#makes it feel like the end messaging here is “what they had wasn't good enough for me.”

[onlythemad1s]

Unsolicited Good Omens 2 Thoughts

Last week I flipped out over the ending of GO2, and after I was finished crying on the bathroom floor, I started trying to suss out exactly - specifically - why the ending made me feel so awful. And honestly, part and parcel of it was some of the posts I was seeing online.

I thought I would be met with more of a mixed consensus about the whole thing, but people seemed generally happy (even though there's no absolute guarantee of third season yet), and I just -

Did. Not. Get. It.

I've been saying for the last four years that the original miniseries is probably the most life-affirming thing that I've ever seen, and I was wary of a follow-up because I felt that things were wrapped up perfectly the first time around, people who still cry "queerbaiting" be damned (seriously, get fucked). And after those final scenes and the reception they got, I felt genuinely terrible. I'd known about Every, so it wasn't the kiss-that was all well and good.

And then I came to.

It hurt deeply to feel that all I was hearing (via action) was "I would rather have them potentially broken up forever for that kiss, than happily dining at the Ritz without it." In my anger, my worst faith interpretation was "Well, as long as we can stick it to the straights that they were Queer All Along, right?"

I headcanon our Ineffables broadly, and I've always kind of loved how most of those broad interpretations still manage to fit very neatly into the established canon, but I also felt like what they had on screen was such a picture perfect representation of how I and many others have expressed wanting to live and love and all of that soft shit.

I don't think S2 changes too much of how I feel about that representation (now that I've had time to think over it).

But -

Something in me still feels quite angry that S1 ended with Crowley and Aziraphale together, no kiss, and that S2 ended with them broken up after The Kiss...and so many people seem to prefer that, or at least feel that the stakes of that HEA have been worth it.

[ssahotchnerr]

girl i am BEGGING you to write a hotch story with his beard and reader doesnt know he has it because he never told her and when he comes back shes more in love with him!!! you can take it any direction you want

off guard

hehehe 🤭 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, heavy suggestiveness, fluff and bearded aaron 😵‍💫<3

after what felt like forever, came the long awaited knock on the door.

"finally." you breathed out as you threw the door open, immediately tucking yourself into aaron's chest and wrapping your arms around his middle.

the longer he was in your hold, the more you tightened your arms - as if you would blink and he'd be right back in pakistan, miles and miles away from you yet again.

it was late, or early depending on how you looked at it. the moment you received the message aaron was back in the states - prematurely and under urgent circumstances - you had insisted the second he had wrapped up, no matter the time, to come directly and strictly to your apartment.

lucky for you, he had already planned on doing so regardless.

"god i missed you." aaron sighed out in relief just as much as you, the empty void in his heart filling at last, making him feel whole again.

he had spent countless nights fantasizing of you being in his arms, the feeling near and distant simultaneously, as if he could reach out and grasp it. for the first month overseas, he had difficulty sleeping even, so used to sleeping beside you - the familiar weight of you laid on him, matching his breathing to yours, or the fact you were simply near.

the longing for you had been torturous. and at last here you were, right where you belonged.

"i almost can't believe it," you mumbled into his t-shirt, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "five months was too long. too, too long."

you loosened your hold, just enough to peer up at him, just now getting a look at him. however, you found yourself taken aback, any eased, impending cries halting at once.

it was your aaron - your loving, wonderful aaron - staring back at you, but it didn't look like him.

his hair was longer, his body a bit more lean, but the major difference; a beard graced his face.

you've seen aaron with some stubble - not shaving during a weekend off, or his occasional five-o-clock shadow. but that was the result of a mere few days. this was months in the making, and it wasn't unwelcome in the slightest.

endless words could describe the sight before you, but your mind and mouth had run both dry. it was hot, to put it bluntly.

"jack hates it too." aaron admitted as his hands fell to your waist - not daring to part contact, mistaking your hesitancy for dislike. "i was going to shave it, but you did say to come right over-"

"hey- no." you blurted out, blinking up at him. "who said i hated it?"

his eyebrows furrowed, surprised. "you don't?"

"absolutely not," you insisted, looking almost offended at the proposition. you touched his cheek, feeling the coarse hair under your soft fingertips and igniting something deep within you. "quite the opposite, actually."

"really?" a pleased smirk formed on his face, his eyes darkly intrigued and amused.

"just when i thought you couldn't get more attractive." you smirked right back, toying with his shirt. "trust me, i like it more than you know."

aaron's fingers dug into your hips, backing you into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind with his foot.

"please tell me you have tomorrow off, because you won't be stepping outside this apartment if i can help it." you pleaded, your voice coming out as an eager whine.

"well, the team is to be evaluated by the senate committee, hearing date pending. so for the foreseeable future," aaron bit down on his bottom lip lightly, his eyes locked on yours. "i'm all yours."

"good. mainly because i missed you, but that," you eyed his beard again, a heavy breath escaping you. the ends of your lips quirked up into a mischievous smile, and aaron's lips found yours hungrily. as he frantically continued to back you towards the direction of your bedroom, you mumbled into his lips. "we can have fun with that."

[ponderingmoonlight]

Geto being forced to kiss you during a mission but shamelessly making out with you instead

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: It was an easy mission like many others before. Get in, find the suspect, free the innocent. Well, if it wasn't for none other than Geto Suguru who has to play your boyfriend. If it wasn't for that fateful situation that forces you into a heated kiss.

Warnings: I swear this is a dream I had tonight and I HAD to write it down with Geto being the main character lol, no smut but it's getting a little heated y'all, enjoy

You’ve been assigned to many missions before, but this one is different. It’s not the mission itself - that’s pretty standard. Blend in, gather the information needed, free their hostages and get out. No, what makes this different is who you’re paired with.

Geto Suguru.

It’s not that you dislike Suguru. Quite the opposite, really. He’s intelligent, powerful, and intimidatingly good-looking. To be honest, you didn’t really get the chance to talk a lot with him. You’ve met him a few months ago at a party, innocently meeting his gaze for the first time. Since then, you wrote a few messages back on forth without him really kicking off a conversation with you himself.

Working so closely with him? That’s a whole different challenge.

You glance over at him as the two of you walk down a crowded street, playing the part of casual tourists. He’s dressed casually, his black hair tied up in its usual bun, dark sunglasses resting on his face. His tall frame and handsome face draw some attention, but not enough to arouse suspicion. Still, you’re hyper-aware of his presence, every step synchronized with his, every breath you take feels too loud beside him.

“You alright?” Suguru questions, his voice smooth as ever, but there’s a hint of amusement hidden behind it.

You realize you’ve been staring a little too long. Again.

“Yeah, fine,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Just focused.”

“Good,” he comments, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“We can’t afford any distractions today.”

It’s funny he should say that, given that he’s been the biggest distraction for you all day.

