#keep an eye out for the first one which will be posted later today!

[drchucktingle]

my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

[morphids]

break up with your boyfriend, ellie williams

pairing: bestfriend!ellie x afab, curly haired,bi!reader (college au)

chapter: one shot (8k words whoops my finger slipped got my asd diagnosis today lol ig that explains that) proofread but if there's errors idk what to tell u

warnings: explicit sexual content, 18+ so minors dni, subish!ellie, loserlesbian ellie, poc friendly!! drug mentions, marijuana usage, friends to lovers, angst?? ellie gets her coochie ate, so does reader, fingering, ✂️✂️, all that good stuff, they essentially worship each other, cheating (not by reader but sus behaviours n thoughts fs) (tw::: men bf’s a dickspawn imsorry) homophobia.

summary: you have a horrible boyfriend, ellie’s always hated him. 

a/n: full word vomit im sorry if its ass but also i kinda lost my composure writing this 🤭🫣😵‍💫

AS ALWAYS FUCK DRUCKMANN AND ALL ZIONISTS, resources for Palestine and the daily click linked on my pinned post!

**

You were tired, drained. Hours had passed and you and your boyfriend were still at it. Angry words and misunderstood sentences all throughout the day had resulted in yet another fight between you.

"Dean, I've said it so many times, I can't go through it again,"

Dean, your boyfriend of a few months had a rocky track record, from keeping in close contact with his ex, to not telling interested girls that he's not single. The situation was always the same, you'd express your discomfort with something and he'd get angry, defensive. Then, eventually after so much arguing would get you to 'realise' that it's no big deal, that you shouldn't have reacted that way at all and in fact, you should apologise to him for making him feel like a cheater.

You had considered breaking up with him, so many times, in fact. Yet, you simply couldn't bring yourself to do it, still holding out with hope that things will improve.

"Baby, I swear nothing is going on, she's just my friend."

"Fine, okay." You ceased, feeling mentally drained by hours of conflict, "I have to go, need to meet Ellie, we have that test soon."

"You're leaving?" Dean said, clearly still agitated and pumping from the fight,

"Yes, Dean," you sighed, glancing in the mirror to double-check that your makeup hadn't been ruined from the previous crying, "I told you, this exam is really important," In other words, you have more things to be worrying about than your issues with him.

Gathering your books and piling them into your tote bag, you felt Dean's eyes on you, silently steaming as he saw you pick up your books.

"I'll see you later," Without looking back, you grabbed your keys from the side of the door and headed out.

He always had a problem with Ellie, which you couldn't understand, she was always supportive and kind to you. What reason would he have to dislike her?

You had been friends ever since that first physics class three years ago, you had sat in the row in front of her, over fifteen minutes into the lecture had passed until you felt a tap at your shoulder. Turning, you were greeted with green eyes and a smiling face adorned with light freckles.

"Hey, you got a spare pen?" She looked bashful, almost embarrassed that she hadn't been prepared even for the first class of the year. A half smile was placed on her lips. Amused, you gladly handed her a pen, pleased that you had an abundance of pens neglected at the bottom of your tote bag. You were always prepared, just not the most organised.

At the end of the lecture, she tried to hand you back the pen, but you refused and insisted she kept it, was she planning on asking someone for every class she had? That was just inefficient.

When you wouldn't accept the pen back, she ripped out a rough square from a page of her notebook, scribbling her number quickly so she could pay you back for the pen. 

You had been friends ever since, there was something that just worked. She had been there long before Dean and you would be damned if he was to get in the way of your friendship.

You had reached Dina and Ellie's place, they both shared the accommodation whilst you lived in a one-bed en-suite in a dorm. Dean lived at his fraternity, which you always hated going to meaning you spent most of the time at your place instead. 

Knocking, you only waited for a few seconds until the door swung open, revealing Ellie, clad in a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. The open door had caused a draught to haze through the air, the faint scent of smoke and music softly playing at a low volume.

"Hey, you." She spoke, smiling that usual smile that was seemingly tattooed on her lips. Ellie moved out of the doorway to let you in, closing the door behind you as you stepped into the familiar, comforting living room.

"Hey," your tone must have not been well received, as it prompted a,

"Well, what's gotten into you?"

"I've had the worst day, Dean-" you were interrupted by a slightly exaggerated groan, with an added,

"What has he done this time?"

"Ellie.." you sighed, dropping your tote from your shoulder and to the floor, kneeling down to pull out your books and pens.

"I'm serious," she threw her hands up, leaning against the edge of the desk where her work had been all set out already, "He's always up to some bullshit."

Ellie was confused, annoyed actually as you explained the situation to her. In her head, as a lesbian, the solution to these kinds of issues was so, so obvious to her; break up with him, he's not worth it. She had repeated this rhetoric to many of her men-loving friends, all of which refused to listen to her only to turn out heartbroken in the end, anyway.

"I wasn't exactly being rational either," you tried to explain, not that you were making excuses for him, but you felt a certain need to defend your relationship with Ellie. She was always so judgemental of the people you dated. You knew deep down that it was her way of looking out for you, she had consistently been the one to bring you comfort during your relationship breakdowns. And there had been a few of them.

"Don't do that, that's exactly what he wants," She spoke sympathetically, her words very soft considering that, mentally she was currently fighting Dean, and winning.

What was wrong with these guys? Ellie thought, you had dated some specimens before, but this new fraternity bro, Dean? She couldn't stand him.

Seemingly fuelled by his returned distaste towards her, but she knew the real reason why.

He was a pig. Flirting with any girl that'd give him attention, Ellie had caught him at parties with drunk girls hanging off his arms, inches away from their faces, centimetres away from cheating. Only for him to charm his way out of it when you confronted him. It pained her to see you go through this, especially when there were so many options out there. Like her, for example.

To be frank, Ellie's asking for that pen three years ago hadn't been entirely innocent. Whilst, it wasn't a lie per se, as she did, in fact, not have a pen on her first day, making her feel like the worst student on the planet.

She had taken notice of you when you first walked into that physics class. Eyeliner, framing the outer corners of your eyes and tight curly hair that lay perfectly around your face caught her attention. You were so beautiful, she knew she had to talk to you.

As you two had gotten to know each other over those first few months, her little crush had evolved from simple attraction to a full-blown, 'would rip the sun out of the sky if it meant seeing you smile', feelings situation. Whilst her initial intention had been to try and flirt a little bit, over time (really didn't take that long) Ellie realised that you were something special. The bond and groove you had as platonic friends was too great to risk ruining it all. So she decided, her feelings shouldn't be the thing to damage it. Ellie being Ellie, didn't know how to deal with said feelings, so she had made a pact with herself to never act on them, never expect anything other than platonic behaviour on your part, and never, ever let you find out. So whilst you dated, so did she.

"Anyways, can we talk about, literally anything else now? Like our exam that we have in a few days, perhaps?" You hummed, kicking your shoes off and sprawling on her couch, reaching down into your bag for something you had saved for this exact moment.

"Right, 'cos studying is the reason why you're laying dead on my couch right now." Ellie chuckled, joining you and holding your legs up to settle her body on the couch as well, before placing your legs on top of her lap.

"What are you even looking for?"

"Just wait, you'll see." You responded, still rooting through the bag, god where is it?

"Well, not if you can't find it in that damn bag, how do you even find anything in those?"

"Shut up," you chuckled, feeling better already. That's something you loved about Ellie, no matter what would happen to you, a few minutes with her and you'd feel like you had taken uppers.

"Ah, finally," you breathed out, fishing out a single joint that had become embarrassingly bent in the trauma that is, being an object lost inside the bottom of a tote bag.

Ellie laughed when her eyes caught sight of the bent joint, rubbing her eyes as they started to tear from the entertainment.

"You didn't have to go through that much effort to pull out that monster, plus you know I always have enough here, we don't need to smoke yours."

"It may look unfortunate, but this is the best shit in town right now." You tried to sell, "Got it from Xav,"

"Xav? How did you manage that?"

"One of Dean's frat brothers put in a huge order with him and sold me some, thought I'd save it so we could smoke it together." 

"You truly know the way to my heart," Ellie gushed, before leaning over your legs, to grab the closest ashtray and a lighter, passing it to you, roller's rights, after all.

"This doesn't look like studying, though," Ellie spoke, eyes falling to your lips as they wrapped over the end of the joint, sparking and taking a drag. She excused her thoughts.

"I just want some peace before I have to focus on work, you know?" You said, exhaling out the smoke.

Ellie sighed, knowing Dean was truly taking a toll on you, she watched as your face fell, obviously being reminded of the previous events. She wishes there was more she could do, how many times could she say leave him, before it sounded too obvious? Too pushy? Too out of line?

"Fuck him, don't worry about that for now. You're with me, this is a Dean-free zone." Ellie cheered, taking the lit joint as you passed it to her.

You felt her fingers trail random lines and shapes on your leg as she smoked, probably not even aware she was doing it. It was comfortable and set off a wave of sleepiness to hit you.

Ellie passed you the joint back,

"You going to that party tonight?" She asked,

"I don't know, I think Dean wants to go but I was planning on sitting this one out,"

"Why don't you come? Dina and Jesse will also be there, so you don't have to spend the whole party with him,"

"Fine, only because I haven't seen Dina and Jesse for a while,"

"I can live with that," she chuckled.

Deciding you were no longer comfy in that position, you lifted your legs up off Ellie, before manoeuvring your body so that you were sat side by side. Passing the joint back to her, you rested your head on her shoulder. What you didn't notice was Ellie's visible tensing the second you laid your head on her.

It wasn't like it was unusual behaviour from you, yet she reacted like this every time. 

"What do you think of it?"

"Fuck yeah, it's good," she swallowed, head turning to glance over at you resting your head comfortably on her shoulder, "You falling asleep down there?"

"No..." you mumbled, your voice visibly getting quieter as you were getting sleepier. You were just so tired. Constant arguing with Dean, working or studying. You needed a break, plus Ellie had a habit of being super comfortable to nap on.

"You sure?"

"No..."

"It's alright, have a nap, we’ll study later."

Ellie chuckled, she continued smoking the joint to its ends, relaxed by the sound of your breathing as you fell asleep. She took the opportunity to observe you for a minute, you looked peaceful, a hell of a lot more peaceful than you were when you first entered. She wished that you could always be that content, at peace. Ellie wanted you to be happy, whether with her or not, she just didn't want you so stressed and drained by yet another unhealthy relationship.  

It was then she took time to think, how messy the situation had truly become.

—

After your nap, you and Ellie actually did finally study, spending a few hours going over the course material and sharing notes. With a few distractions here and there, but successful nonetheless.

You were back at home, Dean seemingly long gone back to his own place, as you got yourself dressed for this party. Texting Ellie that you were ready, you awaited her knock on your door, as your place was a bit closer to the party you decided you'd make your way there together and you'd crash back at your house later.

Once she arrived, you two made your way to the party, it was in the next block of student accommodation, so it was only a quick walk.

Before long, you had reached the party, greeted by its loudness with thumping music and loud chatter.

"It's fucking packed," you complained, already nervous. The bass of the loud music echoing in your chest, exacerbating the anxiety you felt.  

"It will be okay, let's go find Dina and Jesse,"

It took a few glances to land on them but they had been settled in a corner with two other girls. One with short black hair and the other with long, blonde hair.

Making your way towards them, Dina spotted you and Ellie and eagerly waved you guys over to their spot.

"Bitch! Where have you been?" Dina questioned, and truly it had been an unreasonable amount of time since you'd seen her, which is weird considering how often you were at her and Ellie's place.

"Don't get me started," you sighed, whilst smiling at her and wrapping your arms around her.

"Well, it's good to see you, we missed you!" Gesturing towards herself and Jesse, who took his cue to also greet you.

Dina introduced you to her friends who were also sitting with them, the one with black hair was introduced as Cat, and the blonde was called Abby.

They were nice but you weren't too sure about the dark-haired one, she seemed a bit standoffish to you, only, but welcoming and friendly to everyone else in your group, and especially to Ellie. You noted it and placed the thought at the back of your head for dissection later.

In the ten minutes you had been there, Dean had spotted you and walked over. Causing an eye roll to come from Ellie,

"Hey, you're here!" He was drunk, words slurred and eyes heavily lidded. How much had he already had to drink?

Wrapping his arms around your waist, and nuzzling his face into your neck, the scent of alcohol lingered on him and you found that you didn't want him to be that close to you.

Your eyes met Ellie's briefly before she quickly looked away and took a long sip from her cup, which had been filled up with some vodka and whiskey mixed with some chaser by Dina. She turned her head away from you and began talking to Cat, faces a lot closer than most people. 

You tore your eyes away from their interaction, turning to face Dean.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Dean shrugged, too incapacitated to care too much before making his way back to some of his frat brothers. Yuck.

You were making your way to the bathroom, hoping to find the right door, but you weren't successful the first time, the second or the third. You were starting to wonder how many goddamn rooms were in this place until you finally reached it, and it was of course labelled with a stupid little diy frat sticker that said 'bathroom' featuring other, more immature graffiti. Apt, you thought.

The light was on but the door was slightly ajar, thinking nothing of it you walked in believing it to be empty. The room was also, of course, occupied. You mentally laughed at your own bad luck as you saw Abby sneaking a cigarette out the window. Her body perched up on the windowsill as she breathed the smoke out the open gap.

"Shit- oh it's just you," she chuckled, holding her hand on her heart indicating that you had slightly frightened her, clearly from her doing something she isn't supposed to be doing.

"Sorry, thought it was empty," you said, turning your body towards the door in an effort to leave her to it,

"You don't have to leave I'm just smoking this before any of my team sees me,"

That brought a smile to reach your lips,

"Why are you sneaking cigarettes like a 16 year old?"

"Athletes aren't really meant to smoke, but shit happens. I just don't want to hear it from coach." She mumbled taking her final drag, throwing the butt out the window.

"I'll take it to my grave," You promised, making a little zip motion on your lips.

"All yours," she smiled, making her way out of the bathroom.

"I won't take long, we can head down to the group together,"

So you did, exiting the bathroom, Abby smiling at you,

"Let's go?"

"Sure,"

You had travelled down the stairs, engaging in random, friendly small talk until you had reached everyone. Abby sat back down next to Dina and Jesse, who were ranting amongst themselves, whilst Cat and Ellie had been left to their own devices. Now, you and Ellie had been friends for a while, you kinda knew what she looked like when she was flirting with girls. And this was definitely that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean respawning in your face again,

"Wanna explain that?"

That completely broke you out of your little trance, explain what?

"What?"

"Why were you in the bathroom with her?"

"She was-" you remembered your promise to her, "We were just chatting, nothing weird happened, if that's what you're thinking."

He grabbed your wrist and walked with you to a quieter corner of the room,

"Why are you lying?"

"Dean, nothing happened we were chatting because she was in there when I walked in,"

"Do you know what she is?"

"I just met her today, Dean," You didn't want to deal with this right now, Ellie had said she was going to try and help you escape Dean tonight and instead she got annoyed by his presence and began flirting with Cat.

"What is with you and hanging out with all of those d-...", he trailed off,

"Those what, Dean?" You were beyond angry at this point, you didn't like what he was implying.

"You know, all those le-"

"Hey," your altercation was interrupted, "Everything cool?" Ellie was looking between you both, eyebrows furrowed as she looked you over, gauging the situation. She knew you could fight your own battles, but when a drunk man is getting too handsy on someone it's always good practice to remain vigilant.

"We're fine." He said, his words less slurred now, a bit more pissed off. Egged on by the fact that his very point had just interrupted him.

"Oh yeah?" She pressed, making sure to look at you when she asked, having watched the interaction since he dragged you away.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you added, trying to give her a grateful look with your eyes, whether she got the message or not wasn't confirmed. Ellie wasn't one to let things go, but then she asked you if you wanted to be left alone with him and when you simply said 'Yeah I can deal with this," there was nothing more she could do without being too out of line. 

Sighing to herself, she dragged her feet back to the group, silently warring with herself over her actions, wondering if she put her nose in someone else's business or whether she didn't act enough. She had decided that was enough for the night, she'd try and focus on something else.

Whilst you were frustrated; you didn't want to explain the situation to her yet, at this point.

"Dean I don't like what you're trying to say, I don't want to be near you right now, we can talk about this at home."

"Sure, whatever." He walked off. You exhaled a sigh that had been festering in your chest for a while.

Wandering back to Dina, Jesse and Abby, noticing a considerable lack of Ellie and Cat. But at least you could clear your mind, Dina offered you another drink- which you gladly took.

You were in conversations with your friends, a good amount of minutes had passed and you finally caught sight of Ellie. You felt your heart twitch, your stomach churning at the sight.

Ellie was engaged in some heated make-out with that Cat, her hands tightly wrapped around the back of the girl's neck. The lights of the room bounced off her skin, illuminating them in deep reds and blues, as their lips moved against each other. It was hot, you couldn't lie. Perhaps the alcohol had hit you a lot more than you thought. You had seen Ellie in action, but not in action.

You felt yourself start to stare, lost in the sight of Ellie until you felt your breathing start to quicken and your legs fidgeting. You had to pull your eyes away, shaming yourself in your head for even looking that long, like a damned pervert.

