked remotely interesting or useful to Ben as he made his way deeper into the room. There had to be something here.

“Look at this,” Hughie called from behind Ben’s position in a corridor of shelves. The supe turned to see the young man leafing through an open desk file. Ben’s stomach flipped, stalking back to where the curly headed kid hunched over the table.

“This is it, this is the file,” he told Ben with a smile, “it’s called project Phthalo.”

There was not time to read anything more than the title and her name beneath ‘SUBJECT’ on the page when Butcher called from the back corner of the room.

“I’ll do you one better than files,” He grinned as the two men joined him.

Again, Ben’s stomach twisted in his body, seeing the heavy steel door Butcher had found and now stood in front of. There was a keypad to its right, lit up with a red bulb, just like the ones they’d used in the lab in Russia. He knew as soon as he saw it that whatever was behind the door, would be his answer.

“You sure you wanna open it?” Billy asked, noticing Ben’s face fall as he hesitated to move or blink. This seemed to snap Ben out of his daze and let him nod his approval. With that Butcher wasted no time in shooting out the keypad, allowing the door seal to hiss open.

Stepping aside, Butcher gave Hughie a look, letting the lad know he was expected to hang back a second. He would let Soldier Boy walk into a secret Vought lab headfirst. Hughie in return nodded and stayed next to his friend as they watched the supe shove open the heavy steel door.

All three dropped their lights to the floor as a blue glow emanated from inside the foggy room, cast by a large containment tube. As if bitten by something, Ben stirred into action and ran into the room, dropping his shield as he went. Hughie gave butcher one more confused glance before they were following after Soldier Boy.

Ben couldn’t believe it. He had been thinking the worst, dreading what they would find on this trip, begging and silently pleading with every force of power in the universe that she had somehow survived. He wanted to tell her all the things he was to pussy to tell her for the almost eighty years they’d been friends, he wanted to make sure she knew. She had to know how he felt. It had shattered his heart when Butcher’s little twink told him the story Vought had put out about their deaths. Ben knew they’d probably taken her out because of what she’d do to them in retaliation for the Russia incident. He couldn’t imagine they could control her.

Yet, here he was, dropping to his knees with wide, sad eyes as he stared up at this containment tube. There she was, his best girl; suspended in a thick blue solution of god only knows what as novichok gas flowed from the exhaust pipes around it.

“Holy fucken shit,” Butcher voiced quietly as he stared up at the girl floating in a vat of blue chemicals. He had been expecting to find a body, sure, but not a live one. The man could barely register Hughie nudging his arm next to him, his disbelief and shock overtaking him.

A thought went through Butcher’s head, one that he was sure he would regret having later. He wondered if this would make Soldier Boy easier to control, make him less on edge. Now, as he watched the man crumble to his knees and stare up longing at her, he thought it might.

Ben was shocked out of his foggy mind when he remembered why he was there. “Help me get her outta this,” he demanded, rising to his feet and rounding to the control panels.

“Oh, uh, yeah!” Hugh shook his head and hurried over to try and open the unit.

“You lucked out big time, old man,” Butcher chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest, earning an eye roll from Ben.

The supe wasted no time in disconnecting every tube not labeled ‘oxygen’, causing the hiss of novichok to cease. ‘Good’ he thought to himself, ‘we can wake her.’ The more he dismantled the machine, the quicker his heart beat. It felt to Ben as if he might explode, reminding himself to breathe and try to relax before he exploded again.

“I got it!” Hughie called enthusiastically, letting Ben’s heart jump in his chest.

It almost happened in slow motion for Ben, reaching forward as the glass door slid to the side as the liquid finally drained from the tube; the way her body slumped forward into his arms, wet and slimy to the touch. His knees hitting the floor as he brought her into his lap, cradling her head in one hand. Everything was surreal until she took in a breath.

Her chest jolted, air entering her in a way she hadn’t felt in decades. Her lungs burned at the feeling, a cough rising in her throat. Her body seized as she coughed up fluid uncontrollably. Ben still trying to calm her with soft touches and quiet words.

“Hey, I’m here, it’s me! Look, it’s me!” Ben’s hand came to cup her head, thumb resting just before her ear. He couldn’t help but smooth the silky white hair that clung to her face away as he stared into her scared and wide blue eyes.

Finally, her frantic gaze landed firmly on his, her breathing finally evening out as she calmed in his arms. Weakly, her left hand reached up to his face, fingers shakily ghosting over the skin just beneath his eyes. She recognised those eyes better than any other pair she’d ever seen. Those were his big green eyes staring down on her with concern. I don’t give permission to reblog or repost my work

“Benny?” She rasped out, throat harsh and dry.

Before she could say another word, she collapsed against Ben’s chest, her obvious fatigue overwhelming her.

“Benny?” Hugh questioned, looking between Soldier Boy and Butcher.

[unformula1]

race winner! (LS2 x OP81)

logan visits oscar after the win! w/c: 1729 loscar posts until loscar podium part 47 ! (series masterlist) a/n: im so happy happy happy oscar won hungary !!! HALF a loscar podium! || masterlist

Oscar Piastri is a race winner.

Logan smiles, no one can see him since the cameras are all on the podium while he is tucked away in a nice corner of the garage.

He glances up at the small TV hung on the corner of the garage and watches as Oscar holds the trophy above his head, smiling down to the crowd. A bittersweet feeling washes over Logan, the smile falters slightly.

Logan’s race was messy, it was disappointing to say the least. Logan fiddles with his race suit, letting his fingers curl over the flap and the zip. He runs his free hand through his hair, leaning back on the plastic chair, which definitely isn’t comfortable but it’s better than the floor.

He adjusts his posture slightly and shifts the chair to get a better angle of the TV, he lets out a soft sigh before looking back up at the TV.

He was proud of Oscar. 

He was proud of how far Oscar had come.

He quickly regains his focus onto the TV.

Champagne pop.

—

Oscar protects the trophy with his life, hoping Lando’s champagne bottle doesn’t break it into two pieces like last years. Lando completely avoids spraying Oscar, opting to spray the other brit with champagne.

Oscar quickly gets in on the action as Lewis sprays him with champagne before giving him a celebratory pat on the back. It’s soon interrupted by Lando’s champagne blast into the centre of both of them.

The podium feels like a few seconds before Oscar is guided off the podiums section and down the stairs. He’s promptly greeted with multiple pats on the shoulders, side hugs and cheers from whoever he passes.

The team gives him a minute in his own driver’s room, he stares at the trophy. It’s been his only dream, he just kept dreaming and dreaming for it and it finally came.

The trophy was sparkling, it was glowing, giving Oscar’s face a soft golden-ish glow. He places it on the table, and rests his chin on his arms, admiring his own hard work come to fruition.

Oscar lets out a satisfied sigh, before standing up to peel off the sticky race suit. 

—

Logan stands up and folds the metal foldable chair, leaning it against the wall as the television finally cuts the programme, with some ad involving Lando Norris popping up.

Logan weaves his way through the crowd, quietly manoeuvring his way through his mechanics, giving them side hugs and fist bumps whenever offered.

He didn’t exactly know what they were so happy about but whatever, if they were happy, Logan should be too.

Logan wasn’t mad, he just expected slightly more from this race, maybe if he had stuck to one strategy and stopped doubting his own abilities, then people would trust him more.

Maybe if he was as good as Oscar people would like him.

Logan freezes in the middle of the garage, the thought comes down like hail on his head. He shuts his eyes for a second to clear his mind, he can’t be thinking of that. Logan takes a deep breath and adjusts his hair once again before continuing to make his way to the exit. 

Would Oscar even want him there? Would someone else be there already? Was it even worth it?

Logan held his head high despite the thoughts plaguing his poor mind, he tried to keep a neutral face but it didn’t go that well. His face scrunched up, a frown subconsciously forming.

Logan keeps walking, finally leaving the garage, still in his race suit. There are some camera flashes but not that many, not as much as the other racers, which Logan somehow feels slightly grateful for.

He briskly walks toward the McLaren garage, which isn’t that hard to find considering it’s decked out in bright orange and is missing a roof. Logan takes another deep breath before walking toward the bright orange garage.