The two of you are currently undercover in the heart of Tokyo, tasked with infiltrating a high-profile gathering where some curses are believed to be in league with a dangerous rogue sorcerer. You’re supposed to act like a couple - just a pair of normal people attending a party, gathering information without raising any alarms. Simple enough.

Except pretending to be a couple with Geto Suguru isn’t as easy as it sounds.

The party venue is just up ahead, a high-end rooftop lounge that glows with expensive lights and laughter spilling out into the cool evening air. You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your dress as you try to mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming. You’ve done plenty of undercover work before, but never one so… intimate.

As if sensing your tension, Suguru places a hand lightly on the small of your back, guiding you toward the entrance. The touch sends a jolt through you, far too electrifying for something so casual. You hope he doesn’t notice the silly reaction of your body, how his touch alone sends shivers down your spine.

“We’ll get in, blend, and be out of here before anyone knows we’re even involved,” he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear it sends another shiver down your spine.

“Just stay close to me.”

You nod, your pulse quickening despite yourself.

“Got it.”

The two of you approach the entrance, and after a quick flash of the fake invitations, you’re in. The lounge is just as extravagant as you expected: soft golden lights, chandeliers glinting like diamonds, and elegantly dressed people sipping on expensive drinks.

The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and perfume, a faint buzz of conversation filling the room. You can feel the tension already, a subtle undercurrent that tells you something’s off. The rogue sorcerer could be anywhere in the crowd, and the curses could be anyone. You can’t afford to relax for even a second.

Suguru’s hand doesn’t leave your back as he leads you through the room, guiding you with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before. You find a spot near the back, close to the open bar, where you can observe without being too obvious.

“They’re here somewhere,” Suguru mumbles, his eyes scanning the crowd behind his sunglasses.

You nod in agreement, your gaze sweeping over the guests. You can feel eyes on you too, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Just regular party-goers glancing at the attractive couple standing together, unaware of what you and Suguru are really here for.

Just as you start to relax, a small group of men enters from a side door, catching your attention. One of them, in particular, stands out. He’s dressed sharply, his dark hair slicked back, a predatory gleam in his eyes. You don’t need to double-check him, your palms already starting to sweat.

That’s him. The rogue sorcerer. The man you’ve been searching for.

Suguru notices him too, his posture tensing slightly.

“That’s our target,” he mutters under his breath.

You nod subtly, trying to remain casual, but the moment the sorcerer’s eyes land on you and Suguru, they narrow. He recognizes something. Or maybe it’s just paranoia. Either way, the tension in the air spikes.

“He’s watching us,” you whisper, your pulse quickening.

“Act natural,” Suguru says, his voice low, steady.

He slides his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Just follow my lead.”

Your heart pounds at the sudden closeness. His hand is warm on your waist, his body pressed against yours in a way that’s far too intimate for what should be a simple undercover mission. But you force yourself to relax, slipping into the role.

The sorcerer is still watching, his eyes flicking between the two of you with suspicion.

Suguru leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“We need to do something to throw him off. He’s getting suspicious.”

You swallow hard, nodding slightly. The last thing you want to do is causing a scene and risking the lives of countless innocent people.

“What do you suggest?”

There’s a pause, just long enough for you to notice the way his gaze switching back and forth between your lips and eyes. No, he can’t really mean this, right? You, kissing Suguru Geto?

But his eyes aren’t joking around. Not the slightest bit.

“We’re going to have to make this look real,” he continues, voice low and serious.

Before you can ask one more time what he means, his hand slides up to cup your cheek, turning your face toward his.

Your breath catches in your throat as he tilts your chin up, his dark eyes locking onto yours. There’s no time to question it, no time to think. His lips are on yours before you can even process what’s happening.

It’s soft at first, just a brush of his mouth against yours, gentle and controlled. It’s meant to be quick, just enough to make it seem real. But then something shifts. The pressure deepens, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

You can’t help the soft gasp that escapes you as his other hand tightens on your waist, his body pressing more firmly against yours. What started as a brief kiss to maintain your cover quickly spirals into something else entirely. The kiss grows heated, his lips moving against yours with a hunger you hadn’t expected.

Your hands move on instinct, holding onto the back of his neck as you lean into him, literally fall against him.

You should pull away. The mission. The rogue sorcerer. You can’t afford to be distracted. This is nothing but a cover-up, after all. But the kiss… it’s overwhelming. Suguru’s lips are firm, his breath hot against your skin as he deepens the kiss, coaxing a response from you that you can’t hold back.

The world around you fades. There’s no party, no rogue sorcerer, no mission. There’s just the heat between the two of you, the press of his body against yours, the way his lips seem to know exactly how to pull you under.

Your pulse races, your mind going hazy as the kiss stretches on longer than it should. There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his mouth moves against yours. It’s not about the mission anymore. This is something else entirely. Something raw, electric. Something you only allow yourself to dream of.

His tongue brushes against your lower lip, and without thinking, you part your lips, letting him in. The kiss becomes even more intense, your bodies pressed so close you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His hand moves from your neck, tangling in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer, his breath mixing with yours as the kiss turns downright needy.

A soft sound escapes you, half gasp, half moan, and you feel Suguru’s grip tighten in response. He’s losing control too. The realization sends a thrill through you, the idea that Geto Suguru, the calm, composed and always in control force of a man, could be folding because of you.

But then, just as suddenly as it started, he pulls away. The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless, your lips swollen, your heart racing.

Suguru’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his dark eyes staring into yours, wide with something unspoken. His hand lingers on your waist for a moment longer before he finally lets go, stepping back, his expression unreadable.

You blink, trying to clear the haze from your mind, trying to remember where you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, your mind desperately fighting for control while your body still griefs the cold he left behind.

The rogue sorcerer. The mission.

You quickly glance around, realizing the sorcerer is no longer watching. He must have lost interest, convinced by the display. You breathe a sigh of relief, but the tension between you and Suguru remains thick, heavy.

“That… worked,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Suguru nods, but his eyes are still on you, dark and intense.

“Yeah. It worked.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you crackling with something unsaid, something neither of you is quite ready to acknowledge.

But the mission isn’t over yet. You have a job to do, and now, more than ever, you need to stay focused.

Suguru clears his throat, straightening his posture, slipping effortlessly back into his composed persona.

“We should keep moving. We still have to find out what their plan is.”

You nod, trying to steady your racing heart as you follow him through the crowd. But even as you focus on the task at hand, you can still feel the lingering heat of his kiss, the way his lips felt against yours, the way your body reacted to his touch.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@sugu-love @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa @cupcaketeddybehr @ryumurin

[ierr]

❥# — 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 fluff, softie!bakugo, kissing

☆ — 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 bakugo can’t sleep without your touches

❣︎ — 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 heyoooo, I had this idea to write a cute lil fic about bakugo :). I’m slowly starting to write for different anime so if you have any in mind let me know!. enjoy the story.