Taking another sip of your drink, your thoughts trailed, you wondered what it would feel like to be in Cat's position, to feel Ellie's passionate grasp and soft lips against yours. You wondered if her kisses would feel loving and warm, not cold like you were used to.

You quickly dismissed your thoughts, blaming it on the alcohol, wondering what was spurring this on, all of a sudden.

You soon decided it was probably time to head home, the party had lived its course and you were in a worse mood than when you first got there. Mission failed, indeed.

Saying your goodbyes to Dina, Jesse and Abby you made your way through the dance floor to Ellie.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out," You interrupted a conversation occurring between Ellie and Cat.

"Oh, you sure?" She glanced between you and Cat, "Will you be okay getting home?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm gonna find Dean and we're gonna go,"

"Oh," her face soured, "You're really still going home with that guy?"

"Well..." you stilled, you didn't exactly want to, but you knew he wouldn't give up until he got to say his piece, regardless of where you were, "We have stuff to talk about, I guess." Your voice and tone sound beaten, tired.

"I see," She glanced you over, hesitant, as if she was about to say something but then changed her mind. You could almost see thoughts flying in her eyes. 

"See you later," Cat smiled at you, though it didn't quite reach the corners of her eyes, no crease of skin. Everything seemed polite on the surface, but there were weird undertones in her voice, indifference. The vibe of that was definitely weird, right?

"Yeah,"

With that, you found Dean and left to go home.

—

Panting, you were panting. Heavy breaths mixed with sloppy touches in the darkness of red and blue lights.

You pulled away, glancing at Ellie, the corners of her plump lips curling into a smirk as she caressed your thighs. Fingers teasing near your entrance, you were completely ready for her touch, dripping, waiting.

"I can't wait to taste you, baby." she spoke, her words soft but with a hint of a growl that excited you, eager for what was about to come.

Then your eyes split open, and you were lay on your bed, hours had passed and you had been fast asleep. Sleep came easy, induced by the alcohol you had consumed, as you realised you had just been dreaming.

It took you a few seconds to stir and become conscious of what you had been dreaming about. Then the shame hit. What the fuck was that?

It didn't last long though, before you heard Dean's voice,

"That was hot,"

You slightly jumped at the surprise of his voice, not expecting him to have been awake and especially aware that you were having a dream of such nature, about your best friend of all people.

"You got me all hard, babe." You suddenly felt too overwhelmed, flashes of Ellie's lips and fingers cursed your mind as Dean's voice was mixed into your thoughts.

Confusion and panic hit your senses, you didn't want to look at Dean's expecting face when your mind was still reeling with the faint remnants of being under Ellie's warm and comforting touch, even in the astral plane, your body still warm and wanting. But not for him. Disgust overwhelmed your veins, poisoning the air in your lungs as you realised you couldn't think of anything worse than him touching you. It was as if that dream had been a message, a sign that this wasn't what you wanted. Or deserved. A sudden unexpected epiphany.

You quickly shot up and ran to the bathroom, no words spoken between you as you closed the door. Ensuring space between you both.

You sighed and grabbed at the roots of your hair, thinking of how utterly fucked this is.

You thought back to Ellie, would she be disgusted at your thoughts? Would she feel weird and uncomfortable if she knew you had been thinking of her that way? Her best, and very platonic, friend. She definitely isn't interested, you thought, remembering the way she had grabbed Cat closer to her and embraced her in a kiss that could only enflame your very being. Jealous. You realised, that's what that feeling was. It seemed to occur a lot regarding Ellie, that feeling.

Dean's voice blared through the door, reverberating through the walls.

"It's about that blond bitch isn't it?" Your eyebrows pulled together, fucks sake.

"Dean, please." It was stupid o'clock in the morning, the last thing you wanted was yet another argument.

"I knew those fucking lesbians would fuck with your head, you've always been a stupid woman, following whoever gives you attention."

His words hurt, and doubly pissed you off. How dare he? Those were your friends he was talking about.

You opened the door, Dean all blotchy and red in the face, fuelled by the past months of his bullshit and borderline abuse, this was the final nail. He was not about to say disgusting things and expect no repercussions. Lifting your hand, you put your entire back into connecting your palm with his cheek, made real by the smacking sound of skin, loud as a gunshot in the dark hours of the night contrasting the silence of no other surrounding sound in the dorms.

"Fuck you, Dean. I'm over this, get out." You stared him right in the eye as he rubbed the throbbing skin of his cheek to alleviate some pain. You couldn't help but feel a hint of relief that it had actually hurt him, as horrid as that sounds. You weren't a violent person, by any means, yet the continuous accusations, the newly exposed homophobia, his vile behaviour - it had to be done. You were done letting him treat you like that.

"I don't need you anyway, can find ten other girls that'd give me what I want."

"Go do that, then." You huffed, wondering why you hadn't done this earlier.

"Already have, sweetheart." He smirked, eyes glinting as he finally lifted the shroud of lies he had been filling your head with. You always knew deep down, you just chose to ignore it. Worms in the brain feasting at any rational thought and your self-respect. You didn't find it in yourself to get angrier.

"Get out of my house, Dean." You finalised, arms crossed over your chest, you just hoped he'd go willingly.

"You're not worth it, anyway." He cements, body turning to put on his shoes, chuckling as his heavy presence finally leaves your door.

You let out a breath, relief, shame and anger seeping into the deepest part of your being.

You were glad he's gone, truly. You just wish you had killed it sooner. Ellie was right, he ain't shit.

You sat on the edge of your bed, suddenly finding that the dark, empty space in your room was doing you no favours.

Pulling out your phone, you drafted a text to Ellie,

3.47 a.m:  you awake?

It was a long shot, you almost gave up on a response for tonight until you felt your phone buzz.

3.49 a.m:  ..always

3.49 a.m:  whats up?

Your lips tilted into a weak smile, before responding,

3.50 a.m:  u should be sleeping rn!

3.50 a.m:  umm so should u

3.51 a.m:  whats wrong?

Sighing, you had to bite the bullet, already started it now.

3.52 a.m:  he's an asshole, i broke up with him

A few minutes passed, and you wondered what was taking so long even though in the grand scheme of time it was only a few seconds, really. It was just anticipation, time felt dragged out awaiting her response. You didn't know that Ellie was laying on her bed feverishly typing, deleting and re-typing, overthinking how to respond. She wanted to say, 'I knew this' and how she was happy he was gone because he was a loser who didn't deserve you anyway. How she never liked him. Ellie didn't want to be insensitive, though, lest she hurt your feelings further. 

3.57 a.m: how are you feeling?

3.58 a.m:  im just glad he's gone tbh

3.58 a.m: had to be done

Ellie couldn't help the hint of a smile that fought its way onto her features, she typed her response. Picking at the dry skin around her thumb with her teeth as she sent her next message, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

3.59 a.m: he didn't deserve you anyway, you're too good for that.

You felt a warmth rush through you, stomach tightening as you read into her words. You wished that she meant it, that her feelings matched yours. Your mind thinks back to Cat, instantly murdering any hope in your heart.

You don't remember when your feelings for Ellie began to change, but looking back on it, you had felt so unsatisfied, seldom comfortable with your past lovers. Ellie was the only person who knew you, truly. Who had loved you and made you feel so safe, her comforting presence always soothing you, you felt like a person around Ellie. Whole. It had just taken some time for life to knock some sense into you to realise. It has always been Ellie. 

4.01 a.m: want me to come to you or you wanna come here?

4.01 a.m: it's so late you don't have to! i'll be ok promise

4.02 a.m: hah good one.. gimme ten mins

Ellie was not messing, not much time passed before she was knocking on the front door of your dorm. 

"Hey," Her voice was soft, gentle, her eyes shining with such a tender glint. She's always had such pretty eyes, you thought. 

"Hi,"

You moved a few steps to give her space to enter,

"How you doing?" She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tighter than you expected,

"Honestly, I'm okay," Ellie took a look at you, gauging your overall mood and believed it, you already looked lighter, less weight (*Dean) holding down your shoulders. 

"Think I mentally checked out a long time ago," you added, sitting down on your bed and lifting your laptop screen to load a show, acting somewhat as a buffer amongst the silence.

"So what happened?"

You couldn't help the audible groan that escaped your lips, "He got pissy when he saw me leaving the bathroom with Abby and accused me of cheating,"

"Abby?" Ellie had taken off her coat and shoes, joining you on your spot on the bed.

"Yeah, she was smoking in the bathroom hiding from their coach, we walked down to the group together, it was only small talk. I was so confused, he started saying things about who I was hanging out with,".

"Meaning?"

"He's a fucking homophobic prick,"

"He said hanging out with 'all those lesbians was fucking with my head', said I follow whoever gives me attention," you sighed, "then I slapped him."

Ellie couldn’t help it, she felt a swell of pride that you slapped him, stood up for yourself. He deserved so much worse, she thought.

Ellie couldn't hide the smirk that reached her lips, as much as she tried to suppress it, it still came.

"That's my girl,"

You didn't expect your stomach to twist when those words left her mouth, opening something up deep inside.

"He finally admitted to cheating, and then it was over," You sighed.

"I'm proud of you," Ellie muttered, fidgeting with her nail-beds, failing to meet your eyes.

"You don't have to say that, I know how pathetic this is,"

Resting your head on the headboard, you brought your legs into a cross,

"Hey, I mean it, it must've been a lot," She paused, her hand coming to rest on your knee, rubbing her thumb over the skin absentmindedly, like it was second nature to her. Perhaps, it was.

You looked over at her, eyes trailing down her features, freckles and the green eyes that still weren't meeting yours, suddenly shy.

"You're amazing, you deserve to know that," she paused, eyes finally meeting your own, determined.

"So are you," Your voice lowered, trailing back to the pretty brunette from earlier.

“So what’s going on with you and that girl?” You shouldn’t have said anything, but it was out before you could stop it. Clearly, your brain kept thinking about it.

“It’s..” Ellie thought about what to say, it would sound extremely horrible to say Cat was mainly a distraction, unfair as she is a lovely person, but it’s true.

“Nothing more than what you saw,”

Vague, was that best response to that, Ellie thought.

“I saw quite a bit,”

“Honestly, she’s great, we get along and all but..’ She’s not you. “I don’t think it’ll go any further.”

“She seemed to really like you, why not?”

Ellie almost wanted to laugh, it was so painfully obvious to her, how could you not see it?

“I guess.. I want something different.”

Her eyes connected with yours, the contact between your eyes felt different now, charged. You caught yourself stealing a glance at her lips, which slightly parted as she spotted where your eyes had fallen.

“Like what?”

She had no response, it was either avoid the question, or firm it. Ellie didn’t know which was the right answer.

"Ellie.." You paused, words caught in your throat, as scenarios rushed through your head like a rolodex of different possible outcomes. Heart tugging at your brain to do something, anything.

"Yeah?" Her head leaned closer to yours, your breathing slowly becoming heavier, the room's environment growing thicker, harder to inhale. Her hand still on your knee, unmoving now, frozen in place.

You could almost make contact with her lips, if you moved just a tiny inch closer. Her hand trailed slightly further up your leg, just a little above your knee, almost as if to test the waters. You wondered if she felt like you did, if she could also feel her veins light up and her body inflamed. Were her lips just as eager to touch yours? Were her hands longing to feel you just as well?

Before you realised, it was out.

"Ellie, can I kiss you?"

A beat, and no response. You felt your heart start to panic, already thinking over how to pretend that had never happened. You almost regretted it, until her hand reached for the back of your neck, reducing the distance between your faces.

Lips meeting yours, shyly at first, hesitant. Ellie’s mind was whirling, feeling her heartbeat pump aggressively throughout her body, there was no way this was reality, she thought. No way that you were here in front of her, asking to kiss her, after all this time of her yearning, feeling like a useless lesbian who would never ever make a move on you.

She could almost feel herself kicking her feet in the air, as she decided to firm it. Scared if she waited any longer, the opportunity would cease to exist, pass her by and join one of those regrets she’d think about as an elder.

Your lips met hers back, eager to push for contact, eager to push closer. Your zeal spurring hers on, as her hands clasped the back of your neck, keeping you in place. Not like you wanted to be anywhere else.

This was it. This is what you should’ve been feeling in the past.

Ellie’s soft, plump lips melted over yours, taunting with a bite and pulling your bottom lip out before entering her tongue into your mouth.

Fuck. That was hot.

You felt yourself getting hotter, damper by the minute as the kiss continues, Ellie’s hand getting more comfortable and trailing down to your thighs.

You pulled apart for a second, taking the time to catch your breath as you looked into her eyes, usually green but now much darker, enhanced by enlarged pupils as she glazed her sights over you. An unreadable expression on her face,

“Are you okay?”

“You’re so hot, and amazing and I-I really want to keep going, I just- I don’t know, I don’t want this to be like a .. rebound thing. I really care about you but I just, don’t want to feel like that, you know?” She rambled on, her thoughts getting ahead of themselves as she was pondering if it happened, then if it was too late to return to what you had been, before things got all naked and messy.

You understood, of course you did. You had literally broken up with him just maybe two hours ago. But it didn’t matter, you had to say it. Let her know and reassure her that it was only her.

“Ellie.. you could never be a rebound to me,” You stammered a little before the next part, “You’re the one I’ve wanted this whole time. It’s always been you.” You pecked her lips, grabbing her face, looking into her eyes hoping she’d see the seriousness in yours.

“I’ve wanted you for a really long time,” she broke contact, “I just didn’t wanna fuck shit up,”

“I mean it, Ellie, I’ve never felt as certain about something as I do this,”

Her stature relaxed, you continued, “I love you, Ellie. I didn’t love anyone else,”

“I love you,” she answered, the corner of her lip tilting up, eyes brighter.

“I’ll just have to show you how much, if that’s okay with you.”

Her gaze turned curious, before nodding, watching as your hands danced down her sides and ever so slightly underneath the fabric of her shirt.

“You can do whatever you want with me, honestly,” she murmured. You caught her body tensing, almost shaky as you lifted her shirt. Warm hands covering the sides of her defined stomach, you squeezed a little, just enough to rile her up.

Which it did, Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as she anticipated your next move. Losing control of her lungs, she was about to explode.

“This okay?” Your hand met the band of her sports bra, digging scarcely into her skin beneath it.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, stuck in place, watching, her cheeks becoming flushed, “Shit,”

You hands pressed over her breasts, tightening pressure around as she let out a content sigh. You dipped your head down to wrap your lips around her nipple, licking laps over the tip and softly blowing air over them when you decided you were done, chuckling to yourself at the goosebumps that now raised on her skin,

“Don’t tease,” She murmured, composure dwindling.

“Sorry, can’t help myself,”

You kissed down her stomach to her pelvis, feeling her restlessness grow as her body refused to stay still, itching for you to do more.

You leaned back up, placing either leg over her torso and looked her over, making sure she was okay as your hand moved lower down, seemingly in a mind of its own as it crept past the waistband, meeting her skin as you held eye contact.

Ellie folded, shutting her eyes as the waiting became too much, you tapped her leg with your free hand,

“Eyes on me,”

When she held your eye contact once again, you teased a finger past her folds, almost letting out a groan at how wet she was, at how easily you could feel her arousal.

“Fuck Els,” you sighed, struggling to contain yourself as your thoughts grew more indecent, slipping a finger in further as Ellie writhed underneath you, head hanging back.

“More fingers, please,” Her voice was strained, breathy as she closed her eyes, embarrassed to be feeling this undone already.

“Yeah?” The side of your mouth curled up, goaded by the sound of her voice. She nodded impishly, covering her eyes with her wrist, as her other hand reached to grip around your hip. A tight squeeze followed on your skin.

“I can do that, baby,” Following instructions, you slipped two more fingers into her, falling into a rhythm as you felt her clench around you. She glanced over your body, legs spread over her midsection as you leaned your arm back, hips gently grinding over hers- an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building up.

Her hand grabbed at the hem of your shirt, pulling it slightly and groaning when the tight material pushed against your breasts, she always loved how you never wore bras, stiff nipples poking through the fabric.

“Fuck, clothes off, now,” she let out in soft grunts, as she broke your wrist from her to take off your shirt, rubbing her hands over your newly exposed skin “Always fucking wanted to see you like this,” She spoke, your fingers meeting her centre again, “So fucking pretty,”

“You feel so good, Ellie,” You gasped, your hips involuntarily grinding on top of her stomach, “So fucking good ‘n wet for me,”

“Fuck-“ Ellie’s voice cut off as she bit into the back of her hand, her own hips rolling your hand in deeper, hitting her walls more than before as she let out a mewl. “Feels so fuckin’ good, angel,” she whimpered, voice strained as she continued to ride into your hand.

It was the hottest noise you’d ever heard, and you wanted to keep drawing it out of her. To keep hearing her moan for you, and your actions only.

Suddenly, you had something you prove, both to her and to yourself. Flashes of Cat in your mind as you wanted her to forget other women existed.

You unwrapped yourself off her lap, removing your fingers, kissing her stomach as you pulled her pants and underwear down, grabbing her legs and holding them open, exposing her even further.

“Damn,” you said, glancing over her wet inner thighs as they glistened, all for you.

“Shut up,” she spoke, voice tight as a side smile swept over her features, as she grabbed the back of your head, pushing you closer to her pulsing core, throbbing and dripping waiting for you to make contact.