He gets a few stares from the McLaren staff, but nothing too concerning. The entrance is even more awkward, knowing he isn’t supposed to be here and he probably isn’t wanted here.

He runs into Lando. They lock eyes and Logan lowers his head, unable to look him in the eye. 

“Oscar’s in his room.” Lando says nonchalantly, “He’s waiting for you, I think.”

Logan doesn’t lift his head but a smile forms on his face. It’s subtle but obvious enough for people to notice. Lando nods and pats Logan’s shoulder before walking off. 

Oscar was waiting for him.

It felt like a refreshing splash onto him, like cold water on a hot summer day, which was pretty fitting considering the weather.

Logan wipes his hands on his race suit, which is actually much dirtier than his hands, and knocks gently on the door which has “Oscar” labelled on it.

“Door’s open.” Oscar shouts from the inside.

Logan hesitates but pushes down on the door handle and the door slowly creaks open.

Oscar’s obviously smiling while putting on a shirt, turns around. Upon seeing Logan, Oscar subtly pushes the trophy behind his back.

“No, no, that’s fine.” Logan notices, as usual.

Oscar lets out a soft chuckle and steps forward.

“You haven’t changed.” Oscar says, “Like, literally.”

Logan looks down, as if he didn’t know he was still in his race suit, before nodding while laughing.

“Yea, I rushed here the moment I could.” Logan rubs the back of his forehead while speaking.

Oscar ushers for Logan to come in, and he does, closing the door behind him.

The door clicks shut and it’s like nothing else matters, it’s a safe space now.

Logan sniffs, fighting the tear that threatened to trickle down.

Oscar just smiles stupidly.

Logan steps forward and Oscar rushes to him, enveloping him in a warm hug. Oscar grips tighter, pulling Logan in. 

Logan hugs him back, quietly sobbing on his shoulder.

“I did it.” Oscar whispers.

Logan nods and continues holding tightly onto Oscar like his life depends on it.

“You did.” Logan says, his voice laced with sobs.

“I’m sorry,” Oscar says, his tone growing solemn, his voice softening.

Logan lifts his head and shakes it, “You don’t have to be…”

“It should’ve been with you.” Oscar hugs him tighter. Oscar didn’t like denying that he wished Logan was up there, because he did. 

He wished with every beat of his heart and every pump of blood, on every shooting star that one day, him and Logan would be up there.

“Shut up.” Logan says, between tears and a small fit of laughter.

Oscar doesn’t say anything, the room echoes of both their sobs.

Logan steps back from the hug and looks at Oscar’s face, he locks eyes with Oscar, the first time in probably months.

“I’m so proud of you Oscar.” Logan says, “So, so, so proud of you. You made it…”

His voice falters as he fights back more sobs.

Oscar nods gently, “I’m sorry about yours.”

Logan can feel his heart melt, even at Oscar’s highest point all he cares about is Logan. He genuinely doesn’t know how long more his legs can take before he breaks down and Logan has to fall into Oscar’s arms.

Logan glances over at the trophy and Oscar catches it. He shifts the trophy closer to Logan. 

“It’ll be yours soon.” Oscar says, and he can feel the snicker from Logan.

“Mate.” Oscar says, “You deserve it so much, only if Williams didn’t go and screw you over.”

Logan feels a warm sensation bubble inside of him, he looks up at Oscar, who looks back at him and smiles.

“I swear, if they do anything else I might go over there and punch them.” Oscar says.

Logan can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face, it almost brightens up. Oscar was always special to Logan.

Oscar swings his arm around Logan’s shoulder and pulls him in.

Both of them don’t say anything for a few seconds, it’s just them and the silence. 

—

“You reckon we’d win an F1 race one day?” Logan asks.

“Hell yeah.” Oscar replies, confidence booming in his voice.

“Oh really? Who’d get there first?”

“We’d win together.” Oscar says.

“Doesn’t work like that.”

“P1 for you, then P2 for me.” Oscar explains, “Then, the next race, it’s me for P1 and you for P2.”

Logan chuckles.

“We’d share every single podium.”

—

It’s bittersweet, everything is. Logan didn’t know what emotions he was supposed to be feeling. In Oscar’s warm embrace, Logan felt a mixture of emotions all bouncing around in his chest.

He watched Oscar win, from one lap behind. 

He watched his best friend cross the chequered flag while he lagged behind an entire lap. 

He watched his best friend rise to become a Formula 1 race winner while he struggled to show his worth. 

He watched his best friend do everything they’ve ever dreamed of.

“I really… really… really wanted you up there.” Oscar says.

“We would spray each other with champagne forever.” Oscar continues, “We’d be living each other’s dreams.”

Logan sighs and Oscar pats him gently.

“You’re the greatest. The absolute greatest.”

“Really?” Logan questions, a snark coming through.

“Well obviously, you mean everything to me!” Oscar replies.

Logan feels time slow down, he hears Oscar’s voice resound in his head and it feels good.

Suddenly every single plaguing thought disappears, all replaced with Oscar. Every single doubt fades away at Oscar’s touch, and every single nightmare he’s had that haunts him all snaps out of existence.

“You’re amazing…” Logan’s voice cracks again.

“You’re more amazing.” Oscar says.

“Second fastest lap in a Williams!” Oscar diverts attention, turning their focus onto Logan.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t even-”

Oscar interrupts him, “No! We are so talking about that, that’s absolutely amazing!”

Logan can’t even be mad at Oscar, all he does is chuckle and Oscar pats his shoulder violently, shaking him while screaming every compliment known to mankind into Logan’s ear.

A hug later, they both stand up.

“I should probably go back, they’re looking for me.” Logan says.

“Yea. You know what, dinner, tomorrow, you and me, my treat!” Oscar says.

“No, my treat.” Logan says, “For the winner, only.”

Oscar chuckles, he knows he can’t fight that. 

As Logan leaves, Oscar raises his fist, “Next time, it’s gonna be you.”

Logan smiles, bumping his fist with Oscar’s.

“Deal.”

[holllandtrash]

better match | lando norris, pierre gasly

pairing: pierre gasly x reader, lando norris x reader blurb (epilogue ish i guess) to better left unsaid (the better series)

based off an anon message that the f1 drivers, specifically pierre and lando in monaco watching tennis but not sitting near each other was giving: “The Better Series” Pierre bringing y/n along as his plus one and her and lando just briefly acknowledging each other from across the court

word count: 1.7k (this is not proofread i wrote this so fast)

Pierre reached for your hand as you walked up the steps to the vip stands. Charles was waiting for the two of you next to the row of chairs and he flashed you both a smile.

"I didn't know you liked tennis," Charles said, stepping forward to pull you in for a hug.

"I don't," you laughed, dropping your sunglasses to rest on the bridge of your nose. You glanced at Pierre, "I was practically dragged here."

"Is that why you spent two hours on your hair and make up? Because you didn't want to come?" Pierre teased, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You placed your hand against his chest as his arm moved around your waist to hold you close to his side. It took everything you had to not tilt your chin up to kiss him, but Pierre had told you that there would be dozens of cameras around.

Your relationship was by no means a secret, but there was still a line you didn't like to cross when it came to PDA.

"Come on, let's sit," Pierre led the way, finding your seats easily.

There were perks to dating a Formula 1 driver. You may not have been a fan of tennis, but you could appreciate the good view of the match. There was no one in front of you, you had plenty of leg room and without even asking, one of the employees working brought you and Pierre each a bottle of sparkling water.

Pierre rested his hand on your knee, rubbing his thumb aimlessly over your exposed skin as he fell into a conversation with Charles.

You tried to pay attention to the match, but you kept having to lean towards Pierre and ask to him to explain what was going on or what the call meant. Pierre didn't mind helping you out though, he sort of figured that bringing you along would come with a lot of questions.

Pierre loved bringing you everywhere. Any sporting events, any dinners, any media requirements, he made sure to do whatever he could so that his invite was extended to you.

He always joked about you quitting your job so you could travel with him more, but they weren't actually jokes and you both knew that.

Since you started dating, you managed to split your time pretty evenly between your career and spending time with Pierre over his winter break but he somehow managed to convince you to take an extended leave that lined up with his first break of the season. Him having four weeks off in April wasn't expected and you really had no reason as to why you couldn't take time off.