“ 𝖳𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖢𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 “ 𝖪𝖠𝖳𝖲𝖴𝖪𝖨 𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

❤︎︎︎# — 𝖡𝖠𝖪𝖴𝖦𝖮 It was strange that katsuki suddenly texted you, there was something probably going on but you didn't wanna assume, so you got up from bed to walk to the boys side of the dorm. it was dark and quiet considering everyone was sleep, making it to his door. you softly knocked against the wood, not even a minute he swings It open, he looked grumpy. "you know I can get in trouble right?." he rolled his eyes, "shut up stupid and come in." you gave a small chuckled, walking into his door leaning up to peck his lips, shutting the door behind you both. "you look grumpy. what's wrong?." he groaned, "I already told you nothing is wrong." — "then why am I here?." you raised a brow going to sit on his bed who looked away, he was quiet. "kat?." again he grumbled. was there something he didn't wanna say?. "katsuki bakugo." you squinted your eyes towards him who groaned finally looking back up to you, "I jus missed you.." he mumbled but you heard him, smiling softly. when he didn't get an answer, he just seen you pat the spot on the bed, he didn't complain, getting into his bed cuddling with you.

he looked flustered. "you miss me?." he snarled, "I'm not repeating myself you idiot." — "never told you to." you teased with a chuckle kissing his nose, you always loved moments like this, katsuki letting his guard down and being calm as you both cuddle with eachother in bed.. though he is a hot head he was yours. in reality, he didn't want to admit that your touches and warmth gave him comfort— comfortable enough to sleep peacefully, he was a fool for affection— but just from you. you were surprised at first that katsuki let you touch him going beyond playing his hair and kissing him considering he hates being touched but it's different when you're the one touching him. your hands are so warm and soft against his skin, the way you would play with his hair, or cuddle him, kiss him. it showed a complete different side of him. he sighed softly feeling your fingers in his hair messaging his scalp as he held you close, "you're such a baby." you scoffed hearing him mumble a small shut up with a pinch to the waist, "If you wanted to cuddle you could've said that~." again he pinched you but on your stomach, a bit harder this time, flinching from the stinging pain."shut up and sleep." he's one to talk. you got woken up from your sleep.

you rolled your eyes snickering, "you're one to talk tough guy. you woke me up." you pouted, was having a good ole dream. katsuki mumbled a small, "sorry." something that was rarely ever said but you could tell he was he getting sleepy, his breaths were going shallow as his body relaxed more into your arms, but before he could let his eyes betray him. he lifted his head to look up at you, your beautiful face..he leaned a bit with a small grin. “you look pretty." you tilted your head with a small smile feeling your heart flutter, "I do?." he hummed, "yeah.." he whispered back before leaning in close to take your lips with his. it was a small and gentle kiss, sighing in relief that his night can finally end. after a few seconds he broke apart the kiss cuddling against your neck finally letting sleep take over. seeing this side of bakugo really made your love for him grow stronger, he wasn't the same kid you knew since middle. he's grown. and you're proud of him for that. for a few minutes that went by of playing with his hair and listening to his soft snores sleep soon took over you as well.

[trying-harder-then-u]

Johnny's Daddy

Johnny has been my friend since forever, and while we grew apart in High school, we would always make sure to comfort each other through all the tough times. He helped me with my breakup, and I helped him when he lost his job.

Johnny was always on the smaller side; Puberty Hit never really got to him, and while he never got the muscles he wanted, he eventually became quite happy with his body and my numerous numerous offers to wing man him and help him get a girl were always turned down.

Earlier today, my phone pinged while I was at work. Johnny had messaged me:

"Hey man, could you come to my place after work?"

"Sure? What do you need?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

Me and Johnny had always been open and clear without ever really needing to talk outside of texts, so I thought this must be something big if he wanted to talk about it at his place, so after work finished up, I got in my car and drove to his apartment in the city. After a good 50 minutes of driving through the winding roads, I finally arrived.

As I opened the door, he came and hugged me. "How was the drive?" "Nothing special, just some traffic jams and that stuff," I responded. For the first few hours, we just hung out talking about life and playing games before I finally asked why he wanted me here: "Well, I wanted to tell you I was gay." he blushed as he said it, "Damn man, thanks for telling me; I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me, do you want to go to a gay bar or  something?"He shook his head at my question: "You don't understand; I've been trying to get a boyfriend for awhile now, but it never works out, and I wanted to ask you if...." "I'm sorry, man," I interjected. "I love you like a brother, but I don't feel the same way about you." "Okay, sorry, I hope we can still be friends," Both of us laughed awkwardly at the incident, but decided to hang out some more. At about 6, we were both getting hungry, so he ordered a pizza, and he got up to grab us a drink. I heard what sounded like pills rattling in the kitchen before he returned with some beers, caps removed. "Thanks, man," I said as he handed me one. Taking a sip, I thought it tasted funny, but I just shrugged it off as the pizzas had just arrived and i was starving.

As we ate and played video games, it became latter and latter, and the beers piled up, each tasting stranger, then the last. At some point, my mind started to became fuzzy. "Ugh, I don't feel good," i said. "You don't look good either. Maybe you should just sleep here for the  night."Johnny commented, Too tired to argue, I ended up on his couch and fell asleep quickly as he went back to the room. "You'll be fine; I bet you feel like a new man tomorrow morning," he called as he closed the door.

That night, as I shuddered in my sleep, my body began to change, moving around as my stature grew, stretching from 5 feet 8 to 6,2. My flab melted away as my skin tightened around new abs that began to push out one by one, and calves became strengthened along with arm muscles. My round face gained structure as a square jaw and clear skin gave my face a new, more attractive look. But it wasn't just my body changing; my dreams began to shift; thoughts that I used to have about women became directed towards Johnny; as I dreamed of dominating and using him, the apartments that we each had eventually became one, just as my place had his boyfriend cemented, and soon I was picturing him submitting to me every night. As these dreams peaked, I felt my dick pulse, lines of cum shooting out as my rock-hard cock lengthened, growing longer and longer inside my underwear from it's normal 4 inches to a monstrous 9, and my boxers turning to briefs as they were soaked in my semen. The transformation was over, and my new place in the world was confirmed.

The next morning, Johnny smirked as he walked in to be greeted by me staring at him in nothing but my briefs. "I have a job for you, boy; I need some services," I commanded, His dick jumped up, and his body shuddered as he moved towards me. All memories of my past life disappeared as he wrapped his lips around my dick; all that mattered was teaching my boyfriend his place.

[mantou-rin]

The moment the boys realise they are head over heels for you

Characters: Kenma, Sugawara, Yaku

A/N: The amount of things I am able to come up with while at work should be studied. As usual not proofread I am sorry but I hope you like the silly thoughts that go through my head on a daily basis.