You licked a line up her heat, moaning to yourself at the taste of her. You grew light-headed, thinking you could die happily just between Ellie’s legs, becoming addicted to her moans as you ate her out, head in a daze as she squeezed her thighs tight around your head, almost cutting off your air supply- her moans growing more frequent, as she reached closer. Your free hand moving up to wrap itself around her breast, squeezing tighter around her nipple.

Deciding to have a little more fun, you slipped two fingers into her wetness as you continued to lap your tongue around her clit, pushing up into her as you sucked. Dragging her delicious sap on your tongue as it marred all over your face, cheeks glassy with her warm sleek.

Ellie had lost control over her vocal cords at this point, moans slipping out from between her sweet lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress them. Hell, you were moaning too, despite not even being touched yet, dripping all over yourself, ass up and needy as you rolled your hips over thin air as you continued to soak yourself into Ellie.

There could be no coming back from this, you thought, not now that you had been exposed to the delicacy that is Ellie Williams. You were holding on to her and not letting go.

You felt Ellie’s moans get shorter, cutting themselves off from its full power before the next one came, her hips moving more haphazardly up to meet your tongue, she was close.

You glanced at her, her eyes closed, brows pinched up and mouth agape, a slight sheen to her skin from sweat, she’s so attractive, you thought.

With your free hand, your fingers guided themselves onto your own folds, rolling over your own clit for some release, the lack of hand on her caused Ellie’s eyes to lull over at you, the sight of your arched back, wet cheeks from her slick, spread legs as you touched yourself all whilst still fucking her into oblivion.

The damned sight of you, just as undone as Ellie, without her even touching you, was enough to cause the coil in her abdomen to twist, before she came all over your face, breath slowing into heavy pants as her body twitched. You lapped her up her residue, finally removing your face from between her legs as she looked at you. Wordless.

“Wh-what the fuck..” Ellie’s weak voice trailed, before laughing and forcing a kiss on your lips, hands wrapped around your jaw as she tasted the remnants of herself on you.

There was no way you were about to give her the best orgasm of her life and expect her to not do anything back? Funny joke. Ellie was ravenous now.

She placed you underneath her, biting around your thighs before bending her head down, her tongue having been desperate for a taste since that first day she saw you. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” Your legs tightened around her as the air from her voice hit your centre, “Been dyin’ for a taste,” You looked at her, tip of your eyebrows raised up as you took in her words, how long had she wanted you back? Her words caused you to shudder, whimpering as she continued.

“Fuck,” You said, voice breaking as her tongue rippled over your pussy as your hips shook, slurping up the honey that had been left neglected. Long, slender fingers meeting your centre that had felt so, so desperate and needy for her to touch.

“G’na show what you’ve been missing,” She hummed, as her fingers picked up pace working harmoniously with her tongue as she fucked into you. Warm muscle rolling over your pulsing clit. Fingers rubbing over your velvet walls which sucked her further in, skin dragging out with her soaked fingers when they recoiled out, the image obscene. “What was waiting for you this whole time,”

“Els- shit, wanna feel you,”

“What you want, baby?” She gasped out, in between breaths as fingers toyed with your clit.

“Wanna feel you, y-your fucking pussy on mine-fuck,” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. The desire was simply too strong, you were dizzy just from the thought of it. Ellie seemed to share your enthusiasm, her heart skipping a beat, the thought kindling her veins with heat.

This was truly a gift from the heavens, she thought.

“Shit- yeah, okay.” Ellie exhaled out, as she got you into position, grabbing one of your smaller pillows to cushion underneath you as she placed her legs over yours, getting into place as she rubbed her clit over yours, hips lolling over your pelvis.

The sounds were debaucherous as they filled the room, hot and wet, as if the spirit of Dionysus, himself had possessed you. Invoking you with bacchanal, carnal desire as you could think of nothing else than the sublime vice that is Ellie Williams.

“Fuck, Els, I’m gonna come,”

Ellie groaned, rocking her hips over yours, her defined abs on show, breasts working with Earth’s gravity as they sprung up and down to match her movements, hair falling out of her half-bun, causing some strands to stick to her face, completely dishevelled. You looked at her, eyes attached to yours, lust ruling over them, then looked back down to where you were both intertwined. You trapped your bottom lip with your teeth at the sight before you.

Her sap mingling with yours, leaking out from her cunt as it folds over your own, Wrapping you with her warmth, pulsating around yours. Ellie’s body still trembling from before.

“Then come for me, baby,”

You were gone. With her words, you felt yourself spilling out against her, not being able to hold back the climax of your arousal spurting out from you, splashes reaching Ellie’s legs.

“Fuck, Ellie!” Your voice drawled out, as the wave ran through you,

“That’s it, angel, come all over me,” She smirked down at you, breath heavy as she watched your eyes glaze over, lips parted and chest heavy as you finally came down. A ardent glaze over her eyes.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” She gaped, eyes transfixed on your figure as her reeling mind came down from the high.

“Shit, neither did I,” you laughed, covering your mouth, suddenly shy. With your head still in the clouds, you weren’t feeling as overly self-aware.

“That was fucking hot, and I’m not done.”

—

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[skbeaumont]

Just a Graze | Joel x Reader oneshot

One-shot Joel/Reader. Previously posted in two parts but thought I'd make a masterpost for this one.

Summary: Joel comes back injured, and while you patch him up the tension that's been building for several months threatens to break.

Tags/warnings: dirty talk, explicit content, language, injury detail (not explicit), MDNI, sexual tension, PIV, oral (F receiving), FILTH

Word Count: 4.3k

Joel’s bleeding when he gets back. The screen door clatters shut behind him, wire shuddering against the wood, and you look up from the table. His face is set, a solid frown painted across his features – nothing unusual – but there’s a downward turn to his mouth that you recognise as a pained expression. He steps in and leans against the counter, one hand on the warped wood, the other pressed against his shoulder. Blood seeps through his fingers, clotting around his knuckles, staining his jacket red.

“I’m okay,” he says as you spring up from your place at the dusty kitchen table, “it’s just a graze.”

“Bullet?” You ask, ignoring his attempts to wave off your concern.

“Barbed wire,” he says, letting you lead him further into the cabin, toward the misshapen couch, “stupid mistake, I didn’t see it.”

The shotgun clatters onto the floor at his feet as he collapses onto the couch with a groan. He doesn’t protest as you pull his fist away from the wound, your hand warm against his wind-chilled fingers. The cut isn’t deep, but the wire has torn through his jacket and shirt down to the flesh of his shoulder, leaving a jagged cut that’s oozing blood.

“You must be getting old,” you say, standing to search through your pack for the first aid kit, “your eyes are going as well as your ears.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with my eyes. Or my ears.”

“Sorry?”

“I said, there-” he notices your grin, the glint of mischief in your eye. He sighs heavily. “You’re a damn pain in my ass.”

You huff out a laugh and pull a kitchen chair across to sit opposite him. You open the first aid kit – which is really no more than a small washbag stuffed with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of bandages – on your lap, pull out the disinfectant and start unscrewing the cap. “Can you take your jacket off?” You ask, and he nods, starts unzipping it and pulling it off of his uninjured arm. He winces a little as he peels it past his bad shoulder, shakes it down his arm and lays it over his lap, frowning at the gash in the fabric.

“I can patch that up when we get back to Jackson.” You say.

“Ain’t going back ‘til we’ve something to bring back.” He replies, and now it’s your turn to sigh.

“We’ve got two deer and a whole family of rabbits, Joel. There’s nothing else out here for us to get.”

“We both saw that clinic complex, and I ain’t arguing with you about this again. Winter’s well on its way, and we need as much medicine as we can get to make it through. I almost got in today – would have, if I hadn’t got caught on that damned barbed wire. We’ll both go back tomorrow.”

He fixes you with a hard stare, one that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, though whether it’s through fear or something else, you’re not sure. You’ve been partnering up for a couple of months now, going out on hunts and supply runs, growing slowly closer over long hikes and cold nights camping out under the stars.

At first, he intimidated you. He was cold, harsh; a solid bulk of a man who never smiled and rarely spoke, except to tell you to keep your voice down or stop walking so loudly. But then, gradually, he’d started loosening up around you. A few weeks ago he’d cracked a smile at a joke you’d made – something stupid about a bird in a tree, the kind of joke your dad used to make when you were a kid – and then that smile had grown into a deep chuckle a couple of days later, and then a conversation, whispered and illusive, under a starry sky last week.

This latest trip outside Jackson had been the most enjoyable yet, conversation flowing easily between you, and you were starting to suspect that the strange swooping feeling in your stomach that arose each time he looked at you, or bumped against you as you walked had a lot less to do with how intimidating he could be, and a lot more to do with him.

Now, locking eyes with him over the opened bottle of Lysol, his eyes dark and with an argument boiling up between you, that feeling blossoms into something hot and delicious, stirring a fire in your belly that makes you bold.

“From where I’m sat,” you say, tipping the bottle of Lysol so that the disinfection pours out onto a clean swab, “you don’t seem to have much choice about what we’re doing next. You’re hurt, and I need to patch you up, so stop arguing and take your shirt off.”

He opens his mouth to argue but shuts it again, eyes flicking up to your face. A hint of red creeps up his neck, settling high on his cheeks, tinging them scarlet in the low light of the cabin. You keep glaring at him. He lets out a long breath through his nose and moves to unbutton his shirt. The shirt is old, vintage, even – probably older than you – with mismatched buttons and a crumpled, frayed look. It comes apart easily, Joel’s fingers working down the buttons nimbly until he reaches the bottom. He pauses there, looks up at your face. You look away, because heat is creeping up your own neck now, hot and unbridled, as he pushes the shirt off of his shoulders and lets it fall open onto the couch behind him.

After his dark eyes, the most notable thing about Joel is his stature. He’s tall, and broad enough to fill any room he’s in. You’ve seen him lift grown men like they weigh nothing, watched him pick up a dead deer and throw it over one shoulder without so much as a stumble. Last month you went out on horseback to scope a potential hunting ground, and, sitting behind him in the saddle, you couldn’t see anything past the triangular bulk of his shoulders, your hands clasped easily around his waist. So, yeah, you know he’s strong, could tell anyone that the man is built. But when you look at him in the half-light with his shirt off, uncovered by layers of leather or plaid, the sight still sends blood rushing to your face.

His shoulders are broad, curving into thick biceps that tense as he raises a hand to scratch, self-consciously, at the back of his neck. There are small scars littering his chest, running down in narrow white slices to his belly, which is softer than the rest of him, sloping and scattered with coarse hair that continues below the buckle of his belt. You want to press your face into it, kiss the contours of his bellybutton and the plains of his chest, up to the juncture of his throat, which bobs as he swallows, eyes shifting to catch yours.

“You gonna patch me up or just stare?” He asks, and there’s something teasing in his voice, something that causes heat and slick to pool in between your thighs. “I- you’ve got a lot of scars.” You say, stupidly, tipping more Lysol onto the cloth you’re holding.

“Had a lot of run-ins with barbed wire.” He replies, the words turning to a hiss when you press the wet cloth to the cut on his shoulder.

“Should be more careful.”

“Now where would the fun be in that, darlin’?”

Oh, that’s new. You’ve heard him call Ellie pet names before, laughed when she rolls her eyes and shirks away from his affections, all fifteen years old and too cool to be coddled. But he’s never called you anything but your name – never so much as shortened it to a nickname like almost everyone else does. You flick your gaze from his wound to his face. His eyes are dark, expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze makes you look away, cheeks reddening. You pull the cloth away from his arm and start wrapping a clean bandage around his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he says, after a pause. “I forget, sometimes. Recently.”

“Forget what?”

“That you’re young enough to be my-” He cuts himself off here, “that you’re a hell of a lot younger’n I am.”

This makes you laugh out loud, a huff of breath exhaled. You’re still opposite each other, him on the sofa, knees spread wide, you in the kitchen chair. If you inched forward only slightly your own legs would be between his.

“Old days I’d have been old enough to drink and drive, and more than old enough to flirt, Joel.”

“That what you want? You want me to flirt with you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper.

You shrug and hold his gaze. “I think it’s what you want too. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you.”

You have. He thinks he’s being discrete, but you’ve seen how his eyes linger on your legs, how he can’t help but drop his gaze to your chest when you wear something low cut. A few weeks ago you’d seen him adjust himself in his jeans when you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in a stream you’d come across after two days out searching for supplies.

“And how’s that?” He asks. You have to hold yourself back from leaning forward and kissing the worried crease of his mouth.

“Like you’re a man dying of thirst and I’m an oasis.”

He scoffs at that. “Shoulda been a writer, sweetheart.”

“And how does this story end?”

“Ends with you walking away from me like you should’ve months ago. This,” he flicks a finger at himself and then you, “ain’t happening.”

“Why not? You want it, I want it. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Problem is,” he slides his arms off the sofa, reaching back to pull his shirt back up over his shoulders, “you think you know what you want, but you don’t.” He starts buttoning the shirt, fixing you with a stern look. “Trust me.”

He tries to stand but you put your hands on his knees, holding him in place.

“No way,” You say, your heart thumping in your chest, “you don’t get to decide what I do or don’t want.”

“What do you want? You want me to fuck you? Want me to spread your pretty little legs out across this couch and make you come on my tongue?”

Yes. God, yes.

“What if I do? What if that’s exactly what I want you to do?” You slide your hands further up his legs, holding him down on the couch. If he wanted to, he could push you off easily, but he doesn’t. When your fingertips reach the tops of his thighs he slides his hands over your wrists and pins them where they are, stopping you moving any higher.

“Find someone your own age, sweetheart. Someone whose knees don’t creak when the stand up. Someone who can make you happy.” And then he’s standing up, moving your hands off of him with ease, stepping around you in the kitchen chair to stride to the other side of the room, the tension collapsing in on itself as he tells you to get some sleep, that there’s more work to do tomorrow.

*****

The next morning brings rain. It hammers against the walls of the cabin and drips in through the leaky roof. Joel stands at the window, one hand on his hip, silently looking out at the downpour.

“Tell me you’re not considering going out in this?” You say, moving up behind him to peer out at the lashing rain.

“Might ease up later.” He says, turning to face you. “There’s enough to do in here to keep us occupied, anyway.”

“Guns?” You ask.

“Guns.” He agrees.

Joel’s fanatical about keeping the guns clean and working. It makes sense, you suppose. You don’t know much about his past, about how he and Ellie ended up in Jackson, but what you’ve heard, the snippets Ellie’s confided in you over quiet conversations, makes for grim listening. To Joel, those guns mean the difference between life and death.

And so you both sit at the kitchen table, meticulously cleaning Joel’s shotgun and your pistol, passing cloths and gun oil between you. You make casual conversation as you go, neither of you touching on the events of the previous evening. After he dismissed you last night you’d gone straight to bed, tucked yourself into the dusty single bed in the bedroom while Joel took the couch. Your dreams had been hazy and pleasant, and you’d woken up flushed.

You’re sliding the magazine back into your pistol when Joel jumps and swears, pulling his hand back from where he’s trapped his finger in the loading mechanism of the shotgun. A tiny bead of blood wells up and spills over his fingertip and he sighs heavily. You reach out and take his hand in yours to examine the cut. It's tiny - you've seen paper-cuts do more damage - but Joel's frowning like he's in pain.

“You’ve gotta stop being so clumsy.” You say.

“I’m not clumsy.” He replies, letting you turn his hand in yours, watching you watch his thick fingers, take in the breadth of his knuckles.

“No?”

“No. It’s-”

You're not sure what makes you do it - maybe it's frustration still boiling over from yesterday, maybe it's the way Joel looks at you as you clasp his large hand in your own smaller one -  but before he can finish speaking you pull his arm across the table and wrap your lips around his finger. You snake your tongue over the pad of the digit and the noise he makes then - a breathy, broken groan - sends fire surging through you, heat coiling between your thighs.

“Distraction.” He finishes.

When you pull your mouth away and place a wet kiss to the palm of his hand, he slides his fingers across your jaw and up into the mess of your hair. His hand is hot against your scalp, curving around the back of your neck, leading you forward so that he can fit his mouth against yours across the table.

Pleasure flutters out from the pull of his fingers in your hair, and his lips are soft and dry until he opens his mouth to you, guiding your tongue into his mouth, pressing his into yours. It’s slow at first. Tentative, as though he’s waiting for you to push him away. But you’ve never wanted anything more, and when you moan against his lips he stands, bracketing your face with both hands to pull you up from your own chair.

It’s a messy walk backwards from the table. You bump against the broken coffee table, pull away from his mouth to curse and rub your shin, but then he’s falling back onto the couch, pulling you down into his lap so that your thighs are bracketing his legs.

You pause like that, looking at each other, both breathless and dazed, lips bruised.

“This what you want?” He asks again, placing his hand at your jaw gently. His fingers are thick, hand so large that his thumb rests at your temple and while his index finger sits under your chin.

“I want you, Joel. Please.”

When he kisses you again, it’s hungry and animalistic. All pretence of hesitation is gone. He presses his mouth to your throat, lets his teeth scrape the delicate skin below your ear.