So you went to Milan with him and then Paris and now you were in Monaco.

It was definitely nice to see Charles, it had been a while since you had caught up with him. George and Carmen were also somewhere watching the match, you made a mental note to try and meet up with them later.

As far as you were concerned, none of the other drivers were present but when you opened up your phone and saw that Lando's instagram story was the first one highlighted, you clicked it.

And that's when you found out he was watching the tennis match too.

You looked up from your screen and started to scan the audience that was across from you. When no one sitting down looked like Lando, you peered to your left and right, trying to see if you could spot the Brit.

"What's up?" Pierre asked, squeezing your leg. He noticed your sudden interest, not in the sport, but in trying to find something, or someone.

You weren't going to lie to him. Pierre and you had a very honest relationship, there were no secrets.

"Lando's here," you said.

Pierre nodded. His jaw tightened momentarily, but not enough to cause concern. You hadn't spoken to Lando face to face since he visited you at your place of work. You had seen him in the paddock when you attended the first race of the season, but you weren't able to go to the other ones so there was no opportunity to connect.

You logged into Twitch once over the winter break and watched one of his streams. You left a comment, one that went unnoticed by Lando, but when his viewers recognized your username in the chat, they started springing a bunch of questions on him.

And Lando had a really bad habit of reading the chat out loud.

"...what's up with you and Y/N..." Lando muttered and then smiled to himself as he leaned back in the chair. "Yeah we're friends, that's all. She'll always be one of my biggest supporters, dont worry."

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. But his fans didn’t need any more information than that. You would always support Lando, you still considered him a friend, you were just hovering in this area of uncertainty.

At that point, Max, who had been hovering over his shoulder, felt it was smart to chime in, "Yeah she'll just be wearing pink now instead of orange."

Lando elbowed his side, "She never wore orange anyway. It wasn't her colour."

And you don't know why you did this, but you felt the need to share your two cents and you typed in the chat, "It's not your colour either. It washes you out."

His viewers all loved that one. Lando must have seen the comment too, or at least the hundreds of responses to it, because he rolled his eyes and just tried to change the topic but with Max laughing in the background it wasn't all that easy to segue into something else.

There was no malice, though. No hatred, no anger. You were on good terms, even if you hadn't spoken or sent any texts over the last few months.

But now you were in the same vicinity and it wasn't a race weekend.

Did you want to talk to him?

Pierre had the same question for you, "Did you want to go say hi?"

"I don't even know where he is," you shrugged, but that wasn't the answer he was expecting, or hoping for.

"That's not what I asked."

You placed your hand overtop of Pierre's and gave it a squeeze, "Let's just watch the match, yeah?"

And you both did, for a while. Both of you pretending that you weren't subtly looking for the British driver in the stands.

Only Pierre didn't find Lando first. You did.

And it was on complete accident.

At the end of one of the sets, a young fan approached Charles from the right and naturally both you and Pierre turned your heads to watch the adorable interaction.

And that's when you saw Lando. Just a few metres down. Sitting in the same section as you but at the complete opposite end and a few rows up.

You could have pretended you didn't see him if he wasn't looking your way, but his eyes found yours in a heartbeat. He was wearing a light pink shirt that looked good against his tan skin. He was sitting with Max who was too engrossed with his phone. And you had officially been staring for too long.

Pierre glanced at you and then followed your line of sight up and over his shoulder. When he spotted Lando, Pierre gave him a friendly wave, mostly because it would look back on all of you if any rumours of bad blood resurfaced.

Lando waved back with two fingers, clearly directing it at Pierre because you hadn't done anything since seeing him. It wasn't until Lando looked forwards again did Pierre squeeze your leg, pulling your attention to him.

"You can say hi to him," Pierre told you. He didn't need to give you permission, he knew you would have gotten up and said hi if you wanted to. His words were more of a reminder. Lando was one of your oldest friends, it was almost strange that you hadn't said anything.

"Maybe later," you smiled. "Set's about to start."

"Oh now you care about tennis," Pierre smirked leaning in to kiss the side of your head. You tilted your head towards him and rested it on his shoulder for a minute as you returned to watching the game.

But you couldn't focus for long. You straightened up and glanced over your shoulder, hoping to see Lando again, which you did. He hadn't gone anywhere.

Pierre didn't have to say a word. He just pulled his hand off of your leg and rested it in his lap, taking away the only mental barrier keeping you from seeing Lando.

He didn't want to keep you from talking to him. He wasn't going to stop you either. It wasn't something he would have liked to see, but he loved you. He trusted you. He knew you didn't have those feelings for him anymore.

You loved Pierre. So much.

But that didn't mean you ready to open up the door to a friendship with Lando just yet.

So you settled on giving Lando a gentle smile. Something that would get the message across that you weren't ignoring him, you were acknowledging him, but you still needed time.

Lando respected that and he smiled back. He noticed that your smile didn't quite reach your eyes but there was a good chance his didn't either. It was clear there was a lot that was unsaid between you, and would remain unsaid, and Lando just had to accept that.

You and Pierre looked good together.

As you dropped your head to his shoulder, Lando told himself not to think about how you used to do that with him if you were ever watching a movie. You nudged your knee against Pierre's before you asked a question, something else you would do with Lando if you were confused about what was in front of you.

And then you reached for Pierre's hand.

While you had grabbed Lando's hand on multiple occasions, he had never brought your intertwined fingers up to his lips to kiss your knuckles like Pierre was doing now. A new kind of smile spread across your face as Pierre rested your connected hands in his lap, a smile that Lando didn't ever see, or if he did, didn't recognize what it was at the time.

Pierre made you happy. Ridiculously happy. Lando knew that he would never have been able to make you that happy.

But he kept glancing your way throughout the rest of the tennis match, waiting, hoping that you would look up at him again.

Only you never did. You didn't need to.

bro if this is kinda sad im sorry but like we all know their relationship ended with some uncertainty so like there is no happy platonic ending for them, not yet at least. i just wanted to write this bc it shows growth in this (fictional) friendship. its not over, it'll never be completely over but maybe i just have to write another blurb about them actually talking again for the first time

[shelyue99]

After two days in defense, Easy Company received orders to mount its men on trucks and move toward Uden on "Hell's Highway" in anticipation of a German attack. We were part of a two battalion-size force under command of Lieutenant Colonel Chase, the regimental executive officer. Easy Company only had sufficient trucks to carry half of the com-pany, so I commanded the first serial. Captain Nixon and Lieutenant Welsh accompanied me as we approached Vechel. No sooner had we passed through Vechel en route to Uden, a scant four miles away, than the Germans severed the road in two places. Lieutenant General Brian Horrocks, commanding the British XXX Corps whose mission it was to secure Hell's Highway, later referred to the German attack as his "Black Friday." The German assault also left us isolated. I turned to the men and said, "Men, there's nothing to get excited about. The situation is normal. We are sur-rounded!" Together with three Brit-ish tanks that were caught in town with us, we remained surrounded for the remainder of September 22 and for the next two days. I reported our dispositions to Colonel Chase, who immediately directed me to establish a defense in Uden. Roadblocks were set up on all roads entering Uden.

To coordinate the defense, Nixon and I climbed the church tower. We climbed as high as we could go, to where the church bell was sus-pended. From here we could observe the battle taking place in the vicinity of Vechel.

It was not long before we noticed a German patrol of platoon strength moving through an orchard on the southeast side of Uden. We ran down the tower and I grabbed a couple of rifle squads and sped off to intercept the patrol. We hit them hard and they withdrew. I returned to the tower to enjoy my catbird seat, watching enemy tanks approach Vechel under tactical air support from the Luftwaffe. I couldn't believe that with all this action going on, no one was coming toward us at Uden, just a few miles away. The bliss of this front row seat did not last. A German patrol must have spotted Nixon and me, or, at least suspected that somebody was in that tower.

They sent a long shot our way and it literally "rang our bell," which was right over our heads. We came down the stairs of that tower so fast that our feet did not touch the steps more than two or three times. After we hit the ground, we enjoyed a good laugh just thinking about how we must have looked coming down.