KENMA

Kenma couldn't help but look up from his game to stare at you.

You were at the other end of the classroom talking with a few of your classmates. Your voice wasn't exactly loud, but your presence was more than enough to catch his attention. Kenma admired the way you spoke and the way your face lit up everytime someone said something interesting. You weren't exactly an extrovert, but you had a bubbly and bright personality, and often got along well with pretty much anyone. 

Kenma kind of envied you for that. Not that he was the kind to draw attention to himself, but being able to comfortably talk with people sometimes seemed nice. 

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of him looking at you, and you turned to give him a smile while waving towards him. He instantly panicked, and quickly turned his attention back to his game console, trying his best to calm his rapidly beating heart. 

He wasn't sure for the longest time about this feeling he had towards you. Was it fascination or just admiration, or was it something more than that. To him, you seemed so interesting, almost as if he wanted to study - no, get to know you better. His racing heart finally confirmed it as a crush, but how does he even begin to ask you out? 

“Kenma”

He nearly jumped when he heard that familiar voice of yours. Slowly he put down his console and directed his attention to you. You were standing next to his desk, the sunlight hitting your face gave you the prettiest glow he had ever seen. 

It was real, he wanted to get closer to you, he wanted to understand everything about you. 

“There's a new cat cafe that just opened, would you like to go there together? I hope you don't mind that it'll just be the two of us.”

Two of us? Did he hear that correctly? Of course he wouldn't mind, if anything he was more than happy that it was just the two of you.  

“Mhm.” Came his silent reply, to which you happily told him that you’ll message him the details when you get home. 

Turns out that your feelings for him were mutual as well. 

SUGAWARA

Suga was not having a good day right now. He felt he didn't do a great job at practice just now and now he couldn't get rid of the constant worry that his team would be disappointed in him. For the most part, he knew the Karasuno boys would never be upset with him, but what if today it was different. 

Before he left just now, Daichi had already told him to cheer up and not think about it, but he just couldn't help himself. He wished he wasn't the kind to mull over his mistakes over and over, but unfortunately, he wasn't that kind of person. 

He really wanted to call you right now. He often told you how you were his comfort after a long day, and he felt that he really needed you today. He was about to make the call when he realised that you told him that you were going out to run some errands that night. 

Right. It wasn't polite to disturb someone when they were busy.  Suga figured to simply drop you a text instead, the both of you could talk about it later tonight.

Sighing, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked up at the sky. It was so quiet and calm, contrary to whatever his mind was right now - noisy and chaotic. 

“Suga!” He heard someone call from behind him. 

Hang on. That voice was familiar, one that he has heard many times, there was no way it was - 

You.

Suga wasn't sure why he nearly cried when he saw you, heck he wasn't even sure why you suddenly showed up. 

“Sorry if I’m a little late, but I saw your message and figured that I should come right away. Also sorry I couldn't get something better, but I got you some ice cream from the convenience store on the way here.”

Suga panicked a little, he worried that his message to you came off as something that needed immediate attention, that wasn't what he intended for it to be, although now that he saw you the chaos that was in his mind just now seemed to have died down. 

“Eh, I thought you had to run errands? Sorry if I bothered you.” 

“I can always go another day, besides, you having a bad day is something more important than the groceries I have to buy.” 

Suga wasn't aware, but he was sure he let a tear slip out of his eye when he felt your hands reaching towards him to wipe them away. He never noticed because he was always the one doing the comforting, but right now with you next to him assuring him that everything was going to be alright, his mind became a reflection of the night sky - calm and quiet.

“I'll go run your errands with you tomorrow, and will you allow me to bring you out for dinner afterwards?” 

YAKU

Yaku was glad you decided to join the volleyball team as a manager. Even though the two of you were childhood friends (and neighbours), any extra minute he got to spend with you meant a lot to him. 

You were attentive and smart, always promptly taking care of the team’s needs and giving out advice as needed. Your presence alone sometimes helped boost the team’s morale. 

Water was running low? You had already prepared new bottles for the boys long ago before they even noticed they were running out. 

There was a spot on the court that seemed a little slippery? The next thing Yaku knew you were ready to swoop in with the mop to clean it up. 

The team needed extra balls for practice? There was nothing to worry about because you would have a new basket of volleyballs ready by the side.  

You were talking to Yaku halfway after practice when you excused yourself to find the coach for something. Yaku couldn't help but glance over at the extra bag he had seen you carrying around recently. You happened to leave it open, and Yaku caught sight of a pair of knee guards - specifically the ones he was using. Yaku didn't want to peek, but he was too curious as to why you had that in your bag. He pried the bag open slightly and saw a towel as well as a pouch filled with first aid supplies. 

Perhaps you were playing volleyball too? 

When you came back, Yaku asked if you started playing volleyball too, referencing the items he saw in your bag. 

“Ah, no it's just emergency stuff in case you get injured. I've seen you getting many new bruises because of practice so I wanted to be ready just in case.” You replied softly, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you had been found out. 

Yaku felt his heart do about a thousand backflips. He was always under the impression that you cared for each team member equally, but now knowing that you put in a little more effort to look out for him made him somewhat flustered. 

“Ah, thank you.” Was the only thing he could splutter out.

There was a brief silence before he mustered up his courage to speak again.

“Would you like to go get dinner together after practice tomorrow?”

[sourbinnie]

☆ regrets & replacements ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angstttt (is all i know how to do) ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> did he actually forget? or did someone make him forget? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

a/n -> i'm gonna use the same name for the girl best friend and it's soohee, i'm sorry if that's your name babes. to the person who sent me this request, babe i'll try making a happy ending i promise (even if this is just so sad lmaooo)

maknae line

chan ✉

it wasn't weird to you that he wasn't the first person to say "happy birthday" to you that morning. he had always been busy especially in comeback season, you weren't mad, just a bit disappointed. the messages started flooding in as you looked at your phone trying to respond to everything. as the hours passed and no chan messages, no appearances at your front door and definitely no calls, you were starting to feel a bit uneasy.

you thought maybe he was planning a surprise? maybe you had to be more patient. or maybe he actually forgot and you were just waiting for nothing. either way the thoughts left your head as soon as you heard the phone ring and it was a video call from minho.

"happy birthday (y/n)!" the boys cheered and they even had a cake with them. it made you feel ten times better knowing they cared so much but it still made you wanna cry not seeing chan there, it just felt wrong. "i'm sorry we couldn't say this earlier, we were busy with practice and i'm sure your boyfriend will be there at any minute." minho said.

"i hope so, he still hasn't said anything." you responded and they all looked confused as hell. chan had been wanting everything to be perfect for your birthday day and him not saying anything was kinda weird to all of them. "did he say anything to you guys?"