“This is still a bad idea.” He says, voice breaking when you roll your hips against his. ”Shit.”

“Please, Joel.” Your voice sounds tiny, shrill to your own ears, desperate and pathetic, but Joel bites at the juncture of your neck and it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the feel of his hands on your hips, guiding you against him, pulling your clothed cunt against where he’s impossibly hard in his jeans.

“I’m gonna take this off.” He says, pulling at your shirt, tugging it up over your head. “And this.” He runs a hand over your covered tit, pinches your nipple beneath the thin fabric of your bra, rolls it between his finger and thumb while his other hand slides up your back and unclasps it. It falls between you, forgotten immediately.

“Fuck, darlin’, look at you.” He says, running the knuckle of his index finger over the swell of your chest, down along your ribs and across one hip. He lets his hand fall away, brings it back up to the side of your face, pulls your lips back to his and drags your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth.

Pain and pleasure blossom through you, make you scrabble at the buttons of his shirt, fingers shaking as you try and get them undone. He helps, slides the shirt off of his back, careful where his shoulder is still sore. He balls it up and casts it across the room, then grips your hips and lifts you, turning you onto your back on the sofa, pressing himself between your open thighs. The change in angle presses the seam of your jeans against your clit, a jolt of pleasure rocking through you.

“You ever done this before?” He asks, hovering over you, dipping down to press a chaste kiss against your collarbone.

“I ain’t that innocent, Joel.” You reply, gasping when he pulls your nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth. “Have you?”

This earns you a deep chuckle, a hushed whisper against the back of your neck, “I’ve been doing this since before you were born, baby.”

And, fuck, that shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does. It has your hips lifting up, seeking out friction. Joel notices and slides down your body, dropping onto his knees on the floor. He runs one hand up the inside of your thigh, presses his thumb expertly against your covered clit.

“I’m gonna take these off now, and then you’re gonna come on my tongue. That sound okay?”

You nod, voice lost as he undoes the button on your jeans and pulls them down in one motion, pushing them away in the direction of his discarded shirt.

“Look how wet you are for me already.” He glides two fingers over the front of your soaked underwear, up to the waistband to hook them off.

And then he leans forward, presses light kisses up your thighs until he reaches your cunt. He pauses, blows a cool strip of air against you that has you trying to close your legs, but his hands are there, pinning them open for him. When he seals his lips over your clit and drags his tongue over it you thread your fingers through his hair, pull at the black-grey strands. You squeeze your eyes shut but he pulls away, chastises you gently.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His voice is like molten chocolate, rich and dark, pulling you back so that you gaze down at him.

He swipes his tongue over your slit, gathers the slick that’s pooling there. He’s like a man possessed, eyes dark, hair standing up on end from where you’ve run your hands through it, cursing and moaning as he slides his tongue over your clit, starting up a firm and consistent rhythm that has you bucking against him. His hands are gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his forearms corded with muscle, biceps flexing up to those impossibly broad shoulders.

“You gonna come on my tongue?” He asks, hardly breaking away from you to grunt out the question.

“Yes, Joel, fuck, please.” You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, can hardly force yourself to keep your eyes on him where he kneels between your thighs like you’re an altar and he’s a lonely priest begging for repentance. It’s this thought – the idea of him worshipping you, tongue lapping over your clit, his eyes blazing with lust – that tips you over the edge. Your cunt clenches around nothing, body wracked with pleasure as you come, hard, on his tongue. He grins into your cunt as he feels you come apart against him, continues pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your pussy as you come down from the high, limbs shaking. When you finally push him away, overly sensitive and buzzing with pleasure, he rocks back on his heels, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Your pleasure is painted across his face, his greying stubble wet with your slick.

He crawls back up onto the couch between your thighs, dips his head to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lip; on his tongue when he sweeps it against the back of your teeth, heady and sweet. He presses himself against you, drags the front of his jeans over your bare skin. The buckle of his belt catches against your bare stomach and you hiss into his mouth, reach down to unbuckle it. It comes off easily, falls to the floor with a dull thud, and then you slip your fingers through the buttons of his jeans, undo them quickly, desperate to get them off. He stands briefly, pushes them the rest of the way down his thick thighs and then kneels back between your legs. Immediately you slide your hand into the waistband of his briefs. He feels like velvet wrapped around steel, hot and delicious in your fist. He groans into your mouth as you palm him desperately, sliding delicate skin over the head of him, feathering the pad of your thumb against his slit. When you draw his cock out you break away from his needy mouth to look. He’s big: thick, curving slightly to the left, head already weeping precum.

“Fist feels so good wrapped around my cock, sweetheart.” He tells you, “You gonna let me fuck you?”

It’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given. He chuckles darkly at your needy reply, pushes his briefs the rest of the way off and wraps his own fist around his cock. He slides himself over your cunt, coating himself in your juices. Then he’s notching the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, sucking in a breath as he pushes in gently, slowly, stretching you out deliciously.

“Good girl,” He murmurs, easing himself deeper, feeling you flex and clench around him, “good fucking girl.”

He stills when he’s fully seated inside you, sucks at a spot under your jaw that makes you gasp with pleasure, runs one big palm up your body to paw at your breast, trying to collect himself, twitching inside you with the effort of staying still.

“Cunt’s so goddamn tight, baby.” His voice is broken, pitchy and breathy against your ear.

You run your hands over his back, feeling out the breadth of his shoulders, the thin scars that lace across them, his muscles bunching and flexing beneath your fingers when he finally – finally – starts to move inside you, rocking his hips into yours, dragging himself all the way out and then gliding back in. The head of his cock hits something inside you that sends white hot pleasure jolting through your belly. The cabin is silent now – the rain has stopped – the only sounds are your frantic breathing and low, breathy moans, and Joel’s whispered praises as he rocks against you.

Good girl, so fucking good for me, letting me fuck you like this, cunt so tight around me, could come just thinking about it.

It’s dirty and sloppy and fucking incredible. The power you’ve seen him exert on infected and drunkards and raiders suddenly coiled over you, his muscles pulling you taunt against him when he changes the angle, sits up, pulls you with him so that you’re riding him, his cock somehow buried deeper in your cunt, your thighs bracketing him. You can feel yourself growing closer to release again, pleasure notching up in your belly like fire spreading. Joel shifts slightly again, makes space for his hand to come between you, places his thumb against your clit and presses, draws out slow, gentle circles that match the pace of his thrusts.

“Need my thumb on you clit while my cock’s buried inside you, sweetheart? Gonna come again just like this, huh? Dirty fucking girl.”

His words are like fuel on the fire and within seconds you’re moaning and shaking, cunt clenching around him as you come, harder than before, on his cock. Joel fucks you through it, keeps the steady pressure on your clit.

“Gonna make me come in this tight little pussy,” He says, and you know you shouldn’t, know you should make him pull out, but he feels so good inside you that you grind down on him telling him yes, please, fist your hands into his hair to pull his mouth against yours. The kiss is desperate and messy, all teeth and tongue. He hisses into your mouth as you buck your hips and drive them down on him, and then he’s swearing, fingers digging hard into your hips.

"Jesus, you feel so fucking good, baby, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna- shit.” He pulses inside you, painting your cunt with his come, hot and wet inside you.

You continue rocking against each other, slowly, coming down from the high. When he slides out of you and shifts away the old sofa groans out in protest, springs creaking. It makes you laugh, breathless, racking laughter than drives away the sudden realisation of what you’ve just done, of how you’ve indelibly changed the way you look at each other, the relationship between you.

“That was… fucking hell, Joel, that was incredible.”

He’s looking at you sideways, his hair still a mess, stubble still coated with your slick. He’s naked and vulnerable and you think it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. When he leans across to slot his lips against yours you grin against him, trying not to think about what happens next.

[greynatomy]

rivals?

alexia putellas x messi!reader

request here

with all the alexia angst being posted (my fault), here’s some fluff

———

In the world of professional football, rivalry between two players are always one that many fans are eager to watch.

In the men’s world of football, there was Messi and Ronaldo.

In the women’s, Messi and Putellas. Two of the most sought after female footballers of this time.

You and Alexia were known as fierce rivals on the field when competing for your country. You for Argentina, Alexia for Spain. Both of your competitiveness fueling debates among fans. Little did everyone know, behind the scenes, you both shared a secret that could rival the on-field intensity.

Away from the spotlight, you and Alexia were much more than rivals and teammates — you were married.

Your love story began when you’d transferred from playing in the Women’s Super League to Barça. From the first time she’d laid her eyes on you, there was an instant connection. At first she didn’t know how to feel about your transfer, only having played against you for the national team, where the rivalry grew and grew, but as you both played for Barça, the understanding and pressure you both experience helped you grow closer.

Late-night rendezvous, secret getaways, and coded messages allowed you to maintain your privacy. It was difficult to keep everything a secret, something you’ve both agreed on. Time moved quickly from the first time she’d seen you in a Barça kit to now, six years later.

You’re both cuddled up on the couch, watching a replay of the match you’ve just played, pointing out the things you and the team could have done better, when you heard some whining on the baby monitor searched up on the coffee table.

With a kiss to your head, Alexia got up to see what the fuss was all about. You watched on through the monitor, seeing how your wife delicately held and talked to your two year old, making you fall in love with her all over again.

“See look there’s Mami.” Alexia points you out, walking in with Rosa in her arms.

“Mami.” Rosa mumbles, arms reaching out for you, cuddling into your body once in your hold.

“How was your nap, bebé?”

All you got was a whine. Alexia cuddles back into your side as Rosa falls back into a slumber.

“I’ve been thinking.” Alexia starts.

“Uh oh. Mamá has been thinking.” You tease, earning you a playful shove.

“Seriously. Rosa turned two a bit ago and I want to be able to show her what her Mami and Mamá do or work. The environment which all the fans.”

Alexia starts to ramble. Saving her from spiraling, you place a hand over her mouth stopping her words.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

With a bright smile on her face, Alexia pulls you in a passionate kiss, careful to not wake your daughter up.

Three weeks later, Spain has a friendly match against Argentina. Everyone played hard no matter that it was only a friendly, the match ending in a draw.

As far as the public knew, you and Alexia were still rivals, enemies, or any other term they use, so whenever they see you conversing after matches, fans and media freak out, like right now.

What the fans didn’t expect was a small child running into your arms with laughter. Standing up with Rosa in your arms, Alexia wraps her arms around both of you, kisses being placed on her cheeks by both of her moms.

To say the fans and media were exploding was an understatement.

“Alexia, they need you for media.”

Alexia settles herself at the table in front of all the press, waiting for the questions to come.

“Hola, Alexia. Great game today.”

“Thank you.”

After a couple of questions about the match, a little kid is seen throwing themselves onto Alexia.

“Mamá!”

A second person is seen chasing after the child.

“Sorry, sorry. She’s gotten fast.”

You run in, trying to grab Rosa from your wife, who is wriggling to make her harder to hold.

“You can leave her here.”

“You sure?”

She nods so you give them both a kiss on the head and walk out the room.

“Sorry about that.”

“Who do we have here? If you don’t mind us asking.”

“Bebé can you tell them your name?”

“Soy Rosa Putellas.”

The room let out a collective ‘aww’.

“So-so she’s your daughter?” A reporter stutters, stunned by the little girl.

“Yes.”

“And Messi’s?”

“Yes.”

The room full reporters burst, questions being asked over the others. Alexia just stands up, walking out of the room.

“I think you broke them.” Is the first thing you say when she walks into the locker room.

“Eh.” She shrugs. “Makes it fun.”

[slutforln4]

TWO PRIZES

🖇️ lando norris x f1 journalist!reader

🖇️ in which you realise lando wasn’t just the driver you interviewed

🖇️ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

🖇️ author’s note: the bits in italic are her memories :)

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Monaco GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy.“This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a card with his number on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “Victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It’s you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 0.5 // pt 01 & 02

(pre-pt 1 & 2)

there is something that riley (41) does that kind of—or really, if you're being honest, which you aren't—makes you breathless. you wonder if it's a deliberate habit, or if it's something he does unconsciously. whatever it may be, it drives you fucking nuts.

when he's on ice, mid-game, riley chooses to chew on his mouth guard instead of wearing it.

thing is, he's not the only one who actually does this—countless lead players are photographed as they chew on their mouthpieces, their eyes faraway because they are in the zone—and you've always noticed them, of course you have, but there is something fundamentally different when riley does it.

it's pleasing when it's him who does it. attractive.

the others barely make you blink, but riley? god, you can't even show your camera roll to your friends anymore because of that one day when you mass-saved every single photo of him biting on his mouth guard that you could scour.

you probably downloaded about forty-one (ha!) images of those types.

it's embarrassing to admit out loud, but dear god he is so charming like that—in full hockey gear, his damp hair framing his flushed face, and his grin made cheekier by the fact that he's biting down on his mouth guard.

one was even your homescreen for a while.

fuck him for being gorgeous.

---

(post-pt 02)

simon skates towards you at the sound of the buzzer—the first period is over, and now it was time for the intermission. the rink is being cleared out for the re-icing, but here he is being a bastard, loitering and everything. even his coach seemed to have given up at shouting his name already, and after a quick glance at him, you know simon’s going to be reprimanded for this.

but the thought and the fond exasperation is squashed into hot smithereens, with your heart lodging itself in your throat again. you feel faint, your eyes going wide as you map the way simon moves towards you, gliding across ice with a rugged grace.

simon’s eyes are dark, lined with exhaustion and adrenaline, and his teeth, pearly, are chewing on his mouthpiece.

fuck—

he stops just in front of you and taps the glass protector. cameras flash by your sides and you know damn well you’d see your face later posted in different socials, but right now, in front of simon, you can’t even begin to care how ridiculous you might look.

(you looked breathless. cowed. in awe. everyone can’t fault you, really, after all that’s riley.)

you don’t even know what you did—did you wave your hand too? did you tap back? did you do something else, something that you typically wouldn’t have done?—but whatever it was, it has simon smiling, his lips tugging up to show more of his pearly teeth gnashing on his mouth guard.

you whimper.

-

"why the hell do you keep chewing on ye' gumshield?" mactavish asks in the weight room while he spots simon's reps. garrick is in the corner by himself while price is out with the coaches, discussing about other plays they can start with come the second period.

simon has to tamp down his smile at mactavish’s words, his arms almost buckling as the rush of inexplicable giddiness that fills him up, before he murmurs, "s'none of y'r business."

"oi!"

well what does mactavish want simon to say? that he accidentally peeked into one of the albums in your old phone only to be met by series of pictures of him biting on his mouthpiece and decided to tease you during today’s game?

that’d make him look like he isn’t serious about the game, wouldn’t it?

this is, truly, inspired by draisaitl 😔 and for @spngingerbread21 <33

[steviesummer]

inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:

Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.

“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.

He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [11]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Trigger Warnings: gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 10 | Fic Masterlist | Part 12

Hearing the cessation of all the screams, one of the royal guards gathered the courage to enter the chamber and check on Seonghwa, "Sir, are you done?"

Upon entering, he had yet to witness the state in which the former minister was left. The general stood before his victim, actively wiping all the blood off his hands with a towel prepared beforehand, "It's done. Has my assistant arrived to pick me up?"

"Yes, sir. Assistant Choi is waiting with your carriage by the entrance. If I remember correctly, he mentioned Lady Park helped prepare dinner today." A smile instantly graced your husband's face at the mere mention of you.

"Thank you, soldier. Bring in the rest and clean up the mess," He instructed, finally stepping away from the seat in the middle of the room, revealing the sight of your father slumped in the chair, both of his arms missing, blood gushing out from his shoulders, "Get him to a physician before banishing him. No need to treat him extensively; heal him just enough to keep him alive."

Freezing, the guard nodded quickly, "Y-yes, sir! We will not let you down!" His round eyes fixated on the two mutilated limbs on the ground in the middle of the puddle of crimson liquid.

The general was truly not someone to be underestimated, that was evident to the royal guards who filed in later on to clean up the bloody mess. They now understood why Seonghwa was so feared among those who had worked with him or witnessed his cold-blooded nature firsthand.

However, rather than instilling pure terror, your husband garnered more respect from them. He had gone to great lengths just to avenge his beloved wife. This demonstrated that the man still possessed a heart after all and that his affection for Lady Park was undeniable. He has proven that he could love just as fiercely as he hated.

Not a single member of the palace staff harboured even a hint of pity for the former Minister of Military Affairs as they dealt with his mangled body according to instructions. Any citizen with access to news was aware of all the cruel acts the old man had committed against his own daughter and first wife. It was safe to say that witnessing him in this state brought ample satisfaction not only to the general but to others as well.

"Sir, there's a bit of blood here."

The assistant extended his handkerchief, ensuring his master was free from any signs of bloodshed as they returned home. The last thing they all needed was for you to catch on to any of the events that occurred today; you should only focus on happiness and never spare another thought for your so-called family from now onwards.

"Thank you, Jongho," The general responded, taking the piece of fabric to remove the small bloodstain on his neck, "Keep me posted on where they banished that clown afterwards. It would be nice to check in on him once in a while, for entertainment purposes."

"Yes, sir."

Upon entering the estate, he was surprised not to find you waiting for him by the entrance, as was your usual routine when he returned from work. Only the head maid and a few servants stood there, ready to greet him, "Welcome home, master. We hope you had a good day at work." They said with a deep bow.