—Beyond Band of Brothers by Dick Winters

[noa748]

NR chapter 69 is halfway (ish) done!! Or maybe more, my goal is 10k words lol but I'm going to find a good stopping point rather than an arbitrary word count. Just not sure when the natural stopping point is yet

Kinda struggling with the lack of action. It's hard to just gloss over the character's internal struggles during the last tour of tethe'alla before the final seal... and I love writing character interactions but I worry that it gets stale for the reader ;_; it's going to be a total shitshow once they get to the tower of mana but I just need to... GET THERE...

Also Brit's birthday falls on this chapter which makes me cackle because I'm immature

[milfp1lled]

hi! i'd love to request a chessy x reader fic where reader is a friend of the twins when they're all in college ish times (of age) and reader is crushing on chess

The Chessy Trap

Pairing: Chessy x Reader

Summary: After noticing the chemistry between you and their housekeeper Chessy, your college friends Hallie and Annie decide to try and set the two of you up

or

Two times Hallie and Annie try to set an oblivious Y/N and Chessy up with each other and the third time it actually works

Warnings: Mostly just fluff. Very brief mention of homophobia, mentions of drinking/underage drinking, strong language.

Words: 6975

Note: The word count on this is absolutely atrocious and I have no idea how that happened. Sorry/You're welcome (depending how you feel about it haha). Hope you enjoyed it anyway!

Sorry for any mistakes! It's not been proofread (yet!).

"Parker-James family vineyards" you read aloud with a dreamy sigh as Annie drives the car beneath the archway sign at the entrance of the estate- there was lush greenery as far as the eye could see...miles away from the concrete jungle that was Atlanta, or the loud hustle and bustle of LA. You tilt your head skywards, closing your eyes to take in deep breaths of clean air and to revel in the feeling of the sun on your skin...it was even more beautiful than the way they had described it.

It'd been a long 6 and a half hour drive up to Napa (the three of you deciding to split the drive between you in two hour increments) but you were finally on the last stretch.

Hallie let out a leisurely sigh from the back seat of the jeep, stretching her arms up to cradle the back of her head.

"I know we're only here for a week, but trust me when I say this Thanksgiving break will be a blast...not to mention it's so needed! We have a pool, and there'll be music...also Chessy and Mom make the best thanksgiving dinner" she rambled talking at 50 miles a minute (as per usual).

You'd not had the pleasure of meeting Chessy before. Sure you heard of lots of stories about her and their butler Martin before, but you'd only gotten the chance to meet the second half of the duo when you were down in London.

Beside you, Annie nodded in agreement with her sister, eyes still trained on the road;

"It really will...and our Mum and Dad quite literally live on a vineyard so there's no need for Hallie and I to crack out those ridiculous fake IDs either" she grumbled in mock irritation.

You let out a hearty chuckle at that, "No fake IDs...are you sure?" You grin.

"Because I would like to see Hallie bring out 28 year old London expat 'Philomena Crocker' for a night out in Napa Valley" you quip, mimicking a British accent.

Taking one hand off of the wheel of the car, the Brit gives you a playful shove in response, Hallie on the other hand snorting with laughter,

"I have class and you don't!"

Back in your first year of college, Annie had (mistakenly) tasked you and Hallie with finding someone to make some fake IDs for the three of you so you could get into this trendy bar, which lead to the two of you selecting the most ridiculous aliases you could think of...it would be fair to say the Annie didn't take kindly to having to assume the identity of  'Talulah Higginsbottom' for the next two years.

The three of you had been friends for a while now, having met during your first year of college at UCLA.

Annie was a fellow English major and her abundant enthusiasm and charm meant that you quickly became fast friends and Hallie was your volleyball teammate; effortlessly hilarious and always bouncing with energy.

You first met her at volleyball tryouts mistaking her for Annie, the only other freshman trying out who you recognised, so you'd waltzed up to her to engage in conversation...only to find out that she'd all of a sudden adopted an American accept and in fact went by Hallie...because she was a completely different person who had no idea who you were.

In hindsight...after two seconds of conversation (accent aside) you should've seen it coming...where Annie was prim and proper, Hallie cursed like a sailor and said whatever she was thinking at any given moment. After that mix up you were mortified (Annie found it hilarious)...safe to say the three of you had been inseparable ever since.

You were known as 'The Three Musketeers' around campus—you'd taken a big sister role in their lives and you'd do everything together; study, go shopping, eat...get embarrassingly drunk at frat parties.

So when it came down to holidays, of course they'd offered to extend an invitation for you to spend it with them and their family...they'd considered you as such anyway at this point.

Before college you'd taken a year out post highschool to work and save up to move states after getting your dream spot at UCLA, but it just wasn't enough to cover everything, which meant you'd come to terms with the fact that you'd spend most of your time outside of the semester in California.

To fly from LA to Atlanta for thanksgiving just wasn't feasible...well that and the fact that you weren't exactly jumping at the chance to go home seeing as things between you and your conservative parents were on the rocks ever since you'd come out as a lesbian.

Your original plan for Thanksgiving was to spend it back in your dorm with some Seinfeld reruns and a Turkey microwave dinner to keep you company and you'd actually grown to accept that...it wasn't like you had any emotional tie to such a pointless holiday anyway...not to mention there were much worse places to be spending it than LA.

But of course, the twins weren't having it; outraged upon hearing this, demanding you spend it with them in Napa. You loved them and appreciated their offer, but first denied the invite, feeling guilty for intruding on their family thanksgiving...you knew that they came from wealth but regardless having them incur further expenses because of you made you feel like you were taking advantage.

Following this Hallie had barged into your room complaining and pouting about how not coming with them to California was 'so unfair' because they really wanted you there. Annie on the other hand, always leading with logic, had given you a stern 'talking to' about how not coming with them would be a "disservice to yourself" as they were making the journey regardless of whether you tagged along or not...not to mention you'd be able to join in with the driving which was a relief to Annie as she hated driving on "the other side of the road".

...eventually you gave in.

How could you possibly argue with that?

It wasn't like the stakes would be too high anyway. This would be the third time you'd met their parents as you'd spent the final months of last summer with them at their townhouse in London, (Their parents being convinced for some bizarre reason that you were Annie's girlfriend for the entire duration of the trip).

_______________________

As you near the house, you could already see someone standing in the archway of the door, clearly waiting for the car to arrive. Annie turns down the Britney Spears song playing on the radio to focus as she squints to see who it is before it dawns on her and she haphazardly parks the car, bounding into action to greet them.

"Chessy!" She squeals, uncharacteristically excited as she jumps out of the car, Hallie following closely behind as they sandwich the shorter woman in a hug.

"My gorgeous gorgeous girls! Every time I see you you've grown taller, there's gotta be something in that LA air I'm telling 'ya!"

"How was the drive up?"

Hiking her duffel pack further up her shoulder, Hallie raises her eyebrows up to her hairline,

"Oh it was just riveting...Annie forgot what damn country she was in and nearly wiped out a deer changing sides on the road!" she smirks with a chuckle,

Annie fake laughs in reply,

"Oh Yeah? Wow that's so funny Hal, how about you tell Chessy about the fact you made us take an hour-and-a-half detour to find a gas station because you needed another pack of smokes?"

At least to their credit...both of their claims were in fact true...your turn behind the wheel had probably the most peaceful time of the whole trip. You chose to put it down to the fact that you had the latest Gorillaz album playing on repeat, (But honestly, it was probably just because you didn't have a raging nic addiction and knew which side of the road to drive on).

Watching the exchange on from a distance you let out a breath of laughter that seemed to catch the attention of the trio, three pairs of eyes turning to look at you leaning against Hallie's jeep.

That was when you really saw her.

She seemed slightly shorter than you (you put that down to the pair of 6-inch wedges you had on) and was dressed casually, wearing a pair of beige Chinos, her button-up tucked askew into them, but regardless she had that kind of beauty that you couldn't help but notice.

To put it simply she was gorgeous. And boy, were you starstruck.