"he left earlier because he said he got plans? i thought he would be right there when we called." felix said and now it was your turn to be confused. so if he wasn't here and he said he got plans? where was he? it just didn't make sense. 

"i'm gonna text him right now to get his ass to your house." jisung said as he brought out his phone and texted as fast as he could. you could read the look on his face through the screen as he read the reply and it wasn't pleasing at all. "he's with soohee." jisung said and it was like everything stopped for a moment. 

"you're not serious right now." seungmin said and you couldn't hear the boys go off anymore because it was now starting to make sense. you were never really good friends with soohee, you tried to but it was like she had another image for who she wanted to be with chan (probably herself). you decided to hang up because you couldn't really talk anymore, you were just shocked that she would go that low and that he would not care enough. 

you wanted to go out and enjoy the rest of your birthday but it's like you were glued to the couch as the hours went by and eventually chan did get home. he looked at you and took in the scene, he wasn't sure what happened that you didn't text him all day like you usually do or that you didn't come by during practice. something had to be wrong for you to be acting like this right?

"baby? what's wrong? i missed you today." he said as he tried to sit down next to you but you got up and now he was starting to understand that he was the one who did you wrong. he still didn't know why though and the vague messages from the boys today weren't helping. he felt like he wasn't in on whatever was going on and it was starting to make him panic. "did i do something wrong? i have no idea what's happening."

"can i be alone today chris? i'm just not feeling too well." you expressed and that made him worry even more. you usually would talk it out if something like this happened but you were more silent than anything. you headed towards your shared room leaving a puzzled chan behind. that's when something popped up on his phone saying "(y/n)'s birthday, don't forget to pick up all the things you ordered!" and it fucking broke him completely. 

not only he didn't say happy birthday to you, not only he forgot to pick up all the gifts, not only did he not organize everything he had planned for today. he spent the whole day with a person he knew you weren't fond of and not with you who had waited all day for him to do something. if he wasn't the worst boyfriend in the planet right now, he surely didn't know who it was. 

minho ✉

it was no secret to you that minho forgot. you weren't really bothered by it since you weren't used to celebrating your birthday all that often but it made you kind of excited to do so this year. jisung decided to join you in organizing the event and when the day arrived, he said everything was set in place and of course told you happy birthday before anyone could do so.

"is minho hyung with you?" jisung asked over the phone as you tried to get ready. that question caught you off guard as you thought he told you he was going to be at the dorms. 

"he's not in the dorms?" you asked now feeling a bit troubled and hoping for the answer you knew wouldn't arrive because if he was at the dorms, jisung wouldn't have asked in the first place.

"i was sure that he told me he would be at your house before the party." he responded but as you looked around, yeah minho wasn't anywhere to be found and now you were wondering if he would show up at all. anxiety kicked in and that was not pleasant to feel on your special day. "okay i can feel you panicking through the phone already, he might be my best friend but i'm kicking his ass for lying."

jisung hanged up all of the sudden and you tried to concentrate on your look. you knew everyone was gonna be there so you wanted to make a good impression but all that was going through your mind was "why would minho lie?" and "where was minho?". it troubled you so much that you had to call him to know what was going on. 

"(y/n)? babe? i'm kinda busy right now." hearing his voice relieved you but you were still going back and forth in your head trying to figure out. maybe he was gonna surprise you? maybe he did really forget? or maybe he just didn't care? oh god all those questions.

"minho where are you?" you asked and waited for the dreaded response, you were already assuming the worst and you were right to do so when he responded.

"i'm at soohee's house. she had a bad date with a guy and she needed me here." he said as if it was all natural like he wasn't missing out on anything and that made you want to cry on the spot but you held back. it wasn't that he chose you over her, it was that she did this all the time and he wasn't realizing how she was using him. you wanted him to be here, to show you that he cared but his actions were speaking louder than anything.

"minho do me a favor and don't show up today." you said as you hung up, leaving a baffled minho on the other side of the line. what were you talking about? okay yes he lied about seeing his friend but it was because neither you or jisung liked her at all. he was just trying to be a good friend and he ended up being a bad one and also a terrible boyfriend in the process, how did that make any sense?

"who called?" soohee asked as she came back from getting all her makeup off after a long crying session. 

"oh it was (y/n), they were pissed at me though and i have no idea why." he explained and that only made her chuckle which had him confused. what was funny about his significant other being mad at him? yeah there was nothing funny about it.

"probably because their dumb birthday party was today." she responded and it hit him like a bucket of cold water. he looked at the calendar on his phone and he wanted to actually punch a wall. he forgot his partner's birthday, he lied in the process and he chose someone else who was now showing her true colors before him over you. how the fuck would he make it up to you now?

changbin ✉

you were trying to process what was going on as you woke up and had a ton of messages but there was no changbin beside you. it was weird also how all of the texts you were getting started with "happy birthday" but the one changbin sent only said "i'm gonna be busy today, sorry that i left without a goodbye!" and it was okay, you didn't expect him to remember everything especially when he was buried with work. 

well you thought it was work at least. you didn't expect it to be something else but every single one of the boys had told you to have a wonderful day and that they were sure changbin was gonna enjoy his day off with you. so it wasn't work and now you were left to think about the endless possibilities of where he could be.

"he left without a word?" yeonjun asked as he and wooyoung dropped by. they were some of changbin's closest friends but easily became yours as well as you hung out often with them. "but he told us he had big plans for today! where the fuck could he be?"

"i have no idea. i thought the boys would know but they even told me he asked for a day off to spend it with me." you said and you started to feel a little troubled. maybe something happened? he would tell you if something was happening though especially if it was an emergency.

"let's hope he's just planning the surprise." wooyoung said and you were hoping for that, that it was all just one big confusion and he didn't forget about you. you felt incredibly lonely when they left but they had hope that his friend would appear again and that "busy" meant he was gonna show up with a million flowers to make it up to you. 

but time was passing by and no changbin appeared until midnight. he didn't expect for you to be awake at such an hour but he didn't question it as he looked at you, dry tears in your face as you sniffled. worry washed over his body as he sat down next to you and tried to get close but you wouldn't let him.

"darling? what happened?" changbin asked, feeling the tension all of the sudden. he wasn't gonna be a coward and run away from it though, if you were feeling down it was his duty to know what happened.

"wooyoung and yeonjun were here thinking that you might show up with gifts or a reservation. i thought the same for a minute but then you never showed up." you said choking on your tears and it made his heart break into pieces as he processed what was happening. his friends showed up, his bandmates probably said something too, hell even his family told him to not forget about today and what did he do? not remember his significant other's special day.