Seonghwa frowned, "Where's the mistress?" The elderly woman replied, "Mistress is currently at the main hall having a chat with Royal Secretary Choi while they were awaiting your return."

That immediately had the general rushing towards the hall. He didn't like the thought of you alone with... yet another handsome man. He had finally grown accustomed to having Yunho around the estate whenever he was at work, only because the two of you rarely interacted; he knew that thanks to daily reports from Eunsook. Now, jealousy was flooding his veins again.

What if you found San more attractive?

"Yes, I fully understand your concern. My sister faces similar issues," The royal secretary's voice carried from outside the hall, and then your softer response followed, "Thank you so much for your help, San. It means a lot to me."

They're already on a first-name basis?

"Help? With what?" He queried, abruptly pulling you and the secretary from your conversation. Both of you looked up at him, and you blinked and stammered nervously, quickly rising from your seat, "Oh, Seonghwa! You're home! It's nothing, we were just having a casual conversation while waiting for you."

Sensing your unease, San chuckled and concurred, "Yes, it was nothing important. It's good that you're back; I've come to deliver the minutes of today's assembly to you, as per His Majesty's orders."

"Please don't let me interrupt; I'll be waiting for you at the dining hall," You remarked to your husband, offering a nod of gratitude to the secretary, "It was nice talking to you, Royal Secretary Choi," The man respectfully bowed his head, "And you, Lady Park."

The general watched the interaction between you two with unmistakable envy, causing San to suppress a snicker into his fist, "Without further ado, general, let's proceed so that you can join your wife for dinner as soon as possible," Seonghwa nodded, feigning nonchalance, "Of course."

As the secretary continued to share the main details discussed during the assembly, he noticed the general's slight distraction. Wrapping up the debrief, he decided to ease your husband's thoughts by divulging the nature of your earlier conversation.

"Listen, before you came back, Lady Park and I were just talking about her concerns regarding being a better wife. Given that my elder sister, who is married, shares similar worries, I was merely offering some insights that might be helpful. So, don't stress over it too much, okay? I assure you, you're the only one on her mind."

Learning that you were only seeking to improve yourself for him, Seonghwa's heart melted immediately. Regret washed over him for entertaining the notion that you might find his colleague more appealing, and a slight embarrassment crept in, "I, uhh... it's not like I was worried about that or anything... but thank you, San. If that's all for today, Jongho will escort you out."

The secretary held back his knowing smile as they bid each other farewell before the general made his way to the dining hall. His heart pounded with excitement at the thought of being with you again.

Dinner went by as usual, though this time, you were brimming with enthusiasm as you shared how you spent the day learning to prepare his favourite dishes from the kitchen staff. You even mentioned the surprising discovery that you might have developed a love for cooking. He ate more than usual, savouring the fact that the meal was made just for him, and found it difficult to take his eyes off of you throughout the night.

He had once considered happiness to be a frivolous notion, something only fools wished for. He never anticipated being the one to experience it. Now that he had, your husband was determined not to lose this newfound feeling.

With your family matters now resolved, the only thing remaining was to give you the grand wedding you truly deserved. From then on, the plan was to enjoy a lifetime of this happiness together. Watching you munching away with joy, he couldn't resist reaching over to affectionately wipe the corner of your lips. At that moment, he realised that this was all he needed.

After the meal, he walked you back to the House of Lotus, hand in hand as usual. Upon reaching the entrance, you smiled up at him, "Have a good night, Seonghwa."

However, before you could turn and leave, he swiftly cupped your face, "Wait, before you go..." Your heart quickened as he leaned in, whispering, "Just one kiss, my love."

Almost instinctively, your eyes fluttered closed as soon as his lips met yours in a tender kiss. The warmth spread through your insides as he wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss by angling his head.

Feeling the sensation of his lips pressing against yours, again and again, you finally understood why couples enjoyed kissing. It was hard to put into words, but being so close to him felt pleasant, and your husband had a unique way of making you feel beautiful with his touches, even when you doubted it yourself. There was an almost addictive quality to it, making you feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be desired by the great General Park.

Perhaps I've found it... my happiness.

After breaking the kiss for a breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at you lovingly. In silence, the two of you remained in each other's arms, basking in the moment, reluctant to part.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short as your assigned group of servants approached, "Oh, pardon us for the intrusion, master and mistress! We came to assist in preparing the mistress for bed. May we proceed, master? Or, if you wish to stay with the mistress, we could also make arrangements for both of you for the night in the House of Lotus."

His heart raced as he witnessed the faint blush on your cheeks in response to the maid's suggestion. Chuckling, he gently shook his head and placed a kiss on your forehead, "No, the mistress needs her rest. Perhaps another time. Go on ahead then; she will join you soon."

"Yes, master, as you wish."

The servants entered your quarters to prepare your bath while you exchanged your goodnight. Caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, he couldn't resist leaning in for a final, lingering kiss on your soft lips, "Goodnight, my love. I'll see you tomorrow."

As you made your way to your room, he felt a swell of affection watching you turn for one last wave before disappearing inside. He missed you already, and as much as he would have loved to hold you close all night, he knew that waiting until your proper wedding night to share the same bed was the right decision. For now, this was more than enough. After all, he had the rest of his life to spend with you.

"Thank goodness the ointment has been remarkably effective. I don't think you need to harbour any insecurities about your appearance anymore. Lady Park, you look beautiful." said Physician Jung as he arrived to assess the condition of your skin. Having you apply the medicine he prepared for some time, he recognised that his work here would soon be done.

Eunsook couldn't contain the grin on her face at the slight pink dusting your cheeks from the doctor's compliment, suddenly relieved that her master was not around. Lord knows how unamused he would have been to hear any of that or see your reaction.

"Yes, thank you, Yunho. She's always been ravishing with or without your ointment. I think your job here is done; it's my turn to enhance this beauty. Head over to the general's study for your pay if that's all," The doctor couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the dressmaker's dramatic entrance, "It's nice to see you too, Hongjoong."

With a dismissive wave, he shrugged off the sarcastic greeting from his tall friend, saying, "I'll catch up with you soon; I have work to do." Left with no other choice, Yunho offered one final bow to you before leaving your room with a maid escorting him out.

Closing the distance between you, the dressmaker swiftly retrieved the new hanbok he had made specifically for the special occasion today, declaring, "Now, who is ready to outshine all the princesses in the palace? It's you, Lady Park!"

"Outshine the princesses? I d-don't think that's a good idea—"

He interrupted you before you could finish your protest, "Nonsense! I promised General Park to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon." With a small giggle, you sighed in defeat and allowed him to work his magic with the assistance of the head maid as they coordinated your appearance for your visit to the palace.

Today marked the day you and Seonghwa were meeting the King and Queen to discuss the details of your wedding ceremony in-depth, as well as allowing the royal couple to finally meet you after having heard so much about you. Even without having seen you, they already adored you from the stories your husband had shared. Not to mention, their hearts ached, especially after learning about your nightmarish childhood.

Seated at the vanity table, you gazed at your reflection in amazement as Eunsook worked on your hair and makeup, with Hongjoong providing expert advice and guidance. Just as the elderly woman was about to conceal the remaining faint scars on your face as she had always done, the dressmaker intervened, "No, wait. Leave the one on her forehead as it is; I have an idea."

With his extensive knowledge of fashion and beauty, he had always been intrigued by the Chinese makeup style, which incorporated temporary tattoos. Specifically, he was drawn to the idea of a small flower design painted onto women's foreheads.

Rather than covering your marks, he opted to transform them into an accessory that would improve your overall looks. With this distinctive look, you were bound to capture attention from all directions, not that your beauty didn't already achieve that. Now, you would stand out wherever you went, even within the palace grounds where princesses and royal concubines were always impeccably dressed.

Waiting by the entrance, Seonghwa turned when he recognised the sound of your dainty footsteps approaching. He didn't miss his assistant's awestruck expression, taking in your appearance from behind him, "Finally, Hongjoong's taken way too long..."

As you stepped into full view, his words trailed off, and his gaze fixed on you with a mix of astonishment and sheer admiration. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words to express what he felt. You had always been beautiful in his eyes, but his friend had truly outdone himself this time.

The most significant difference that caught the general's attention was the little red flower on your forehead, right between your eyes. That delicate design elegantly covered one of the scars you bore from your past. It was a stroke of genius from the dressmaker, turning a mark of pain into a unique and striking accessory that enhanced your natural beauty.

Your husband approached you, his eyes never leaving yours. Finally finding his voice, he whispered, "You look breathtaking, my love," before gently reaching up to trace the edge of the flower on your forehead, his touch soft and filled with so much love, "Hongjoong, you've done wonders."

The dressmaker grinned proudly and nodded in agreement, "I know, I always do."

Throughout the journey to the palace, the general found it hard to divert his gaze from you, just as you were captivated by the passing scenery outside. The roads to the palace differed from the usual routes leading to town, explaining your intrigue. As he admired your beautiful face, an unexpected desire surged within him to take you back home and shield you from others' eyes. A sudden uncertainty about wanting anyone else to see you overcame him. A selfish impulse urged him to keep you all to himself.

Before he could entertain the impulsive idea of turning the carriage around, Jongho had already announced their arrival. This time, Eunsook didn't bother to stand by and assist you down, instead waiting expectantly as the general smoothly helped you in one swift movement, determined to keep you close.

Having been here more than enough, Seonghwa knew this place might appear beautiful on the inside but could be very dangerous at the same time. People here might seem nice but rarely could be trusted, particularly the women. Well aware of this, he hesitated to let you wander off alone, despite your status as his wife. You were easily recognisable as Lady Park from a distance, anyone would have to be insane to dare mess with you.

Even so, he had no intention of leaving your side for even a moment. Palace servants passing by bowed deeply at both of you, and you did your best to maintain the poise of a noblewoman as practised with the head maid. The last thing you wanted was to make your husband look bad in here.

As you both approached the hall for the meeting with His and Her Majesty, the royal secretary rushed out to intercept the two of you. Almost as if your husband had jinxed it, San exclaimed, "There you are, General Park! We have a bit of a situation right now. Your immediate presence is required at an emergency meeting."

"But my wife—"

Finally realising you were present, the secretary bowed, "Oh, right, Lady Park! We're all aware you're here to discuss your wedding arrangements, but this really cannot wait. Even His Majesty is currently in this meeting expecting you. Would it be alright if we have your wife waiting by the cherry blossom garden? We'll have the servants prepare her some refreshments."

As much as Seonghwa detested the sudden change of plans, he acknowledged that he was left with no choice upon sensing the urgency in San's demeanour. With a nod of defeat, he agreed, "Okay, fine. Eunsook, please stay by the mistress' side at all times."

She nodded with a bow, "Of course, master."

Turning to you with a regretful frown etched on his brows, he said, "I'm sorry for having to leave you alone, my love. I'll come back to you as quickly as I can, I promise."

You shook your head with an understanding smile, "Don't worry about me, Seonghwa. I'll be fine. Your work is more important. Now hurry and go. Don't make His Majesty wait." Sighing lightly, he pecked you on the head before rushing off with the royal secretary.

"Lady Park, please come with us. We will guide you to the cherry blossom garden."

A team of palace maids appeared before you, showing you as much respect as they would towards royalty. Your status and reputation were well-known nationwide; you were favoured not only by your husband but also by the King and Queen themselves. No one would dare to disrespect you for fear of dire consequences.

Their dedication was evident in the top-tier hospitality as they led you to the enchanting garden, unlike anything you had ever seen. After thanking them politely, they prepared a seat for you in one of the pavilions within the vast garden, serving a tray of tea and some sophisticated-looking snacks.

Boredom eventually set in, and you glanced at one of the palace maids standing ready by the pavilion for any orders you might have for her, "Excuse me, would it be okay for me to take a walk around the garden?"

"Oh, certainly, Lady Park! Feel free to explore the garden as you please. Would you like any of us to accompany you?" Smiling and glancing at Eunsook, you declined, "No, thank you. We'll manage on our own. We won't be gone too long; you have my word."

"Thank you, Lady Park. Your assurance is appreciated; we'll await your return here." They bowed deeply as you and the head maid began your leisurely stroll.

As you wandered through the picturesque garden, marvelling at the vibrant colours of the flowers, you inadvertently caught the eye of a stranger who happened to be nearby. Your beauty, accentuated by the mark on your forehead, captivated the attention of this mysterious figure. What intrigued him even more was the unmistakable childlike innocence reflected in your eyes.

From a distance, he observed you with awe. The way you carried yourself, the genuine delight on your face as you admired the flowers and scenery—it all conveyed a sense of authenticity. Unlike anyone he had encountered, you seemed untouched by pretentiousness or spoiled airs.

Driven by an unexplainable urge to get closer, the stranger slowly made his way towards you, navigating through the enchanting garden. His curiosity was piqued, and he couldn't resist the desire to learn more about the intriguing woman who had captured his attention.

Unaware of the approaching figure as you immersed yourself in the beauty of the flowers, a clearing of the throat behind you signalled his presence. Eunsook, recognising the newcomer, widened her eyes and began to bow, but he gestured for her to remain silent with a finger against his lips and a subtle shake of his head.

Interrupting the tranquillity, the unexpected deep voice spoke, "It's beautiful, isn't it? Do you know what cherry blossoms symbolise?"

Startled, you turned to find a handsome man dressed elegantly, smiling down at you. After a moment of surprise, you nodded, "I do. I've read that they symbolise purity and beauty."

The man acknowledged, "That's right, much like you, my lady."

Concern flickered in the head maid's eyes, realising that the stranger might be unaware of your identity and possibly attempting to make a romantic gesture. Before matters could escalate, she decided to intervene, "Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang."

« Preview of Part 12 »

Seonghwa's eyes widened as they approached the War and Strategy Department building, where soldiers were marching about hastily, "Wait a minute, don't tell me—"

The royal secretary had no time to explain as he pulled the general into the meeting room where all military officials were seated and awaiting anxiously. The King, positioned in the middle of the room, sighed deeply upon noticing your husband's arrival.

"You're here, General Park. Is your wife also in the palace?" His Majesty asked, rubbing his head to alleviate an oncoming headache.

Seonghwa nodded in confirmation and inquired, "Yes, she is. She's waiting by the cherry blossom garden as we speak. Now, tell me. What is it? What has happened?"

With regret in his eyes, the King grimaced, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."

Just wanted to make it clear that Ruhon is a fictional country. I've thought about it and decided it's probably best not to use real places for fear of offending anyone.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/6): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @kamabokogonpachro @wh0re4yunho

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[uniivrz]

mic'd up

katie mccabe x reader

+ summary: reader, still on the acl squad, has been approached by the arsenal media staff asking if she'd go mic'd up in the stands for one of arsenal's games.

+ warnings: ACL injury mentions right off the bat. swearing. made up game (arsenal v tottenham). reader really embracing the WAG life.

a/n: i came across a video of katie during one of the covid matches, and due to the empty stadium you could hear everything she said— and that's where i got this idea :) my first post, hope you enjoy!

like any other football player, you hated the dreaded three letters that would take whoever was the unlucky soul out of the game for a long while.

of course it had always been a fear in the back of your mind, you just never thought it would actually happen to you.

that day you went down on the pitch had been one of the worst. not just for you, but for katie as well as the rest of your arsenal team.

everything had been fine. arsenal was up by two, and half time had just ended. it was around the 52nd minute, when a purposely bad tackle from a chelsea player left you on the ground, clutching your knee as you attempted to keep the tears at bay. (only to fail).

some time later you were holed up in one of the physio rooms of the stadium, when katie came in, the look on your face confirming her worst fear.

honestly, it was getting quite scary how many arsenal players were getting ACL injuries.

she had been by your side for all of it, constantly making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed, as well as driving you to and from appointments.

the downside meant you weren't able to travel with the team for away games, forcing yourself to be holed up in your flat you shared with katie— often inviting the rest of the ACL squad over to watch the game together, knowing you'd be insufferable on your own.

luckily for you, today was a home game. you woke up before katie that morning, hobbling down the stairs on your good leg, (and nearly eating shit in the process), you'd prepared her a proper breakfast, consisting of pancakes, bacon, & eggs.

the brunette soon appeared in the kitchen behind your unsuspecting frame, an adoring smile crossing her face at the sight of you lightly nodding your head to whatever song came from the speaker on the marble counter.

nearly jumping out of your skin at the feeling of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, your body relaxed as you registered the familiar feeling of katie, her arms clad in her arsenal training jacket.

you leaned into her touch as you finished up with the bacon, her thick irish accent rang through your ears as her nose brushed against your neck gently. "you should not be on your feet,"

rolling your eyes fondly, you forced yourself to suppress a smile. ever since your injury, katie had been treating you as if you were a porcelain doll— going to break at the slightest touch.

while sometimes it became a little overbearing, it warmed your heart for her to be this protecting with you, and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"i was cleared to walk without my crutches, katie," your giggled, relishing in the ticklish feeling of her light breathing against the back of your neck.