Shiny brown hair flying in the California breeze, the older woman shoots you a smirk before sliding her sunglasses onto of her head to get a better look at you. You hold your breath at the way her gaze rakes up and down your form as she walks over to you before holding her hand out for you to shake:

"And who is this? She asks without averting her stare from your face.

"Chessy this is Y/n...Y/n, Chessy"

This was Chessy? You friends had not given you the heads up that she was this...hot. Honestly, you didn't know what you'd expected.

"This is the famous Y/n!?" Chessy beams, her unwavering gaze rooting you on the spot.

"I've heard a lot about you"

"Uhh...I'm y/n" you gawk, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Real smooth.

Chessy chuckles as she lets go of your hand before giving your forearm a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah...I gathered that hon."

Hallie and Annie look between the two of you before exchanging a glance...you had no idea what for.

That damn twin intuition.

They could sometimes have entire conversations between them without saying a word and you were left clueless every time.

Elizabeth runs down the stairs, Nick hot on her heels and the twins head towards them, enveloping them each in a hug too, before the two parents turn to you.

"And y/n! so good to see you again!"

"Great to see you again Mr and Mrs Parker-James"

Elizabeth gives you a look and you correct yourself sheepishly,

"Sorry I keep on forgetting...Liz and Nick" before she pulls you into a hug.

"So how is college girls?" She asks the twins, and Hallie bursts into action, animatedly telling her parents about some scientific field trip she went on last week,

You and Annie look at each other holding back laughter.

Here she goes

This was about to be a long conversation, the twin would talk all day about her environmental science degree if you let her.

Then a blur of yellow runs out of the still ajar door, crashing into you and sending you teetering backwards slightly on your heels.

You manage to catch yourself (thank God).

Falling in front of a beautiful woman right after stumbling over your words like an idiot would've been the nail in the coffin for your ego.

You look down to see the sweetest looking golden retriever you've ever seen, pawing at your capris for your attention. Without hesitation you quickly crouch down to your knees in the gravel, letting him jump up and lick your face,

"Oh hi!" You coo in a baby voice, as you begin fawning over him,

"You must be Sammy!" You exclaim, leaning down to scratch his belly.

"Aren't you just such a good boy!"

"Huh..." Chessy states in confusion,

You shield your eyes against the sun to peer up at her through your fingers, the sun haloing around her chocolate brown hair,

It seemed fitting... Chessy had to be an angel.

"Sammy doesn't usually like strangers but he came to greet you first..." she explains,

"...Guess you must be special"

You bite your lip with a shy smile as you feel a slight blush tinting your cheeks,

Oh, Chessy.

"...I am."

__________________________

"Hey." you smile softly, hip leaning against the doorway of the kitchen,

It'd been two days since you'd arrived here and sure you'd obviously seen Chessy around (as expected embarrassing yourself each time by being a fumbling mess), but only now had you finally managed to work up the courage and confidence to say something to her without short-circuiting.

Chessy startles momentarily before turning away from the pot in front of her expecting to see Annie or Hallie,

"You scared the shit out of m- Oh! How you doing hon?" she smiles softly.

"You looking for one of the twins?" She offers.

"No it's okay...Annie is reading by the pool and Hallie will probably be knocked out taking her afternoon nap right about now..." you share a laugh with Chessy,

"I..." you smile shyly at the ground with a nervous giggle before looking back up to meet her gaze "I, uh, actually came here to see if you needed any help with anything?"

The housekeeper tucks a strand of messy hair behind her ear, a small smile blooming across her lips,

"Me?"

"Well...yeah."

"Do you even know how to cook?"

"Do I know how to cook!?...I'll have you know I worked at an Olive Garden in my teens!" you joke back pretending to toss your updoed hair over your shoulder.

Chessy pauses before bursting into loud laughter, clutching her stomach slightly. You noted how her entire face crinkled up, like her laugh was trying to force its way out of her, when she smiled unabashedly like that and you couldn't help but feel some sort of weird pride swell in your chest at being the cause of it.

...all you'd really done was tell a joke.

But making her laugh was addicting and you all of a sudden wanted more.

"Who am I to refuse the help of someone with such high expertise?" She quips grabbing another apron from the hook behind her and tossing it your way, as you grab it with a seamless catch.

"You can start on chopping the onions for the sauce" she points, and with a salute, you move to stand at the counter.

That you could do.

Surprisingly, you get a good rhythm going between the two of you, smoothly manoeuvring around each other as you focus on chopping and dicing, whilst Chessy takes the ingredients to the pot after you're done.

The only thing was you hadn't said a word to one another yet.

You opened your mouth to speak before clamping it shut immediately.

What did you say to her? What if you said something weird? That would be a nightmare; You didn't want her to think you were weird.

"So...you're an English major like Annie huh?" Chessy starts after a while, and you're thankful she's the one to fill the silence,

"Ya' planning on going to law school like She is?".

You let out an amused snort in reply,

"God no! After I graduate next year I'm not going back! Annie is as smart as anything but law school is not for me..." you state moving on to dice up some carrots.

"I think wanna teach kids: I'm pretty good with them and love being around them, so...but honestly I think I originally chose to major in it because I love to read...it's all I do."

You pause, reaching out your hand to pretend to smack yourself, "Sorry...I'm rambling.".

It was a habit of yours when you were nervous...Chessy made you nervous. Which you knew was ridiculous because she was so incredibly warm.

She was so disarming and open and welcoming and kind...so why couldn't you look her in the eye?

Chessy smiles, "No...it's cute."

She thought you were cute.

"I like to read too...I'm a sucker for a good romance novel..." she starts,

"I've been at this house so long though I think I've already read my way through all of the books on the shelves here so I'm starting to read the same ones over and over".

"I love romance novels too,” you begin, feeling a slow blush spreading across your cheeks,

"I brought some books from my collection with me this week so I could lend you some of mine?" you don’t look at her when you make the offer, trying to seem unbothered despite your heart beating out of your chest.

Chessy beams at you, "I'd love that.".

"So...do you think that love like in the books actually exists like that? ...in the real world?"

She pauses with a frown and you can tell she’s really mulling your question over, "I don't know...I mean I've been around for a while now and I haven't seen it yet but who knows".

"That's kind of a deep question to ask me over some pasta...you got your eye on a boy at your college?"

You laugh like its the funniest thing you’ve ever heard,

"I mean...I'm a lesbian so no boys...no 'girls' at the moment either though, I've not really clicked with anyone "

She gives you a look like she wants to say something but doesn't.

"What about you...I'm sure someone must've snapped you up by now."

You mean...look at her.

Chessy rolls her eyes at you as though taking what you said as a joke,

"Not at the moment...been on a couple of dates but nothing stuck...the dating pool in Napa is quite small let's just say"

Hm.

Chessy turns to look at you pensively with a tilt of her head,

"I know you want to ask...I can see you've got that look in your eyes"

You relent immediately,

"I heard that you and the butler, Martin were engaged a while back..."

This time it's Chessy's time to laugh and you're thrown off.

That wasn't the reaction you were expecting.

"That's what you were to afraid to ask me?" She looks up with a contemplative pause,

"It was around 10 years back now but, there's not really much to tell...we realised neither of us were exactly each other's type... I'm assuming you met Martin's partner Edward?".

You nod in understanding.

"Anyway..." she begins with a clap of her hands to change the subject,

"I'd say we just need to leave the sauce to simmer now, so I don't really need your help with chopping anymore...It could be useful to have someone roll out the pasta for me though"

Turns out that was something you in fact could not do.

"Is this how they had you kneading dough at Olive Garden?"she teases with a bump of her hip

"Shameful..."

"Here let me show you how to do it..." she offers gently, standing closely beside you

"Can I?" She asks hands hovering above yours, and you nod as she weaves your fingers together guiding you to follow her actions,

"You have to work the dough, see like th-"   Naturally of course, you tune her out completely. Too dazed by your proximity to her and the entrancing flex of her fingers as she kneads.

You weren't even going to let your mind go to that place... you refused.

But she did seem to know what she was doing. Chessy was really good with her hands…

The woman herself pauses before turning her head around to face you eyebrows raised.

"Did you get that?"

"Yeah...but I think I'm better off being on pasta sauce duty." You mutter, shaking yourself out of your daze as you walk back over to the pot,

"You're gonna quit just like that?" She chuckles and you shrug with a smirk as she gets back to work.