"i'm sorry (y/n). i spent all day with soohee because she needed me and i forgot to even look at the date, i had everything planned. i'm such a fucking idiot but let me make it up to you." he tried explaining but it was no use as you got up as your sobs got louder and everything he said was only making it worse. he knew that beyond you not having a good relationship with her that he chose her over you on a date that was important and that he was now too late.

"so not only did you forget. you chose to spend it with a person who clearly hates me and everything about our relationship. i think that says more about you than me, changbin." you said as you shook your head and walked to your shared room, only to close the door in the process startling him. he feared that this would be the end because there was no going back from this one.

hyunjin ✉

you knew something was off when hyunjin basically went silent mode. he left the house in the morning, not a trace of a goodbye kiss and less of a happy birthday. he didn't answer his phone calls and neither the texts messages that you were sending which was very odd on his part. he usually would spam you images or emojis but there was no sight of him.

you asked chan if hyunjin happened to be at the studio and he responded back immediately saying that he was supposed to be there for practice and still hasn't showed up. which okay you could understand him working on your birthday, you weren't insane like that but he usually got there on time. you decided to grab your things and head to the jyp building, you wanted to see him mostly. maybe he had forgotten your birthday and that was okay, you still had the rest of the day to celebrate it.

everyone as soon as they saw you said "happy birthday" or greeted you which was very nice. when you saw the boys you couldn't help but smile even if deep down inside you were freaking out. you could tell the vibe was off as well as you saw chan on his phone but you weren't shook out of your thoughts as felix talked to you.

"you shouldn't have to spend your birthday at a filthy dance studio with us. you should be celebrating!" he said as he hugged you and you returned the hug. maybe you did need this embrace after all because you were feeling a little down as hyunjin still didn't arrive.

"i just wanted to see him lix. i'm kinda worried but i'm hoping for the best." you mumbled and he nodded as he understood how you were feeling and why you weren't acting like yourself.

"he says he's coming over here, thank god." chan said and that made you smile a little but then remembered he did not pick up any of your calls yet he picked up when chan called him. maybe he was busy before? well he could've still responded to you a bit later right?

you sat down next to seungmin as he saw how you were feeling and wanted to distract you from it. it was working until everyone saw hyunjin walk in with soohee and that was the answer to all your troubles even if it brought a storm towards you and what was going to happen.

"baby? what are you doing here?" he asked with a confused look on his face and could immediately pick up the tension in the room as the boys were glaring at him and you just looked so sad. 

"oh god are you seriously looking like that because he didn't say happy birthday? how old are you?" soohee spoke and hyunjin closed his eyes as he let it sink in. he knew you two weren't in terms and this only made it worse didn't it? he left without a trace, he didn't respond to anything on his phone and he was now walking in with her as she spoke to you in such a hateful way. 

"i'm just gonna go. i'm sorry for interrupting the practice guys and hyunjin, please don't come by my apartment." you said as the tears rolled down your face and you left as fast as you could. hyunjin wanted to go after you but felix stopped him because you needed to be alone for now to heal. the knot in his throat getting tighter as he thought about how he would redeem this after he fucked up so badly.

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

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feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

[magniloquent-raven]

Day 3: Missing Moments

a little something for @bucktommypositivityweek 💜 tommy POV after their first date + buck calling about meeting for coffee

**

Tommy's not moping. He doesn't mope. Especially not over a relationship that wasn't even a relationship yet. It was one date. Arguably less. Half a date with a guy he's hung out with—if he's counting very generously—a grand total of four times.

A blip, as far as relationships go. He has more history with that guy he used to trade semi-frequent blowjobs with who's saved in his phone as Nose Ring.

...Come to think of it, he should delete that guy's number. They haven't spoken in years. He's pretty sure the last text in their message history is—yup. Dick pic. From Nose Ring. They'd gone six months without contact, then he sent a picture of his penis and nothing else. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to be even vaguely interested, and there's been no communication since.

And that's really that's the problem, isn't it. His dating history is riddled with guys like that. Dead-end hookups and bad dates with people he didn't click with no matter how much he tried to force it. And people who just...didn't care enough. Then Evan...

Alright, he's moping a little bit. He's only human.

He's been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Pretty much since he got home. It's not late enough that he's tired, really, but he's also exhausted. In a soul-deep sort of way.

It was nice. He had a nice time, sitting across from Evan, letting him stutter his way through all the usual first date talking points like he was reading them off a list in his head. It was cute, how seriously he took it, how he'd pause and smile and get that soft look in his eye when he was listening to Tommy talk.

It would have been so easy to be greedy and keep spending time basking in that warmth he seems to radiate. Evan was clearly willing to push himself way past his comfort zone, but. Tommy wasn't. Isn't. His stomach twists just thinking about it.

But maybe he's being selfish either way. He wants more than Evan can give him, so he's pulling away completely, retreating before he can get too deep into planning a future Evan isn't ready for.

He sighs, feeling around next to his pillow until his fingers close around his phone.

Maybe Evan will reach out again. Some day. Eventually. Once he's more at ease with himself. Or maybe Tommy already ruined what could have been before it even started. Probably safer to just assume the latter. Restrict himself to hoping they can still be friends after this.

He scrolls aimlessly through his contacts. There's quite a few numbers in there that he should delete. Names he's not sure he recognizes anymore. Ones he wishes he could forget.

For some godforsaken reason he still has Sam Westbrook in here. Just reading the name puts a pit in his stomach. He doesn't remember everything about the three horrible months they spent together, it's mostly just flashes. The taste of too much beer on his tongue, saturated and clumsy in his mouth. A sharp smile and a sharper suit, always pressed and starched and better-than-you.

Tommy was newly out and far too hard on himself about how difficult it was. Guys like Sam seemed to sniff that out, made his personal shame all about them. It didn't always work, but Sam was particularly good at it. He always left Tommy feeling gutted and guilty and far too willing to do whatever it took to make it up to him the next time they saw each other. It's not a relationship he likes to think about.

But it's a reminder that he did the right thing tonight.

And...

Maybe he'll call Evan. Not yet, not right away. Tommy needs time to square away his own messy feelings, but maybe in a couple weeks. Just to let Even know he's. Around. If he needs someone to talk to about all this.

They can be friends. He'll make it work.

He deletes Sam's number, and tosses his phone aside.

Two weeks.

—

It's only two days later when his phone rings, Evan Buckley written across his screen in big white letters. He stares at it through five long buzzes while his heartbeat pounds in his ears.

This...wasn't the plan. And to make matters worse, he's at work. He catches one of his coworkers side-eyeing him curiously, and that pretty much guarantees he'll have at least three people ask him what was up with the phone call before his shift it over.

Well. He should at least give them something to gossip about. A guy called me and I watched it go to voicemail isn't much of a story.

He swipes to answer, before he can make himself any more nervous.

"Hey."