"still. ya should have waited for me." she murmured. "i could have carried you down here."

you rolled your eyes once again.

for the first few weeks/months of your injury, she had insisted on carrying you everywhere. from the bed to downstairs, from the front door to the car. no matter where it was— she wanted to carry you. wether it was bridal style, your legs wrapped around her waist, or giving you a piggy back, she didn't care.

after breakfast was finished, you rushed back up to change. you settled on one of katie's hoodie's, along with her jersey which you threw on top, and a pair of her sweatpants. nearly everything you wore was hers.

when you'd returned downstairs, she grinned widely at the sight of you dressed in her attire, and couldn't restrain herself from letting her hands roam your body as you shoved your feet into some sneakers.

"oi hands off, mccabe."

the ireland captain chuckled, tapping your rear end before you stood back up, sending you a cheeky wink when you glared at her.

arriving at the emirates with your personal chauffeur, the two of you made your way through the grounds, greeting any staff members you'd passed by and waving to the media staff as you each made your way toward your separate destinations.

you had a brief session with a physio to assure everything was still fine and dandy with your knee, whereas katie was heading off toward the locker room with the others.

as you left your meeting 15-ish minutes later, you had been wandering the halls when you were stopped by one of the media staff, claiming they had a task for you.

since you were going to be in the stands again, they had asked if you would go mic'd up, thinking it'd be a fun video idea for arsenal's youtube channel.

you agreed quickly, thrilled at the idea. they had informed you that there would be a camera a little ways away from you, to capture your reactions in both your voice as well as your actions.

one of the members clipped a small square microphone device to the collar of your (katie's) jersey, as another member held a camera and recorded your actions.

Youtube

Y/N L/N MIC'D UP • ARSENAL V TOTTENHAM

Arsenal 578K views 6:38

0:00

[Camera fades in from black to show you, stood in one of the many corridors of the Emirates Stadium.]

grinning, you gripped your shirt and pulled it closer, "we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! can you hear me?" you asked, looking into the camera that was recording you.

[Laughter is heard around you before the scene cuts and fades into a brief black screen. When it returns, the camera is unfocused, going in an out before focusing on you, looking at the camera as you don't realize it's recording.]

"is it going?" you asked with a dopey smile, the cameraman behind you nodding. "right. hi, i'm y/n l/n and today i'll be mic'd up as i watch tonight's game." you giggle, pointing at the microphone clipped to your shirt before you make your way toward your seat.

[Camera follows you down the hall before cutting to you sat with Beth, Viv, and Leah, the former two sat in the row below you. You pull a small, barely noticeable box out of your pocket. The camera zooms in on your hand, revealing the box is actually a miniature uno deck.]

"i know how we can pass the time," you grin micheviously.

0:45

[Camera cuts to the four of you playing uno, Beth and Viv swiveled in their seats to face you and Leah above them. It catches Leah attempting to peek at your cards before you shove her head away, the scene then switching to a new clip of the four women arguing.]

"absolutely not, beth cheated!" leah yells, hands dropping dramatically onto her thighs with a loud smack.

"you fucking wish! you just suck williamson!"

[Viv is seen trying to keep the peace as you laugh loudly, the four of you gaining looks from surrounding match watchers— only for them to look away at the sight of four of arsenal's own. Your laughter becomes louder as Leah slams her tiny cards aggressively onto your thigh, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair with a pout.]

"oh, cheer up captain," you pout mockingly, reaching to pinch her cheeks between your fingers.

1:02

[Camera cuts to the teams walkout, briefly showing Katie McCabe before turning back to you, a large grin on your face, never failing to leave.]

"that's my girl!" you shout, hands cupped around your mouth to make yourself louder. "let's go number fifteen!"

1:39

[Cuts to you leaned back in your seat with your arms folded. An amused look is on your face as you shake your head. Camera pans to the big screen as Katie's name is shown, a yellow card next to it.]

"it's been like thirty minutes and she already has a card," you giggle to yourself before sighing fondly, a gentle smile on your face. "that's my girl."

2:06

[Different camera shows Katie sliding her foot in front of a Tottenham player, successfully and cleanly retrieving the ball from her feet before panning to you with your elbows propped up on your knees, head resting in your hands.]

"oh my god, she's so hot." you sighed absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting about those surrounding you and the microphone attached to your collar.

[Beside you, Leah bursts out laughing, the sound picking up through your mic as the blonde discretely turning to the cameraman who has now directed it toward her, pointing at you before fake wretching.]

3:21

[Camera shows you jumping up out of your seat, annoyance clear on your face as your hands are perched on your hips.]

"oh, come the fuck on! that's so clearly a foul!"

4:38

[During halftime, the camera follows as the four of you briefly leave your seats to join the girls in the locker room. The cameraman does not enter, only filming the door, however you can be heard from inside.]

"north london is what?!"

"north london is red!" an irish voice answers you.

"hell yeah it is!" you reply, then followed by the sound of palms smacking against each other.

another voice cuts in, "alright, simmer down you two!"

"oi! put her down, she's fragile!"

4:50

[Camera cuts to you stood with your hands on Katie's shoulders, giving her your usual half time pep talk, brushing stray fly-aways out of her face as she smiles at you. The sound is cut off, so the viewers can only see the motion of both players' lips moving as you speak to each other, the final thing being Katie moving toward you, scenes changing just before any PDA is shown.]

5:47

[Camera pans from Katie running around the pitch celebrating, arms in the air and then back to you, the four Arsenal players chanting together, you being the loudest and most enthusiastic of the four.]

"we've got mccabe! katie mccabe! i just don't think you understand! she plays out on the wing! she hits it with a zing! we've got katie mccabe!"

6:25

[Video closes out with you and Katie stood outside of the stadium, her arm wrapped around your shoulder as you do the outro.]

"that was me mic'd up, i hope i was entertaining enough for you all. thanks for watching." you grin shyly, waving with both hands. "leave a comment if you think katie should get mic'd up next."

[Katie laughs before kissing your cheek affectionately, the brunette waving bye with her free hand before the video fades to black.]

Instagram Posts

ynln

Liked by victoriapelova and 51,094 others

ynln Watch me go Mic'd Up as I watch Arsenal Women's recent match against Tottenham!

Video is out now on the Arsenal Youtube Channel and the Arsenal Instagram Account!

— view all comments

katie_mccabe11 It's a good one 😉

⤿ bethmead_ We know why you think that 🙄

username petition to get yn mic'd up again, sign here

⤿ username signed

⤿ username signed

⤿ ynln signed

leahwilliamson Alternate title, YN thirsting over Katie for 6 minutes straight 🤢

⤿ katie_mccabe11 Jealous are we, Williamson?

Twitter/X

ynsmccabe that new video arsenal posted of y/n l/n is now my favorite thing

⤿ the clip of her and katie in the hall OMG

⤿ mccardlover no because they literally the only couple ever

⤿ meadema99 leah getting upset over beth cheating in uno after she literally tried to look at y/n's cards 😭😭

username pls the amount of bleeps they had to add to this video because of yn 😭

⤿ username never heard someone curse so many times in 6 minutes

katiespelova oh i need more mic'd up videos with the rest of the team now

username if my relationship isn't like katie's and yn's i don't want it

[bad268]

omg im obsessed with your work! could i please request kimi antonelli and a reader who is just kind of sad and cries a lot? or just like some general comfort? xx

Strawberry Margarita Mix (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Menstruating! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Also, combined this with #3, Figure Skating Anon <3 I love both of you and I hope yall don't mind I made this part of Clingy Antonelli)

Warnings: Menstruating reader, midol mentioned, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1430

Summary: The reader's period makes them a little emotional, but Kimi knows the trick.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It didn’t happen a lot, but whenever you were the clingy one, it meant everything was wrong and the world was gonna end. It was usually only a problem when you didn’t feel good, which was rare. The other common reason occurred every month like clockwork. Your period was one of the worst things you could experience, and it was always a role reversal for you and Kimi. 

He was usually the clingy one, but during your monthly hell week, your level of cling outweighed him easily. It sucked when he had a race, but the summer break was one of the few times you did not have to worry about being separated for races or the like. He made it very clear to any team he signed with that there was always one week a month that he would not be coming in for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. Mercedes was no exception.

Granted they knew about you since you and Kimi had been dating for as long as they could remember, but when he got signed to the F1 team, they continued their original agreement. 

And that’s where you were now. 

You were supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the Maldives, but no. You were curled up in your room, crying because you ran out of strawberry margarita mix. You may have been completely miserable, but you wanted to at least pretend you were on vacation, and when you saw the mix was gone from the last time you wanted to get into the vacation vibe, you just cried.

“I can get you more, amour (love),” Kimi comforted as he wrapped you in his arms, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face. He really wanted to take you seriously, but this was the seventh time you cried today.

The first was because you couldn’t find the remote. Then it was the sunrise was so pretty, it brought tears to your eyes. Then the water was too cold when you took a bath. That was Kimi’s fault, and he apologized. Next, you accidentally stained your favorite pair of sweatpants which were actually Kimi’s, and your throw blanket. You had two separate episodes from that. One because you stained the paints and blanket, and another one because you didn't want to do laundry. Lastly, you cried because you felt like you were missing out.  

This vacation in the Maldives had been planned with a group of your friends, and seeing their posts on Instagram made you feel like you were missing out. However, a small part of you also knew you would be miserable in the Maldives too. You’d rather subject Kimi to your moodiness rather than your entire friend group, but you were experiencing some major FOMO.

Then Kimi had the incredible idea of doing similar things at your apartment like drinking margaritas and tanning, and you planned to go to a beach later in the week. It sounded like a great plan at first, but as soon as you saw there was no strawberry margarita mix, it felt like the end of the world.

“No,” You wined as you hid in his chest. You wanted to stop the tears, but it was harder said than done.”I wanted strawberry margaritas.”

“We have classic lime. Does that work until we can get more?” Kimi tried to offer as he swayed you two back and forth and ran his fingers along your back in a comforting manner. 

“No,” You dragged out again with more tears as you sort of melted in his arms to sit on the ground in the fetal position. You weren’t crying about the margarita mix anymore. Your cramps started flaring up and the last thing you wanted to do was stand. “I hate this.”

I know you do amour (love),” Kimi consoled as he sat on the kitchen floor beside you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He also snaked his hand between your thighs and stomach to place his hand on your tummy as a makeshift heat pack for the time being. “I know it hurts now, but you’ll get through this. You’re the strongest person I know, and I know you always prove to be stronger each and every month.”

“I don’t feel very strong,” You muttered as you turned to bury your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Why does it always have to be so painful?”

“How about this?” Kimi starts, He moves his arm from your shoulders to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. He gently whipped away the stray tears from your cheeks before placing a light kiss to your lips. “I think you just need some pampering and cuddles, so why don’t we go and watch a movie in our room? We can have all of the snacks you want, and if you’re feeling up for it, we can go out for your favorite pasta later. How does that sound?”

“I think that sounds like heaven,” You sighed as you leaned into his hand.

“Good, you go get comfy, and I’ll grab anything and everything you could want,” Kimi left one last kiss on your nose before standing, holding his hand out to help you up as well. 

“Except the margarita mix?” You joked lightly when you stood up, smirking at Kimi as you teased.

“Except for the margarita mix,” Kimi sighed with a small smile. “Now, go before I leave you in the bed all alone.”

“No!” You shouted as you immediately clung to his arm as tears sprung into your eyes again., “Don’t say that!”

“I’m kidding amour (love),” Kimi chuckled as he kissed your forehead before looking back at you. “I promise, I’ll be in our room in like 5 minutes. You go pick a show or movie, and I’ll get all of the snacks for you. I’ll also get your hot water bottle. Let me handle all of it while you get comfy.”

Begrudgingly, you left his side to go take a quick shower to wash off before putting on a new t-shirt and sweatpants, taking care of your products as well. Then you set up in bed. You laid out a towel on our bed just in case a leak happened again before you got comfortable under your comforter and loaded up Netflix. You went to your comfort movie/show and prompted it up for when Kimi came in. Speaking of Kimi, it had definitely been more than five minutes. You gave him a couple extra minutes, thinking he lost track of time, but it didn't take long for him to walk in the room with everything. 

Every comfort snack, drink, candy, and ice cream you had ever mentioned. He had everything for you. He also had a glass in his hand, but you couldn’t see what it was. You assumed it was your comfort drink already poured out. He set all of the snacks around the bed before setting your Stanley cup on your bedside table beside a couple of Midols. He always put water in it and encouraged you to stay hydrated. Then, he put the glass in your hand.

“Thank you, baby,” You said as you took a drink from the glass and immediately made a shocked face. “Strawberry margarita?”

“Don’t be so shocked,” Kimi chuckled as he sat next to you under the covers. “It was pretty easy when you can get things delivered. I have us stocked for a while, so any time you want a margarita, you let me know.”

“Not just any margarita, Kimi,” You graned as you leaned into his side, “A strawberry margarita.”

“Oh, my bad,” He teased back as he played the movie/show. This was what you needed. Just to be held by him. That’s all you wanted and needed in this moment. It was like as soon as he wrapped his arms around you, you were gone. You snacked a little on what was around you, but honestly, crying took a lot out of you. You were ready to just collapse for the next week. You didn’t want to yet, though. You still had one more thing you wanted to say. 

“Kimi,” You whispered as you looked up at him from your place on his chest. He hummed in response, almost asleep but not totally gone yet. “Thank you for putting up with me. Ti amo (I love you).”