You look at across Chessy, the older woman trying to blow away a stray wisp of hair as she wipes her hands on her apron to no avail,

She mutters an expletive under her breath, opting to tuck her hair behind her ear with the side of her hand, leaving a huge white flour mark on her face (Chessy of course none the wiser)

With a chuckle, you lean forward to wipe the flour off her cheek with your thumb, pausing to admire how the flecks of light shining through the window twinkle in her sparkling green eyes.

"Thanks..." she smiles staring back at you just as intensely.

"You're welcome"

You drag your gaze from those piercing green eyes down to her lips and back up again. You were so close. It would be so easy to kiss her if you wanted to.

And you really really did. At that moment you wanted to kiss her more than you've ever wanted anything in your life.

"Shit! The pasta sauce is bubbling over " exclaims Chessy and suddenly the moment is gone as you both spring into action.

____________________________ 1.

Turning to the next page of your book, Annie punctuates the silence with an exhausted sigh,

You ignore her.

She sighs again, this one even louder and more obnoxious than the last,

You slam your book closed throwing it onto your lap,

"Hmm...something the matter Annie?" You grin,

"Well...Chessy left her glasses on the table and is blind as a bat without them...do me a huge favour and go give them to her?"

You raise your eyebrow, Seriously?

"Well...I can't be bothered to go!?" Explains the Brit as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hallie looks away from the tv to join in on your conversation, frowning at her sister as though she had lost her mind, "Huh? Those glasses aren't eve-"

Annie cuts her off with a look.

Something was up here...but if you were being honest you were too happy to have an excuse to see Chessy to even bother to even attempt to figure out what.

You hesitate, before looking at your outfit, smoothing down your T-shirt,

You'd been laying around all afternoon...you didn't want to go in there looking like a mess.

"Well go on! If you take too long she's gonna confuse the salt with the sugar again" Nudges Hallie.

You don't move.

"...y/n?"

"Sorry it's just.." you shake your head, feeling like an idiot, you knew deep down you were being ridiculous but you couldn't help it.

"...do I look okay?"

The twins look at you, nonplussed and you can't say you can blame them, you normally oozed confidence so suddenly being flustered like this was even scaring you a little.

There was just something about Chessy that made you feel like you a teenager having your first schoolgirl crush again.

You laugh at yourself, discreetly fanning your face,

"It's just...you guys didn't tell me that..."

Hallie looks even more confused "Didn't tell you what?"

"You know...that Chessy was so.." a blush creeps up on your cheeks and realisation appears on Hallie's face as she turns to look at her sister, eyes wide.

Oh. Your best friend gives you an encouraging smile,

"You look amazing as usual...go and give Chessy her glasses princess charming" and you're shooed out of the room before you can even protest.

You don't even fully register the sensation of your feet moving until you find yourself in the entryway of the kitchen.

"You okay y/n?" begins Chessy, peering up at you from over her cup of coffee,

First thing you notice was the fact that she in fact already had a pair of glasses on.

You frown. "Uh...we saw you forgot your glasses so I was gonna bring these over to you"

She holds them up to her face to inspect them for a moment, perplexed before folding them again to place in her breast pocket.

"Huh. These are actually an old prescription so I'm not sure how they got there..."

You look liked a kicked puppy.

"But...thanks anyway Hon!" she smiles giving your shoulder a squeeze upon seeing the look on your face,

"Whilst you're here, I need someone to taste test this chilli for me...I mean I think it's the best thing I've ever tasted but who knows, I could be biased"

Loading up a spoon, she blows on it momentarily, hand cupped beneath it, before holding it up to you.

"Come on...I'm not gonna stand here all day!" she states with a snicker and you lean forward to allow her to slip the spoon into your mouth,

She shoots you an enchanting smile as you swallow.

"Good girl...was that so hard?"

What.

You chastise yourself for the place you just went to mentally before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

God, she was so hot.

"Come again?"

You'd said that out loud.

"The chilli I mean. The chili is so hot. But so good! I mean it's hot but it's like hot just to the right level. I think you'r--it's perfect!"

"The chilli! Really good"

You run a hand through your hair, face beet red as you turn around to flee the kitchen before things could possibly get any more embarrassing for you.

Chessy shakes her head with an empty chuckle as she turns to resume stirring the ladle in the pot,

Cute.

God she was losing her mind. _________________

2.

"Honestly don't worry about it sweetheart, do you want me to make you some soup?" You hear muttering outside your door and you poke your head out of the doorway, towel still wrapped around your hair to see what's going on.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Whispers the older woman as she turns around to look at you, her gaze wandering with a blush as she sees what you're wearing,

You look down at yourself realising you're wearing the skimpiest pair of pyjamas you own and scratch the back of your neck in embarrassment

"No it's okay...I'm an early riser, what's going on?"

"Annie was supposed to lend me an extra hand and tag along with me to the market to get stuff for the house and some last bits ready for the Thanksgiving dinner but she's not feeling well..."

You raise an eyebrow, Annie? Sick? That girl was never sick.

She shrugs throwing her hands in the air

"Never mind... I'll see if Hal is up to getting out of bed"

Both of you knew that hell would freeze over before Hallie 'don't bother me unless someone's dying' Parker-James got out of bed before eleven.

"No! No, I mean, you don't have to...I could go with you?" You offer, trying to hide the fact your heart was racing out of your chest.

"Chessy's face lights up

"I mean...if you're sure?"

"Yeah...you're in luck: I've got strong volleyball player arms so I can do all the heavy lifting for you too" you jest holding your arms up with a flex,

"Just give me a moment to change and I'll be down." ___

As you and Chessy walk back into the house arm in arm and rosy-cheeked from a day in the Californian sunshine, you're thankful that the others don't acknowledge how a trip to the market that should've taken an hour instead took you four. In return, neither of you opts to say anything about the fact that Annie who this morning was on her deathbed, seemed to have miraculously been cured of her illness upon your return.

And if the others catch you mooning over Chessy, whose smile was that little bit brighter that day, at the dinner table, they decide to chalk it up to coincidence and not say anything.

—

Chessy catches you after dinner, appearing slightly nervous as her hands are held behind her back.

"Hey I got you a little...you know, something to say thanks for your help today?"

she holds out a bouquet to you and you smile at her like you've just won the lottery.

You feel like you have.

"Freesias!" you exclaim giving them a sniff, practically bursting with joy,

"...you really didn't have to Chess" you beam, "I honestly had fun today...the market was fun.".

The housekeeper shrugs, eyes somehow managing to look even more glazed over over than yours.

"...they're gorgeous..." you begin shyly "...almost as gorgeous as you"

Chessy bursts into laughter,

"Real smooth. Do you use that trick on all your college girls?" She quips

You look back at her, eyes shining with reverence,

"Nope...freesias are my favourite so that's a compliment that I'd reserve for only the most beautiful of women" You state with a nod of your head.

Chessy giggles uncharacteristically before placing a hand over her mouth as though she didn't realise where the sound had come from.

Her laughter sounded like the tinkling of bells...you felt like your heart was going explode.

She shakes her head with a chuckle, "That's sweet" she murmurs, not believing you,

"I mean it. You really are! So beautiful…just gorgeous.”

You sigh, feeling yourself get lost again in those kind, soft green eyes.

You wondered what it would be like to kiss her...would she give you that same sweet laugh again? Or couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to trail your lips down her neck and see what kind of sounds she'd make.

You were getting ahead of yourself.

You've only known this woman for a couple of days and you were already acting head over heels for her.

"Sleep well Chessy." You smile sweetly with a sigh, before hurriedly turning to make your way up the stairs.

You miss the longing gaze directed at your retreating form as Chessy lets out a dreamy sigh.

__________________

"Hey, so I saw you helping Chess cook dinner again this afternoon...." Annie quips perching on the end of the bed,

"Oh Chessy! I'm so clueless I don't know how to roll pizza dough...can you show me how...with your mouth?" she mocks you, speaking in a high pitched voice and a faux American accent.