"Tommy! Hey!" Evan's voice crackles a little through the phone with a surprised intake of breath, like he wasn't the one who called in the first place. The corner of Tommy's mouth twitches. "H-how's it going?"

Tommy spent four hours yesterday taking apart his neighbours' lawn mower because he'd convinced the man it was making a weird noise and he could fix it. There was nothing wrong with it, but he checked every inch anyways, and put it back together well-oiled and exactly as pristine as it was before. That morning he'd gone grocery shopping with a paper list and his phone at home so he'd stop obsessively combing through all his files trying to find things to delete.

So, he's having a very normal week, clearly.

"Good," he says instead of explaining any of that. "I'm actually at work right now, so—"

"Oh crap, I forgot you were working today, sorry. I—I can call back later if you're busy."

"No, it's okay. Slow day so far." He pauses. "One might even say qui—"

"Ah, don't jinx it!"

Tommy snickers. Apparently Eddie wasn't exaggerating. He's known a lot of superstitious people, but most of them didn't take it this seriously. Evan sounded less panicked about flying directly into an actual hurricane. "Right, the dreaded Q-Word."

"Did you hear about the power lines that fell on our engine?!"

"Yes." He'd seen the pictures too. Pretty much everyone had, the 133 were sending them around all day after they took that call.

"And then some guy stole it later that same day, y'know. It was a terrible shift."

He'd heard about that too, but not that it was the same station. Damn. "Alright, alright. No tempting fate."

"Well. Good. Too many things can go wrong with helicopters."

Tommy squints up at the rafters, feeling unbearably fond. Like he's full of something warm and syrupy and too big for his chest, like he's spilling sunlight between his ribs.

He should ask why Evan called. Polite check-in after their date ended so abruptly? Another storm he needs Tommy to fly into? Metaphorical or otherwise. Hopefully it won't involve stealing anything else. They got way too lucky the first time for Tommy to trust it working out again, and he kind of likes his job.

He slips his free hand into his pocket. "How are you doing, Evan?"

"Oh." He lets out a soft exhale that comes through as quiet static. "I, uh. Good, actually. B-better, um. Listen, are you free tomorrow?"

Tommy stops breathing, lungs seizing for a long moment before he very carefully reminds himself how to use them. "Yes."

"I wanted to. Talk. To you. Um. In person, preferably."

This really wasn't the plan.

But it's fine. It's more than fine. It's...

He'll just have to deal with wanting to kiss the living daylights out of someone who's off-limits, it's not like he's never had to do that before. If Evan needs something from him he's not about to say no, he just didn't expect it to happen so soon, if it happened at all.

"I, uh, would've just popped by your house unannounced, but I thought this might be more polite," he continues, a teasing lilt in his voice. Tommy purses his lips against the smile threatening to overtake his face. "Also, I don't know where you live."

"You could've asked Eddie."

"Oh, so you're saying I should have ambushed you then?"

"No, that's very rude. Who does that."

Evan's delighted laugh is bright and infectious, and has him grinning at his feet, sunlight spreading down to the tips of his fingers.

"So, coffee? Tomorrow?"

"Alright."

"Cool. Awesome. I'll text you the details?"

"Cool," he echoes, purposefully deadpan. "Awesome."

He can hear the smile in Evan's voice when he pretends to be offended by the mocking. It's there all through their goodbye too, and Tommy finds himself coiled up around his anticipation at the thought of seeing that smile again.

It's going to be a long 18 hours. But it's worth the wait.

[starlitmelanin]

ᡣ𐭩ྀི make-believe; j.bellingham

pairing - jude x fem!reader

word count - 3k

warnings - none

summary - you and jude had broken up, decided to go your separate ways, but now you're both forced to play nice for an adidas ad.

you knew this day was coming.

the email landed in your inbox a week ago, the subject line so innocent, so unassuming: adidas shoot - schedule update.

you almost deleted it out of reflex, your heart dropping the moment you recognised the sender. but you clicked it anyway, because you knew better than to ignore reality.

"we've got an exciting shoot coming up with some of our top athletes," the message read, all corporate cheerfulness, "including you and jude bellingham! can't wait to see the magic you two create together."

magic. right.

you hadn't seen jude since it happened, since the two of you had ended things with a mutual understanding that felt more like mutual devastation. the kind of breakup where there's no yelling, no slamming doors, just a quiet acceptance that what you had was too complicated, too much for either of you to carry any longer.

but it wasn't any easier for that. in fact, it might've been harder. because you couldn't even hate him. you couldn't even scream or cry or blame him for anything. you were just... sad. sad in a way that sat heavy in your chest, that didn't go away no matter how many times you told yourself it was for the best.

and now, here you are, standing in the studio with the lights too bright and the air too cool, dressed head-to-toe in adidas gear, waiting for jude to show up.

you can feel the tension building in your shoulders, the nerves twisting in your stomach. you're trying to remind yourself that it's just another day at work, just another shoot, but it's not. not when he's involved.

you hear him before you see him, the familiar sound of his voice as he greets someone at the entrance, that same tone that used to make your heart skip a beat. you don't turn around right away, too busy pretending to adjust the fit of your jacket, but when you finally look up, there he is.

jude's standing there, just a few feet away, looking as good as ever, and it's like air is being sucked right out of your lungs. you thought you were prepared for this, thought you'd built up enough of a wall around your heart to keep it together, but the moment you see him, that wall cracks, just a little.

he looks... different. maybe it's just the distance, the time that's passed, or maybe it's the way he's holding himself, more reserved, more cautious. but his eyes still find yours, and for a split second, everything else fades away. it's just the two of you, caught in that familiar yet unspoken connection that never really went away.

"hey," he says, his voice softer than you remember, almost hesitant.

"hey," you reply, and it's too casual, too normal for what this moment really is. but you don't know what else to say, how else to greet the person who used to be your everything.

before either of you can say more, the director claps his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "all right, let's get started! y/n, jude, we're going to start with some paired shots, just the two of you. we want to capture that chemistry, that connection you both have as madrid's star players."

you almost laugh at the irony, but it sticks in your throat, coming out as a forced smile instead. you nod, falling into step with jude as the crew starts directing you both, positioning you in front of the camera.

the first pose isn't too bad. you're standing side by side, arms crossed, the standard tough athlete look. it's easy enough to slip into character, to pretend like everything's fine. but then the director starts asking for more.

"can you two get a little closer? jude, put your arm around y/n's shoulders, like you're celebrating a win together."

it's such a simple request, something you've done a hundred times before, but now it feels like the hardest thing in the world. still, you nod, forcing your body to move as jude steps closer, his arm brushing against yours before he rests it on your shoulders.

the contact sends a shiver through you, a reminder of all the times you used to lean into him, used to find comfort in his touch. but now, it feels different. awkward, forced, like a ghost of something that used to be real.

you keep your smile plastered on, staring straight ahead at the camera, but you can feel jude's tension too, the way his grip on your shoulder isn't as relaxed as it used to be, how he's holding back. and it makes everything worse because it's a reminder that he's just as affected by this as you are.