“Ti amo di più, mia vita (I love you more, my life),” He whispered back, pulling you tighter against his chest. “Sempre (Always).”

~~~

Part 4 ->

Series masterlist

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Grand Line Crew Modern Au Gang!

i hope yall enjoy, this took a while to get all together, here

ASL post

East Blue Crew post

Friends we made along the way 1 post

Friends we made along the way 2 post

i dont have many additional headcanons for this lot, but i did write a short story with them :) enjoy

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

Brook only wears the absolute grooviest of clothing at all times.

That’s just gonna have to be there 👆 tumblr likes to glitch out my posts.

Dont give chopper caffeine. He’ll either have a heart attack or operate on 5x speed, its a gamble every time.

robin and franky love watching home improvement shows, house hunters, how its made, myth busters, and other technical shows together.

When Luffy shows robin memes on his phone, she takes out her reading glasses and holds the phone like a mom does. Ya know that squint. You know.

Jinbei used to be a trucker and had a convoy with s bunch of his truckin’ buddies. They had matching leather jackets with “the sun truckers” embroidered on the back

Franky has a wig closet. It is vast. If you went in there you'd think you were in Narnia or something

Chopper is BEYOND CONVINCED that Sabo is a vampire.

One day, sabo volunteered as an assistant in a medical class chopper was taking. He was acting as chopper’s patient as he was learning the patient procedures of a checkup.

It was all going fine, chopper got all the patient identification out of the way and next was to acquire blood pressure, breath count, and heart rate. But the stethoscope and pressure monitor wasn’t working, and it make it seem like Sabo,,, didnt have a pumping heart,, or blood,,, or really breathed at all(he doesnt take very visible breaths).

Chopper was stricken with fear at this and assumed the absolute worse as he looked in horror at Sabo’s naturally pale complexion and long canine teeth. Chopper simply jotted down the average count of each recording instead of getting new equipment, and tried not to think about it, but

“huh, all of those numbers are usually lower than that. Maybe all that Special Concoction™ i drink is finally catching up to my heart rate.”

“how much have you.. drunk?”

“like for today? Or since I woke up.”

Chopper is fucking horrified. Sabo woke up to being a vampire and drinks blood as a special concoction. He cannot believe this.

”Never mind, I don't need to know, its all normal, you're normal.”

“Wow… that's the first time a medical practitioner has called me normal. My brothers are gonna get a real kick outta this.”

CHOPPER IS FUCKING HORRIFIED. HE HAS BRETHEREN??? Chopper just keeps his head down and finishes up the check up practice as Sabo remarks he has another class in the blood bank, which was lemon in the paper cut for chopper.

For a month or so after that day, Chopper didn’t see Sabo at all, and he forgot about his fear for a little while. However one night as chopper was hanging with Luffy and a few others in the straw hat friend group, there was a knock at the door. Chopper happily said “I’ll get it~” as the rest of the group continued in conversation.

Chopper skips over to the door and when he opens it, he sees the figure of Sabo standing in front of him. Tall and opposing, smiling a big toothy grin with bright blue eyes shining from the overhead lighting. He’s wearing a long trench coat with the collar popped and an ascot was wrapped around his neck.

What chopper was seeing before him.

Was the vampire.

He let out a scream right out of a horror film and promptly fainted.

A minute or two later, he awoke laying on the couch, feet elevated and vest unbuttoned, to his friends looking at him from the foot of the couch.

He goes to stand up, but a strong gloved hand stops his movement and guides him back down

“Don't get up too quickly, little man.”

Chopper looked next to him and saw The Vampire. What was he doing in his house?!?!?

“Are you alright, bud? You opened the door for me, screamed in my face, and then passed out.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Chopper said with the highest voice-crack to word ratio in his entire life.

“Right. Well again, dont get up too quickly, if you need water or anything let your friends know. I just came here to pick up Luffy cuz some family stuff came up. Have a good night!”

“…you too, and thanks for taking care of me…”

“No prob!”

“One last question?” Inquired chopper.

“What's up?”

“Did someone invite you in?”

the end

PS: Sabo's "special concoction" consists of Red Bull and Espresso. He hasn't slept in 72 hours. This will have lasting effects on his health.

thats all for now! thanks for reading~

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 1

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

A/N: This has been sat in my drafts for a while coz i was kinda scared to post it, coz its a new reach of people I'm looking for.

It started off with a silly little tweet you'd made in the summer break when you werent racing. You didn't feel like watching old F1 or MotoGP races and there was no movie that immedielty came to mind.

So you scrolled through youtube. At first it was a documentary about the ocean, and you had to switch it out. Which is how you came across a channel called Sam and Colby, two American boys who... well you didn't actually think they had a 'thing:

Your YouTube consisted solely of vlogs and car/bike videos that you did. That was your niche. However these two didn't seem to have a specific niche, you perused them seeing that they vlogged and did challenges and prank video and even back in the day were part of vine.

The most recent things they'd been sticking too by the looks of things were these paranormal investigations. They went to these haunted places with cool gear and filmed the experience. You were very intruiged as the paranormal was something you'd believed in just never interacted with.

After watching them bring people on, and be scared shitless you knew you'd boss something like this.

You were alone in your house, drinking which is where the tweet actually came from.

There was a lot of action from both fans of motorsport and YouTube fans. You of course got some hate from the tweet from the YouTube side and hence started the fued between your fans and Colby and Sam fans.

It wasn't until the podcast you went on that the duo took notice of you.

"So today I'm here in the studio with Y/N, now this I think is an intertsing podcast for both of us, because you've only been on Motorsport related ones so far correct?"

"Yes" you smile nodding. You'd actually been on a few podcasts as you really enjoyed talking to people and hearing their stories and being able to talk about your own experiences and hardships.

You started of with the generic motorsport questions, that were all angled at you being a woman in motorsport. Which you enjoyed as you knew getting to the position you had now was a hard hard feat you managed to overcome.

He then got onto more general questions about you life, which again you were happy to answer.

"I do have something that people asked me to ask when we first annouced you here and that was about the tweet with Sam and Colby?" he says looking to his notepad making sure he was keeping in his order.

"Mmmm, what about it?" you smile knowing this was going to be a thing.

"So you basically said along the lines of, if you were in a Sam and Colby video that you wouldn't be scared, why is that?" he asks tilting his head to the side.

"Well, not much scares me when i drive motorbikes at roughly 250 kmph. You know, I've come off those bikes and had my life flash before my eyes as I go into the barrier. One of my worst crashes nearly killed me, but I got back on the bike, one I healed and I won my first race back in Lusial. As part of the Red Bull family I've helped them with some crazy challanges, beat Max Verstappen in an F1 car and lots more. So i think it would genuinely take a lot to scare me!" you smile explaining your thought process behind your tweet and how you think you'd genuinely react.

"So I'm guessing you'd be like down to collab with them at some point!" he asks.

"Yeah of course, I know these things take time to plan so obviously you know with both our busy schedules it probably wouldn't be anytime soon, but you never know!" you grin and after a few more questions before the podcast ends.

It was around a week later, you were in your home gym getting some weight training in when a message dings up. You stop the current exercise your doing to check it.

It was an instagram DM from the Sam and Colby official account. You click on the notification to go onto the chat to look at what they'd messaged you.

Of course you immedielty replied. You exchanged numbers with both the boy's before Colby made a group chat asking when you were free.

It was harder to find times than you expected, the next time you all would be free was during your winter break from racing. Which was risky to confirm anything, especially to their fans as anything could happen to you in that time.

You agreed on a date and time to tell your fans.

The next step was you inviting them to a race weekend, you wanted to meet them but obviously didn't have much time between races. So you invited them to your home race at Silverstone in the United Kingdom.

They decided to make it a whole thing, where they explored some haunted places across England after coming to see you at your race.

You decided to meet them at the airport first and you couldn't hold in your nerves to meet them, you never had the best people skills which is probably why you went into the career path that you did.

You waited for them in the arrivals area, it wasn't too busy due to the time of the day, just a few business men in suits. You looked around for a board to see when their plane had landed, but could find one.

"Y/N?" you hear from behind you.

A/N: I don't know what the fandom's like on here, but I just like writing about cool situations that help with writers block for writing my book! If you follow me for F1 and General Motorsports this is me branching out my writing into another hyper fixation of mine that’s been around for a while!

[wonderlandwalker]

Adventure Unlocked | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: You unexpectedly figure out a new kink Eddie has and plan the perfect moment to test it out

Content Warnings / Tags: Smut, 18+, porn with very little plot, PnV

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Once again not proofread but I haven't had much time to write recently so still wanted to post this. Got the idea from a request @urhoneycombwitch read and couldn't get it out of my head so here's my take on it.

It was supposed to be just another day at Eddie's trailer, a study date like the two of you regularly had, where you would try and catch up on reading and Eddie would do anything but. Except dates with Eddie were rarely like they were supposed to be, and today wasnt an exception. He was sitting at his desk, working on a new campaign while you sat at the bed with your books spread out, trying to concentrate but inevitably reading the same paragraph over and over again.

“Can you hand me the folder from the nightstand please?” You weren’t listening, not really anyway, only humming in respone, causing him to call out once more.

“Sweetheart, hand me the notes.” He was more assertive now, his tone of voice deeper in order to capture your attention, and it worked. 

“Yes sir.” It was meant as a quip, as banter the two of you were so used to, but Eddie’s head shot up the moment you said it. You noticed the blush creeping up on his neck as his mouth was slightly opened, eyes staring into yours. And just as quickly as it had happened, it was gone. A small cough to recover his composure and his focus back on his writing, but you still caught his glance everytime he looked in your direction, still noticed the manner in which he fidgeting wirh his pen. You had noticed, and there was no turning back now.

"Eddie" he only hummed in response to your inquiry, not daring to make eye contact just yet

"Eddie, look at me" he was slow to comply, nervous about your response, because Eddie wasn't stupid, the cat was out of the bag now.

"Does that turn you on?" Still hesitant, he moved his head up once more, not realising how much closer You had gotten to him by now, but the moment he looked at you, all his worries disappeared, because your expression was soft, there was a twinkle in your eyes that he could only describe as exited, and the way your pupils were dilated told him he wasn't the only one into this.

"Yeah" it was barely a whisper, a confession he didn't think he'd be making, so delicately given because he knew you would never crush it. 

Just as you were leaning in to connect his lips with yours, the front door opened, and Wayne shouted to inform you he had gotten home from work, having picked up dinner for the three of you on his way, so you decided to put a pin in your new discovery. 

The next days came and went as the both of you were busy trying to keep up with life, and Eddie didnt push the subject, perhaps worried it was not something you were comfortable with, but little did he know he only needed to wait a little bit longer, because you had been planning. Planning the perfect moment to continue where the two of you had left off, and right now while you were at the hellfire club is where it all came together, 

He looked at the clock above the door and back to you, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“Where is everyone else?” They were never late, always so eager to get started they wouldn’t dare miss anything.

“I told them we’re starting a bit later today” Your tone was nonchalant, and it threw him off further.

“Why would you tell them that?” He looked so cute while thinking so hard, trying to trace back the day to figure out what had warrented this.

“Because I have some other plans first.” You had pushed your chair back, walking over to where he was sitting.

“What are you talking about” He was still very much in the dark, not quite catching on to pitch in your voice dropping ever so slightly.

“Don’t you have a quest for me?” You were standing in front of him now, supporting yourself on the arm rests of his throne, he was getting flustered with how close you were, fidgeting from his clueless nature. 

“I didn’t prepare any new adventures.” He looked up into your eyes as you leaned down closer to whisper in his ear.

“I’m sure you can think of one, dungeon master.” You could feel his body shudder from how close you were, and as you leaned back you saw his pupils dilate. 

“Do you mean-”

“Yeah” That’s all it took for him to understand, because he immediately took the opportunity to capture your face in his hands and kiss you with all the might he had. You’re sure he could have simply kept doing that all night, but you had other plans. So you started to trail kisses down his neck, paying extra attention to the pulse point right underneath his ear that you knew made him grow weak every single time, he was putty in your hands, and that’s exactly how you liked it. 

After a little while you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. You could see him struggling to keep his eyes open as you palmed him through his trousers, already hard from the idea alone. He wasted no time in shimmying out of them as you tugged at the fabric, letting it pool around his ankles. 

You didnt waste any more time taking his dick into your hands, stroking him slowly as you watched his head fall back and hit the back of the chair, but that was the last thing on his mind right now.

“Baby please” it was closer to a whine then it was to a question, and it turned you on just the same. You looked up at him once more, the tension causing him to catch your gaze before you spoke.

“Why don’t you make me?” It was a challenge, one he wasnt about to turn down. It only took one more look into your eyes, seeing the calmth behind them, before he complied. He raked his hand through your hair, twisting it in order to get a grip as he pushed your head down towards where he needed you the most. You were more than happy to comply, using your tongue in a sloppy attempt to keep up with the rhythm in which he was pushing down your throat. Eddie’s size had always been hard to take, but with practise and patience you had gotten better at it, breathing through your nose now as he hit the back of your throat, causing a slight gag from you which in turn made him realised a loud moan of your name as he leaned back into his throne. 

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” It was sweet, how he could be so out of his mind and still remind you, still praising you.

His grip faltered and you took it as a sign to double your effort, taking him deeper until your nose nestled against his pelvic bone, making you gag against him. A borderline sinful moan left him at the feeling, and as you were about to prepare yourself for the feeling of his cum sliding down your throat, he pulled you off him. For a split second you wondered if something was wrong, but the moment you met his eyes and saw the raw lust radiating in them, you knew what was about to happen.

“I need to be inside of you sweetheart, sit on my lap” This was the Eddie you had been trying to lure out, and you wouldnt dare let him ask twice. 

So you got off your knees and as you stood up his hands found the backs of your thighs, pulling you into his lap. His mouth attached itself feverishly to your neck, sucking bruises you’re sure would be visible for days, not that you’d mind. His hands were everywhere now, roaming over your ass and finding their way underneath your shirt as he took your nipples between his fingers and tugged at them, causing you to arch your back, leaning further into him.

“Does that feel good baby” His tongue was still hot on your skin, and the question was muffled by your own body, not daring to lean away from him. All you could do was moan out his name, desperate for him to continue. But right after you did you felt a sting on your ass as one of Eddie’s hands was now massasiging the flesh and his other found its way under your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

“That’s not what you call me now is it.” His tone had dropped an octave, and it was driving you insanel. “I’m sorry.. sir” Immediatly a grin appeared on his face.

“Much better sweetheart.” he moved his head in order to be able to attach his lips to the upper part of your breasts, every once in a while using his teeth to nip at the flesh there. In the meantime his hands made their way back under your skirt, kneading your inner thighs as he inched closer and closer to where you needed him the most. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to touch me.” He looked up from where his mouth had made its home, a gleam in his eye that you werent sure you should feel worried or excited, but it sent a thrill down your spine nonetheless.

“I’m already touching you.” 

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, hm” His fingers trailed closer to your core as they slipped your underwear to the side, sliding over your folds, teasing you.

“You’re so wet for me already, is this where you need me honey” 

“Please-” He kissed you as one of his fingers entered you, his thumb tracing slow circles on your clit as he swallowed your moans.

“That’s it princess, think you can handle another?” You wanted to answer him, but all you could do was nod as he looked at you expextingly, reconnecting your lips in a searing kiss the moment he added another finger, crooking them and causing you to cling onto him, your nails leaving faint scratch marks on his shoulders.

But as the feeling started to build he removed his fingers from inside of you, not leaving you empty for long as you could feel his hard dick at your entrance, pushing all the way inside with one thrust. It always made you feel so full to have him inside of you, and this time was no exception, the way he was stretching you feeling so good.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well, perfect for me.” His breathing had become laboured, and the way he was already ruthlessly thrusting up in you you figured he wouldn’t be lasting long either. 

“Need you to cum for me sweetheart, think you can do that?” Once again all you could do was whine as your head rested on his shoulder, hoping he knew you well enough to know what you needed.

“Fucking you so good you can’t even talk anymore. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you.” He found your mouth in a slow kiss, much different than the ones before, now he took his time, exploring with his tongue and silencing all the pleas that left you. The moment his long fingers found your clit you were a goner, all that built up tension and pleasure toppeling over as you came undone around him, your walls spasming and gripping him even tighter, etching Eddie towards his orgasm as well.

“Shit baby, where do you want me-”

“Inside, need you to cum inside of me” That’s what did him in, he didnt waste another second as he pushed his hips into you, his cum painting your walls as he let out more profanities. 

For a minute the two of you sat there, with him still inside of you as he traced gentle patterns onto your back with his fingertips, his face nestling into your hair as he basked in your presence.

“We’re definitely doing that again.” His matter of fact tone made you giggling, causing him to squeeze his arms around you in a tight hug

“Whatever you say, dungeon master” His eyes immediately grew dark again at the title, looking down at you with that glimmer you loved to see.

“Careful what you say sweetheart, I can go another round right now” Just as he was about to prove it to you, a series of loud knocks came from the door. “Why is the door locked, are you guys in there?” Dustins voice rang from the hallway, and Eddie started to get up in order to let them in.

You got up in order to move to the chair next to him, but just as you were about to sit down Eddie grabbed you by the hips as he sat down in his throne, positioning you to sit on his lap as you got started on today's session. As you were playing his cum started to drip out of you and onto his leg underneath your skirt, and from the way he started squirming you knew he noticed as well, telling you this definitely wasn’t over yet.

[schoenpepper]

All Sorts of Love

Intro: Kalim hasn't felt this kind of love before.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, yandere, one google translated arab word

A/N: For that one anon I hope you like this because I have spiralled into "what kind of yandere would Kalim be" and boyyyy I tried. I don't like the ending too much though. But honestly I feel like even if he was yandere he'd still turn to Jamil, right? They're like overly codependent. Also had way too much fun with the colors.

Masterlist

Kalim knows what love is.

Growing up, he'd been surrounded by a lot—maybe too much of it. From his parents to his siblings, he was spoiled, adored, and loved. He used all that love and poured it into himself like a valve, letting it flow right back to the world from within his body. He loves the sun, the sky, and his family; he loves his friends, the sea, and the wind as it ruffles his hair when he's on a magic carpet ride. He loves you.

Because you're his friend too.

He looks at the page in his notebook. One hour into Trein's lecture, and it's void of actual notes—only your name, little chibi doodles of you, and little hearts surrounding everything. He thinks you're so cute. He's glad that you two are friends and that you're so close with him. He has lots of friends, but you're different. Because you're best friends, like Jamil!

(Jamil denies it sometimes, but he doesn't mind. Jamil is still the closest person to him, even after the whole inky disaster.)