"That doesn't even make any sense." You deadpan,

Hallie bursts into laughter before joining in, giving you her best attempt of Chessy,

"Oh y/n hon, you're such a good helper! Can I sleep in your bed tonight so you can hold me with your big strong hands?" She jumps in, wrapping her arms around herself before launching into a round of kissing noises.

You bite your lip trying to stop yourself from laughing at your friends' theatrics...

"Real fucking mature guys...you're in your 20s by the way, just in case you forgot" you chuckle giving in to the humour of it.

Hallie ignores you, continuing with the kissing noises and you throw a pillow at her, the throw landing perfectly on her head with a satisfying thud,

Volleyball came in handy sometimes

"If you keep on fucking with me, I'm gonna put strawberries in your smoothies tomorrow morning when Chessy isn't looking" you tease, eyes narrowed as you give Annie a gentle shove

Your friend laughs, an inquisitive look on her face, "So what you're saying is....you're planning on waking up at the crack of dawn to help her cook breakfast..."

"Isn't that so interesting Hal?"

Hallie taps her chin, "Very Interesting..."

"You know what else is interesting Annie? The fact that Chessy has been making our friend over here special cups of peach tea like some kind of barista"

"...we don't even have peach tea in our pantry but I do know that it's y/n's favourite"

You pout, suddenly fascinated by a piece of lint on your sweater.

"Well...maybe she was just being nice and appreciated the help I gave her..."

Hallie placed her hands on her knees like she was sitting on a piece of top secret information before turning to face the group,

"Or...what about the fact that I saw Chessy reading y/n's copy of Great expectations yesterday"

"What!?" yells Annie in shock, jumping up with so much force she knocks her blackberry on the floor, the battery within it clattering to the floor beside it.

She looks at her sister mouth agape and Hallie nods her head enthusiastically in reply, "It's true! She was holding that book like it was a fucking bible or something"

"You tried to crucify me for even looking at your antiquarian book collection and Chessy has free reign over it after a couple of days!?"

"Oh you really do like her"

"What? No, I just lent them to her because she a- I was being nice! It was just a-...shut up." You stutter in resignation, face turning as red as the twins' hair

"Look anyway...does Chessy even swing that way?" You question inspecting your nails to fake casualness again.

Your friends look as you as though you were stupid.

"Seriously y/n? Do you know any straight women who own that many buttons ups? That's exclusively been her wardrobe for over 20 years by the way"

"she literally drives a pick up"

"Did she not tell you the story of why she and Martin split up?"

"Yeah because Martin was gay...so?" You question being met with a collective of groans at your obliviousness,

"Look y/n...none of us care that you've obviously got the hots for our nanny...but the tension between you guys at the dinner table is getting weird to the point that I feel like for everyone's sake you need to just go for it" explains Annie crouching down to talk to you the way a kindergarten teacher would to a student.

"Look we're all grown women here! Just sleep together and be done with it...you're grossing me out" adds Hallie with a playful eye roll

"Hal!"

Your best friends had the worst delivery you'd ever heard but maybe they had a point. Maybe you did just need to go for it. _____________________________

3.

It's just gone 13:30 when you pad softly into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you're still waking up from your nap.

"You? You're still here?" Snorts Chessy at the kitchen island, nose deep in today's paper but somehow still sensing you before you could even got a word out.

You perk up as you walk over to where she's stood.

"Oh please, you love having me around! You're definitely gonna miss me" You bite back, laughter in your tone

"Yeah..."

The truth is you and Chessy had been spending a lot of time together and tomorrow was your last day in Napa. You'd be lying if the thought of leaving the place, no, the thought of leaving Chessy didn't make your heart ache.

"You seem really invested in that paper...haven't even looked at me once...How'd you even know it was me?"

With a dramatic sigh, she neatly folds the newspaper before placing it on the table in front of her with a flourish and you grin as you finally get to see her face...it was quickly becoming the highlight of your day.

She was glowing... she probably had no makeup on either and still looked breathtaking. But that was just Chessy; stunning,even without trying.

"I don't know...just did." She explains simply, looking at you with a warm smile.

And boy was it warm.

You felt your insides turning to mush again and you lean against the countertop behind you to keep yourself upright.

Sure you were in California but Chessy had one of those smiles that you think could warm you up even on the coldest day...heck you reckoned her smile could probably melt the ice caps.

She casts an appraising look at your outfit, and you ask yourself if you imagined the lingering gaze on your chest,

"Where are you off to looking so sharp?" She asks after a while, eyes darkening,

Oblivious, you give her a twirl with your arms out by your sides before tucking your sunhat back under your arm

"You like?"

"you look gorgeous y/n" She remarks sincerely, gaze unwavering and you turn around momentarily, tucking your lips into your mouth to suppress your grin.

"I was supposed to go out for a picnic with the girls but, I overslept a little and now can't find them...I need your help with that actually..."

"I'm supposed to meet them at some spot by a tree? I was gonna walk down but I don't know where it is."

Her eyes light up in recognition,

"I know where they mean...but walk!?"

"It's at least a mile and a half out...on the trails...you're better off riding there"

"Riding?"

_____

Chessy watches on with her hands in her pockets as you reach out to gingerly to pet the horse,

Sure you were good with animals...but by that you meant ones that were a little...smaller. Like house pets.

Take dogs for example, (especially sweethearts like Sammy) they were easy; give them belly rubs and slide them a couple pieces of chicken and they'd be anyone's best friend.

"Hmm...that's Annie's horse..." The housekeeper states after a while,

"Hallie's horse is gone so I'm assuming they're waiting for you to catch up with them"

"I feel like I already know the answer, but do you know how to ride a horse?" Chessy asks softly,

"Uh, no" You reply incredulous with a head shake.

She sighs, a small smile on her lips before climbing on

"Guess I'm gonna have to give you a ride then...hop on hon" She starts holding a hand out and you look anywhere but at Chessy,

You had a feeling this wouldn't end well

"Today hopefully," she nudges and you sigh softly, taking her hand with a sheepish grin as she helps you get on the horse behind her,

"Never ridden a horse?...You city slickers" she playfully mumbles to herself with a soft shake of her head grabbing your hands to place them on her waist,

"Look it'll be fine...I'll take care of you" she reminds you, clearly sensing your nerves and you barely manage to suppress a shudder,

Take care of you huh?

"Actually I'm from a small town in Georgia." you quip in reply, refusing to acknowledge her first statement and admit your fear.

Chessy teasingly scoffs and you feel her shoulders shake with laughter, giving away the fact that she's joking,

"Yeah, yeah...that's what they all say. You holding on tight?"

You do as told, tightening your grip to wrap your arms around her waist as you lean your head against the older woman's back,

"Yeah."

And the two of you take off.

As the wind blows through your hair you take deep breaths to inhale the musky, floral scent of her perfume closing your eyes and as if it would somehow burn it into your memory.

She smelt like wood fire , and lilies and coffee and you suddenly feel that same pang in your chest at the thought of going home in a couple of days time.

You seriously really needed to get it together...it'd been 10 days. But you don't know if you could.

As you stop to a halt, Chessy expertly dismounts the horse, turning around to hold a hand out to help lift you down after her:

Or course you completely tumble head first and Chessy helps you to your feet, non-judging and patient as per usual.

"How are you so good at that?" You ask with a blush,

"I live and work on a 60 acre vineyard so I had to learn" she explains with a gentle shrug.

You turn to survey the scene:

There was absolutely no sign of Hallie and Annie.

The apple tree that Annie and Hallie had advised you to meet them at was indeed there, a picnic blanket laid on the lush green grass, adorned with a spread that you think belonged on a lifestyle magazine; candles nestled amongst a display of grapes and chocolate coloured strawberries, and fancy cheeses and glasses of wine.

It looked really romantic. Oh.

Hold on a minute...romantic candlelit meal? That sounded familiar.

Chessy crouches down to pick up a piece of paper wedged beneath the basket and unfolds it leaning closer so the two of you could read it:

Chessy and Y/N,

Enjoy your picnic! Thank us later :)

-Annie and Hal xx p.s don't do anything I wouldn't do! ;) -Hal

You look at each other in realisation clearly having just come to the same conclusion.

Hallie and Annie's matchmaking trap.