The bell rings, and he sweeps everything from his desk right into his bag. Jamil has basketball practice today, so hey, maybe he can hang out with you! You like hanging out with him, right? A happy tune is on his lips as he walks out of the classroom, his feet leading him towards the first years' classes. Your dismissal for this class was about thirty minutes later than his own, so he sits down on a bench and sways his feet, waiting patiently.

(He memorized your schedule so you guys can hang out more!)

He can't do much while waiting, except for playing on his phone. He sees a picture you'd posted on Magicam yesterday and clicks the like button—it's of the two of you, so he comments with a 'WE LOOK SO GOOODDDD' and saves the image, using it as his screen wallpaper. The background was the amusement park he'd begged you to go to with him, cotton candy swirls in your hands as you stood together with happy smiles. Jamil took the photo, which is great! Because for some reason, even though the two of you are his best friends, he doesn't like the thought of Jamil standing next to you or doing as he did in the picture and feeding you a piece of his cotton candy. Just thinking about it made him upset. He doesn't like feeling upset, so he doesn't want to think about it anymore.

The bell rings, and the freshmen pour out of their classrooms like a swarm of insects. Several Scarabia first-year students greet him, and he smiles in turn, while his ruby-red eyes scan the crowd for your figure.

Too short, too tall, wrong hair color, wrong hair texture—ah!

It's you.

"Y/N!" Kalim all but runs over to you with the widest smile on his face, almost bowling you over to the ground with his hug.

"Kalim!" You smile back just as happily, ignoring Grim, who'd fallen to the ground from your shoulder. Kalim beams brighter when he feels your arms wrap back around him, and he stays still until Ace speaks up.

"Uh, are you guys gonna keep hugging, or can we get going?"

"Right! Y/N, come with me, okay? I wanna show you something." He knows you'll fall for his wide, pleading eyes when he asks the question. As expected, you only nod and follow him, leaving Grim with the two Heartslabyul boys with promises of tuna when you pick him up later.

Kalim holds your hand the whole time as he pulls you back to Scarabia. He listens to how your day went with all 110% of his attention span, letting you finish your story before opening the storage room door. "Huh? What are we doing here, Kalim?" He giggles and runs with you over to one corner. He doesn't like that he has to let go of your hand, but he dives headfirst into the mountain of gold to try and find the thing he's looking for. He pulls a small box out of the pile and collapses to the floor, out of breath. "Uh, are you okay?" You ask, barely holding back your laughter.

"I'm okay!"

He loves seeing you laugh. He thinks you shouldn't hide it.

"So what did you want to show me?"

He stands back up and opens the box. Inside is a gold bracelet with little heart-shaped rubies, the same color as his eyes. "This! I just remembered that my parents sent it with me when I got into NRC. It was my jida's. Do you like it?"

You smile and admire the bracelet.

But you never touch it.

"It's gorgeous, Kalim."

"Great!" He fumbles a little bit as he takes it out of the box, gesturing for your hand. "I'll put it on for you!"

"What? No, I can't accept that, Kalim."

"Please! They told me to give it to an important person, and you're very important to me," he insists. You look at him hesitantly, but still refuse. "That's different, I don't think they mean that kind of important, Kalim."

"Y/N...am I not important to you?"

Finally, finally, you waver and fold. You let him put the bracelet on you. He can't help himself; he intertwines your fingers with his own as he admires the way it sits on your wrist. He can almost imagine the way his own grandmother had worn it in the past. She must've looked beautiful, but he thinks no one could ever compare to you. You two sit down on some random carpet in the store room as he continues to appreciate how it shines on your skin, his thumb subconsciously rubbing circles on your hand. When he looks back at your face to say something, he freezes for a few seconds. 

You're looking at him so...adoringly.

Eyes soft and sweet, like honey is swirling within your irises. Your lips are slightly parted, as if you're hesitating to say something, and your grip on his hand is tightening. He watches you take a deep breath and speak.

"Kalim," you say his name like it's nothing he's ever heard before. "I like you, as more than a friend. No, Kalim, I love you."

And for once, he doesn't know how to respond to this love.

For all the love given to him by his parents, his ancestors, his siblings, his cousins, his human friends, his animal friends—none of it had prepared him to be loved by you, no, not like this. He loves you. But... as a friend.

Right.

Because loving you like that, what would it mean? Would it let you spend more time together or less? Would you smile at him or fight with him more? What does that kind of love entail?

He likes your friendship.

So, "Can't we just stay friends?"

He sees your heart crack from the way you look at him, how you pull away, and how you immediately unclasp the bracelet and put it back in his hands. There are tears streaming down your face and leaving trails down your cheeks as you speak, and your voice is so shaky that he feels so bad for what he said. But he can't take it back. "Okay, I'm, I'm so sorry." You stammer out through choked sobs as you stand up and start to walk away.

"Hey, Y/N!" He tries to go after you, but you break out into a full run before he can do anything.

Maybe he should leave you alone for a while. With all the thoughts in his mind that he can't make sense of at the moment, maybe he needs that alone time just as much as you do.

He sighs.

First Jamil, now you.

(Since when has friendship been so hard?)

The 'alone time' takes at least three days.

By the fourth day, Kalim is ready to be your friend again. He can't handle the awkward glances or seeing your teary eyes just the day after the incident, but he can't leave you forever! You're his best friend, and he wouldn't lose you over this. He'd thought that after giving you some space, you would bounce right back and maybe go on a magic carpet ride with him again.

So...why are you still avoiding him...?

He'd lost sleep over the past three days, lost focus. Jamil had been on his tail about homework and projects. But he's so distracted. Where are you? What are you doing? Are you okay now?

Do you still love him?

He walks over to your cafeteria table, where you're seated with your friends. "Y/N!" He's blocked by a very angry Grim, hissing and all fur standing on end. He's so confused when Ace and Deuce try to get him to leave, when Epel is glaring at him, when Jack is hiding you behind his muscled figure, when Ortho is just quietly scanning him, a strange red laser pointing to his forehead, or when Sebek is yelling at him that you don't want him around.

Do you really...not want him around?

He's pulled away by Jamil when Ortho's eyes start glowing red.

Why are you avoiding him why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why

He doesn't like it when you avoid him.

Don't avoid him, please.

You're taking longer, more inconvenient routes, if only to steer clear of the path he takes. Your friends guard around you in the cafeteria, and days turn to weeks, and Kalim is...okay.

He's okay.

(Jamil finds him sobbing in his sheets in the middle of the night, crying out your name.)

He's okay when he sees you gradually brightening up again. He's okay when he finds you're slowly talking to him again, but not treating him like a friend. He's super okay and totally fine when he sees you spending more and more of your time with Deuce alone, just the two of you. And he's great when he notices the boy's blushing, awkward movements, similar to what you used to do in Kalim's presence.

Come back to him please Y/N please please please come back why won't you come back he's your best friend right why won't you come back Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N

"Do you like Y/N?"

Kalim's feet are swinging off the edge of the balcony as he leans back on his arms. His gaze stays on the fountain in the middle of the dormitory, clearly lost in thought, before being brought back by Jamil's question. He doesn't need to think twice about his answer. "Of course! They're my best friend too, so it's a little upsetting that they're not hanging out with me anymore."

"No." Jamil rolls his eyes. "More than a friend."

"I don't think so."

"Really?"

Kalim nods.

(It's okay that he wants to be your best friend, your only friend, right?)

"Kalim, let's get this straight, okay? I don't want to see you sulking anymore. You're in love with Y/N." Jamil puts both hands on Kalim's shoulders, stooping a little lower to look him in the eye. "Do you want to be with Y/N all the time? Do you want to touch them? Kiss them, maybe? Do you feel annoyed when you see them with other people? Do you hate the thought of a future without them by your side, like you can't even stand it? Kalim, yes or no, are you in love with Y/N?"

Kalim feels like he's just been dunked in a vat of ice water.

"I love them that way?" he asks softly.

Jamil shakes him lightly. "Imagine you saw Deuce kissing the—"

Oh. Okay. So he loves you after all.

"Kalim!"

He never even noticed the heavy rain that suddenly started after Jamil said those words. It's his magic; he can feel it, but Oasis Maker is out of his control, and he doesn't feel like stopping it. "Sorry Jamil, I just, I can't imagine it." He's crying, why is he crying? Is it because he hates the thought so much that it makes him want to—

You wouldn't kiss Deuce no no you wouldn't you wouldn't why would you kiss him do you like him does he like you have you moved on do you not love Kalim anymore please love love love love love why would you do that don't abandon him he loves you too so please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

"Jamil?" Kalim holds onto his retainer's wrists. "Do you think...Y/N still loves me?"

"I don't know, Kalim."

"If they don't love me anymore," Kalim smiles, it's a little desperate, but mostly, it's pained. The corners of his lips twitch as his grip on Jamil's wrists tightens. "Will you help them remember how much they love me?”

[cupids-chamber]

— " 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 " | Listen to this on loop for full experience.... ★. Content tags/warnings , 1.1k+ words, gender neutral reader, technically everyone x reader (including staff/not so much RSA), can be seen as both platonic and romantic, angst, mentions of food/eating less (reader no longer has an appetite), reader is tired, reader is having a really bad day, reminder: I haven't written in awhile.

Today was a difficult day, many days have challenged you in so many different ways, yet a keen feeling of gloominess had washed over you this particular morning. Your alarm rang blankly into the silent room, you let out a groan of displeasure as you sat up on your bed, staring blankly at the wall feeling a churn in your gut. The curtains were closed, a small ray of light shone through the empty space between your window and the fabric of the curtain; you took a moment to sit and stretch. 

Mentally you cursed yourself, reaching a hand to shut off your phone alarm. Perhaps it was a bad idea staying up late after all, yet how could you resist the urge to finish that new Twisted Wonderland fanfic you found on AO3 recently; The reader resonated deeply with you, and the author's writing was just what you needed. Your eyes stung, you felt like banging your head into your headboard just to stop it from ringing and aching, not to mention you could practically feel the weight of your eyebags.—had you known your body would behave in such a way, you'd have slept at least a bit earlier—Well that's what you're saying now at least, you knew you'd probably repeat the same mistake tonight if another storyline enraptured you just as much as the previous did. 

You began standing up, your whole body woozy from the lack of sleep, you found yourself stumbling over something you left on the floor. You recall how tired you were, too done with the day to be bothered to pick it back up. You walked right past it, 'today was going to end badly' you thought to yourself, since your morning had been a dead giveaway. 

You pocketed some random snack, as breakfast; Running a bit later as per usual. You'd lie to yourself, saying that you'd get up a bit earlier tomorrow but you knew for a fact that unless a miracle happened, you wouldn't. 

The rest of the day was but the same routine, you felt tired all throughout your morning classes, on edge. You would've fallen asleep but you tried to keep your eyes open, as your professor was going over some important project intel that you really didn't want to miss—though you were only half understanding what they were saying—their words felt like gibberish for your only half-functioning brain.

Lunch felt like a chore, despite it usually feeling like a break. You felt like something bad was definitely going to happen, which made you feel anxious; The churn in your gut made it difficult to eat, chew, or drink. Your lunches weren't all that gigantic, as you disliked the feeling of being bloated, yet you barely could find it in yourself to eat. You took a deep breath, you logged into tumblr, perhaps one of your favorite fanfic writers uploaded something new? Anything to distract this heavy mind of yours. 

You checked @kalims page first, they hadn't uploaded in a while—It's been a couple days since they've posted; you figured they'd be busy with school… You pondered on the following page for a while, checking @spadecentral‘s blog, they were far more active then most other blogs you’ve been following and their soft and sweet writings was perhaps just what you needed in this tim—They haven’t uploaded in a while as well? You looked at your screen, maybe everyone was just busy with their finals and/or finishing up midterms at this time. 

You hummed, scrolling frantically through your follows, you sighed softly, maybe today wasn't the day to read fluff, you started checking yandere blogs; ‘nothing like obsessive men to calm you down’ you thought as you clicked on @writingforatwistedworld‘s blog, you scrolled down.. 

‘Weird, nothing new..’, it was as if the whole world had conspired against you today, you took a sigh, perhaps @honey-milk-depresso had uploaded something new on her art blog, after all their wholesome tsundere ship art was just the perfect source of serotonin—And if you were just a bit lucky, perhaps she’s uploaded writing onto her main blog an—Oh.. She hasn’t uploaded either?..  

Your brows furrowed letting out a tired sigh, maybe you should just listen to some music. ‘How bad could this day possibly go?’—you consoled yourself with those words, as you tried finishing up at least a small portion of your meal. 

You forced yourself to clean up and change, crashing onto your bed afterwards. It always felt softer on these sorts of days. Like a welcoming warm embrace, that you didn't want to leave. You took a few moments to vent your stress onto one of your poor pillows, before getting nice and cozy with your warm blankets. 

You laid down on your bed, burying yourself in the blankets, as you grabbed your device from near you, turning the brightness to the lowest possible setting, perhaps you should finish your general tasks on Twst before you take a nap.. 

10 minutes passed and you let out a groan, where did the app go? You never heard of an app disappearing randomly; perhaps you miss-clicked and hid it by accident? A few minutes passed, and you still couldn't find the Twisted Wonderland app, you desperately opened up your computer.. Typing in panic, and yet the official website was gone as well—perhaps it’s just going through some weird update?—Maybe this was only happening to certain servers. You logged into tumblr once again, checking your mutuals profiles and.. some of them were gone? Most of the blogs had nothing from Twisted Wonderland left, the tumblr tags for Twst were completely empty. 

Two hours had only passed and your panic grew, it was odd. You scrolled through your mutual’s blogs for minutes on end hoping to find one post about the game which put a smile on your face on the daily... Yet none... You went on AO3 and even checked other websites which you'd only go to out of sheer desperation for content... Yet nothing...  

You took deep breaths, your breathing pacing as you scrolled till your fingers began to sting from pressure and stress.. Your back arched, as you stared at the screen with an intense expression, desperately tapping away…  finally you entered the app store hoping this was a weird dream or update, like those movies and manga’s and yet.. the app was gone. No mention of it.

You couldn’t even trace a single picture of the game down, not even on Pinterest where everything deleted was still sometimes somehow available. 

'Were you crying? You couldn't quite tell, you felt tired, perhaps this fictional world was just something you created as an escape, yet you didn't think you'd get this attached to some characters on a screen, and now that's it's all gone you feel... kind of.. empty.' 

‘Maybe it was all just a fragment of your imagination…’

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[waratah-vroom]

Silly Season (ln4)

Liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 700,284 others yourusername: Oh Canada, you have my heart

lilymhe: Of course you'd post food over race content 😂

“And here we have former F2 champion and the first Williams' driver to win a race since Pastor Maldonado-” you heard Ted call your name as the camera man shoved his lens in your face. “Have a second to talk?”

“Always for you, Ted,” you put on your sparkliest smile for the camera and leant against the railing outside the hospitality building you had been seconds away from entering.

“You and Alex did well in qualifying, did that send some well needed morale throughout the team?”

“P6 and P10. Not too bad, eh? Of course doing well in quali is always a mood boost.”

“While I have you I have to ask about Lewis' contract negotiations.”

You groaned, “you were doing so well, Ted!” 

This particular topic had followed you since you’d joined the Mercedes Junior team alongside George in 2017. You became their test driver in 2019 with all eyes watching as you became the first female driver to win the F2 championship. George had been promised an eventual Mercedes seat first and you were happy to wait your turn at Williams. 

George hadn’t exactly been thrilled as he watched you accomplish more with the midfield team than he had ever been able to; scoring five podiums and one win since you’d joined the team three seasons ago.

“I know, I know, but the rumour around the paddock is that you’re next in line for the Mercedes seat when Lewis retires.”

“If Lewis retires. And I don’t think he will.” Toto had come to you as soon as they had started contract negotiations. He’d told you flat out that they wanted to keep the former world champion on the team.

“So there’s no plans for you to reunite with your former team mate?”

“Not that I’m aware, no. Alex and I work well together and I’m quite happy with how things are going. We won a race last year, had a few podiums-”

“And the season’s been looking good this year. You’ve gotten points in every race so far.”

“I know! In a Williams!”

“In a Williams!” Suddenly, Ted did what you’d hope he wouldn’t and noticed where you were standing. “I know we’ve been talking about a move to Mercedes, but how about a move to McLaren?”

The cameraman zoomed out to show you leaning against the railing outside McLaren hospitality.

“Would you believe it if I told you they’re the only team that has the name brand Wagon Wheels?”

It didn’t seem like he believed you. “You’ve come all the way to McLaren for biscuits?”

“Not just biscuits, Ted. Wagon Wheels. Plus I need to rub my three hundredths of a second lead in Lando’s face.”

“A true quality of a good sportswoman.” He could sense you were getting fidgety as you kept checking your watch, so like a professional he began to wrap it up. “Lovely talking to you as always, I’ll leave you to your Wagon Wheels.”

“If I see you later I’ll sneak you one,” you grinned as you finally slipped away to enter the building.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“What took you so long? I saw you outside ten minutes ago.” He’d tossed his phone on the couch beside him as soon as you’d stepped foot into his room, shrugging off your spray jacket. He held his arms out wide, a silent signal for you to move into his reach, which you happily did as his hands found rest on your waist.

“Got caught talking to Ted about my move to Mercedes,” your words were mumbled through a mouthful of biscuit and marshmallow. You hadn’t been lying about the Wagon Wheels. 

He pulled you forward until your knees hit the couch, forcing you onto his lap. “When did that happen?” 

Licking chocolate off your lips you smirked, “It didn’t. Hi baby,” you slung your arms over his shoulders and his cold hands slipped beneath your tee-shirt.

“I missed you today.”

“You saw me in the pit lane an hour ago.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. I missed this,” he squeezed the flesh on your hips, his lips catching the underside of your jaw when you moved your head back. “You coming to my room tonight?”

“I dunno,” you fiddled with the drawstrings on his hoodie, twisting them around you finger. “Got a big race to prepare for tomorrow. Gotta keep my lead.”

You knew you should sleep alone before the race and get the full eight hours your coach was always talking about, but this man had his fingers wrapped around your heart and you knew it wouldn’t take much of his pleading or puppy dog eyes to end up in the same bed.

“Baby,” his little whine was always the same when he wasn’t getting his way, and you hated to admit it was adorable. And hard to turn down.

“We’re not having sex.”

He nodded, “just cuddling. I’ll even come to your room.”

“You say that but we’ll get in bed and you’ll try something,” you knew from experience. It’d happened before and all the thoughts about sleep and rest went out of your head the second he had his head between your thighs.

“I won’t, I swear. I’ll shower before I come over, I still have those pictures-”

“Lando,” you didn’t need to be reminded of the photos hidden away behind a passcode on Snapchat.

“Pretty please? I won’t even say anything if you want to watch that show you like.”

“You wanna watch Never Have I Ever?”

“No,” he drew out the syllable and you could feel him fidget beneath you. “But I’ll sit next to you and play on my phone while you watch it.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you,” it came out sarcastically but he just grinned, pressing his lips against your own.

“Do you think we have time for a-”

“Do not even think of finishing that question," you glared at him as he had the audacity to pout, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as his fingers crept up to tug on the hook of your bra. "You have ten minutes."

part 2 | read more of my writing here.

Made to order for a sweet anon for my perfume collection xx

ﾟ｡ ⋆ mags' radio: Pls join me in my fantasy of williams being a midfield team. I really love the idea of George being jealous that reader has been able to achieve more in a Williams than he ever was. Anyway, I said that I had a bigger backstory for driver!reader and lando, so if you like this let me know and I might write the beginning of there relationship/ them revealing it to the grid. Going to do a part 2/soft launch insta series for them next! ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

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