You really should’ve known...The twins had told you about how they got their parents (back together) when they were 10.... you'd even helped Hallie reenact a similar plan like this to set Annie up with a girl on the cheer team she had a crush on.

Step 1 and 2 were "spontaneous" meet-cutes and step 3 was a romantic candlelit dinner.

The only thing was...what had been step 1 and 2 of the girls' plan?

Chessy bursts into laughter

"They set us up on a picnic date huh?" She smiles shaking her head looking at the spread,

"We've been parent trapped..."

You look across at Chessy and for the first time since you've met her, she looks unsure of what to do.

"Look..." you begin,

"we might aswell enjoy their effort before we head back...I suppose the food does look good" You smile and Chessy relents, her hand sitting on the small of your back as she guides you to sit down beside her.

She gives you a look you can't quite recognise before picking up one of the glasses of red wine, and downing it in a single gulp.

It you didn't know any better you'd say she looked...nervous.

That made two of you.

For the second time today you have to stop yourself from losing your cool. The goosebumps forming on your arms give you away regardless.

"You cold?" Whispers Chessy, taking off her button up without a second thought and draping it over your shoulders

"I get to wear one of the Chessy's famous button ups?" you hum as the taller woman smooths it down over your shoulders 

"I know," she agrees playing into your joke, "Guess you must be really special."

She's wearing a tight tank top beneath it and you give an appraising glance at the cleavage now on show, in turn earning a smirk from Chessy. Your gaze then drifts down to the freckles dusted on her arms and you reach out to skate your fingers across them, smirking at the way Chessy shivers.

"...I am."

"...I'm really gonna miss you when I go." You sigh sadly after a while,

Chessy takes your hand in hers, "I'm really gonna miss you too."

You look up at her in surprise, being met with a pensive look from the older woman.

Just go for it y/n. Fuck it.

With a shuddering breath you allow yourself one last glance at her plump lips before leaning in an-

Chessy places her hands on your sternum to stop you a sheepish look on her face,

You frown.

Were you being rejected? Oh, God this was humiliating.

You quickly began to pull away to stand up but she doesn't release her grip on your arm,

"wait...please?" she begs, looking at you conflicted

"Look, you're in your 20s...you sure you want this?”she explains

“Don't you want a nice college girl who's your age? That would be a lot less complicated..."

"I'm sure a hot young thing like you wouldn't have any issues finding someone in your class."

That's all this was about?

You shake your head with a smile, looking at her like she'd just said the most ridiculous thing in the world,

"Sure, I'm young. But Im also a grown woman. I know what I want and I want you."

"You're witty, outspoken and gorgeous , and compassionate...I've just...I've never met anyone like you and I won't forgive myself if I don't at least tr-"

you're interrupted as Chessy cuts you off with a bruising kiss and you let out a squeak of surprise before relaxing into it with a whimper,

You push her onto her back with a giggle, straddling her waist as you lift your hands to her cup her face, trying to pull her as close to you as possible.

Her lips were soft and warm against yours and she parted them slightly with a groan to allow your tongue to slip inside. Chessy tasted sweet; like red wine and strawberries and future lazy afternoons spent cuddling beneath the napa sun...like hope.

Breathless, you begrudgingly pull away from her, leaning your forehead against hers, up close like this you could see every single little detail on her face;

The laughter lines that were deepest beside her eyes, the way the slithers of sunlight, peeking through the leaves of the tree illuminated little specks of brown that danced around in her eyes, her swollen pouty lips that now had your lipstick all over them

She was the most gorgeous thing you'd ever seen.

You let out an airy laugh but you couldn't pinpoint what at...relief, happiness,just general amusement at the situation?

You got the girl. You really did need to thank the twins later.

Chessy chuckles too, turning to press a soft kiss against your palm, hands slowly snaking up your thighs.

"...Just incase we haven't covered it already...I want you too."

[lovableapocalypse]

the 1

bassist!remus x fem!reader

wc- 800 ish

warnings- swearing, alcohol, fluff?

a/n- watching the oscars inspired me to write an award show fic lol. also i chose the brits bc theyre british idek. another thing ik this picture is alexa chung but i just want to preface reader has no description except blushing and i do not picture her in any way specific i just liked this picture. lastly ive been so unmotivated to write so i tried tonight but ive been hating everything i write so the longer chapter im working on is taking awhile but its coming. im like 2k deep and not even halfway into the plot lol. anyway love u all.

The champagne you had been consuming tonight brought a heavy flush to your skin. The round table you all were surrounding was decorated elegantly and littered with drinks. Your head was perched in your fist and a look of awe was evident on your features. This was the boy's second year attending the Brits but it still ceased to amaze you. 

It was easy to forget they were a largely appreciated group now and these luxury events were a part of that. You were more dressed up than you think you’d ever been. Remus had wrapped his arms around you from behind when you were putting the finishing touches on, meeting your gaze in the mirror. He looked more than attractive in his simple black suit and his lips pressed to your neck, “You look beautiful.” Your face lit up at his words and your heart melted even at his most simple compliments. 

You, the band, and the team’s managers were all watching the current artist perform on stage and Remus had his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders. They were nominated in the next category and you could tell the boys were tense. You moved to sit up straight and glanced at Remus. He caught your gaze and warmly smiled at you. You returned the gesture and leaned into him. 

“Even if you don’t win, I’ll still love you.”

He laughed, “Good to know.”

You smiled against him and rested your hand on his thigh, squeezing. The artist on stage finished and the room felt crowded with anticipation for the next award- Best Group. The band was up against some impressive names, but they’d put in the hard work and you believed they deserved to win. 

You could feel Remus’ hold on you grow intense as the announcers walked on stage. Your heart was racing and you could hardly retain what they were saying, catching certain words as your mind fluttered. Impressive. Best. Wonderful. Praise was floating around the room as short descriptions of the nominated bands played for the audience. 

When the last clip played, a cute montage of the boys sitting around you, and the woman on stage reached for the envelope, you held your breath. Remus grabbed your hand, squeezing it in his fist. You returned the gesture and glanced at the boys around you. James and Sirius leaned close to one another, Lily clutching James’ hand nearby. Peter was resting his face on his palm, their manager clutching his back. 

The boy’s had been invited to the ceremony last year under the Best New Band/Music category, but with only an EP out they hadn’t expected anything. And while their wins were unsuccessful, the experience itself had been amazing. 

This year the boys had produced a number one album and had been traveling all over the UK for shows. They had been dreaming of this moment, but were too scared to admit they might win- or lose. 

Your fingers were aching and time slowed as you anticipated the reveal. Your breath held still, you swore you heard wrong when both announcers shouted, “The Marauders!!!”

You gasped and reached for Remus as he sprouted out of his seat. You followed and he pulled you into him, smashing his lips against yours. You laughed and returned the gesture. Breaking away, you shared a yell of excitement and he squeezed your arms tightly. You both turned to the table, celebrating quickly as they moved towards the stage. 

Everyone’s smile was bright and unbelieving. You hugged Lily close as they greeted the announcers and moved to the mic. Sirius, the frontman he was, grabbed the award and lifted it up in appreciation. You cheered along with everyone and watched as he glanced at his bandmates in shock. 

“Fuck. Wow. Thank you.” He laughed. 

James threw his arms around Remus and Peter behind Sirius and they all grinned like madmen. Your hands moved over your face in shock, unbelievably proud of your boys and how far they’ve come. Sirius thanked their fans and the other bands nominated and finished with a group hug with his best mates. 

They shuffled off the stage and came back over in an adrenaline induced state. You hugged James, Peter, and lastly Sirius who held you close and whispered his love to you. Remus approached you again with a beautiful, bashful smile on his face. He kissed you sweetly and wrapped his arms tightly around you. 

When you sat back down you barely paid any attention to the ceremony and you took turns holding the award and admiring it. 

Remus pulled you close to his side again and moved his hand to your exposed thigh. He gently slid his hand up, whispering, “I just want to go home now and celebrate.” You subtly bit your lip, “Hmm. That sounds nice. Can’t believe I get to go home with a real rock star.” He laughed at the nickname and kissed your lips, muttering an ‘I love you’ under his breath.