"perfect, perfect!" the director calls out, oblivious to the silent struggle happening between you. "now, y/n, turn towards jude, like you're about to high-five him, but stop just before your hands meet. we want to capture that anticipation, that energy."

you don't even know what that means, but you do as you're told, turning to face jude, your hand hovering in the air between you. he mirrors your movement, and now you're standing so close that you can see every detail of his face, the lines of stress around his eyes, the way his lips are pressed into a thin line.

the silence stretches between you, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world has shrunk down to just this, just the space between your hands, the weight of everything unsaid. your heart is pounding in your chest, your breath coming a little faster, and you're terrified that he can hear it, that he knows how much this is affecting you.

"great, hold that! now, jude, how about you pull y/n in for a side hug, like you're celebrating together again?"

you blink, your smile faltering for just a second before you catch yourself. this is too much, too close, too soon. but you don't have much of a choice, so you force yourself to move, stepping into jude's space as he wraps an arm around you.

it's stiff, weird, nothing like the way it used to be. and you can tell he feels it too, the way his body is tense, how his touch is light, as if he's afraid to hold on too tight, afraid of what might happen if he does.

you try to relax, try to let yourself sink into the moment, but it's impossible. because all you can think about is how wrong this feels, how much it hurts to be this close to him and yet so far away.

"beautiful! now, y/n, lean your head on jude's shoulder, like you're sharing a moment after a big win."

the director's voice feels like nails on a chalkboard, and you have to fight the urge to tell him to stop, to leave you alone. but you don't. instead, you follow his instructions, tilting your head to rest on jude's shoulder, your heart in your throat.

the scent of him hits you, familiar and comforting, and it takes everything in you not to let your eyes close, not to let yourself get lost in the memories that flood your mind. you can feel jude's breath hitch, just for a second, and you wonder if he's feeling the same thing, if the weight of this moment is crushing him too.

"and... got it! that's a wrap on this setup!"

the words are a relief, but also a disappointment. because even though this is torture, part of you doesn't want it to end, doesn't want to step away from him and go back to pretending like everything's fine, like you're over it.

but you have to. so you pull away, stepping back as jude's arm drops from your shoulders, the distance between you growing again. you glance up at him, catching his eyes for just a moment, and the look there makes your chest ache.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice low, just for you.

you nod, but it's a lie, and you both know it. "yeah. you?"

"yeah." another lie.

the director is already moving on, calling for the next setup, oblivious to the tension that hangs in the air like a storm cloud. you and jude follow along, moving like you're on autopilot, but it's clear that the magic they were hoping for isn't there. not really.

the next few poses are just as bad, each one requiring you to get close, to touch, to pretend like everything's fine when it's not. and with each one, the facade gets harder to maintain, the cracks in your armor growing wider.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, the director calls for a break, and you all but collapse onto a nearby bench, your head in your hands. you can feel jude's presence next to you, but you can't bring yourself to look at him, not now, not when you're so close to breaking.

"y/n," he says softly, and you can hear the concern in his voice, the guilt.

"don't," you whisper, shaking your head. "not here."

he doesn't push, but you can feel his frustration, his helplessness. and it's almost worse than if he had tried to talk to you, because it means he's feeling it too, the weight of this, the impossibility of pretending like nothing's changed.

the break doesn't last long enough.

before you've even caught your breath, the director is calling you back, his voice echoing through the studio like a bad dream. you don't want to get up, don't want to face jude again, but you don't have a choice. this is your job, your life, and sometimes that means swallowing the pain and pushing through it.

when you stand, jude's already on his feet, watching you with that same look he had earlier—like he wants to say something, like he's waiting for the right moment. but there's no right moment, and there won’t be. so you just walk past him, heading back to the set, feeling his eyes on your back the entire way.

"alright, now we're thinking something dynamic," the director explains, too excited for his own good. "like jude lifting y/n off the ground, both of you laughing, like you've just won a big tournament or something."

you almost laugh at the absurdity of it. the idea of jude lifting you, holding you close, laughing like nothing's wrong—it feels like a cruel joke. but you nod anyway, because what else can you do?

you take your position, standing in front of jude. the director is giving more instructions, telling jude how to wrap his arms around your waist, how to make it look effortless, but you can't focus on any of it. all you can think about is how this is going to hurt in ways you can't even begin to prepare for.

when jude's hands settle on your waist, it's like a jolt of electricity shoots through you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. his touch is gentle, almost too gentle, but it's the tenderness that cuts the deepest.

"on three," the director says, his voice distant, like it's coming from underwater. "one, two, three!"

jude lifts you, just like he's supposed to, and you feel the ground disappear beneath your feet. for a split second, it's almost like it used to be—before everything fell apart. the way he used to hold you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were worth protecting.

you're supposed to laugh, supposed to act like this is fun, but the sound that comes out of your mouth is hollow, forced. you don't know how jude manages to smile, how he keeps up the act, because all you want to do is scream, to tell everyone to stop, that this is too much, too painful.

but you don't. you just hang there, suspended in jude's arms, pretending like this is just another day, like you're not dying inside.

"perfect, perfect! that's exactly what we needed!" the director's voice is too loud, too cheerful, and it grates against your nerves. you want to tell him that this isn't perfect, that nothing about this is perfect, but the words stick in your throat.

when jude finally sets you down, you're unsteady on your feet, your legs shaky. you take a step back, putting distance between you, but it's not enough. the damage is done. the wound has been ripped open.

you glance at jude, and the look in his eyes tells you everything. he's hurting too, more than he's letting on. but he's also resigned, like he knows there's nothing either of you can do to fix this, like he's accepted that this is just the way it has to be.

"we'll take five," the director announces, already moving on to the next setup, oblivious to the emotional minefield he's just dragged you both through.

you nod, barely acknowledging him, and walk off the set, needing to be alone, needing to breathe. jude doesn't follow you this time, and you're grateful for it. you don't know what you'd say if he did. you don't know how to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside you, the pain of being so close to him and yet so far away.

you find a quiet corner of the studio, out of sight of the crew, and lean against the wall, your head tilted back as you try to keep it together. but the tears are already welling up, and you hate yourself for it, for being this vulnerable, this broken.

it wasn't supposed to be like this. you and jude were supposed to be the ones who made it, who figured it out. but life had other plans, and now you're stuck here, pretending like everything's fine when it's anything but.

you wipe at your eyes, trying to compose yourself, but it's no use. the emotions are too raw, too fresh. you can still feel jude's touch on your skin, still hear his voice in your head, and it's all too much.

you're so lost in your thoughts that you don't hear him approach. it's only when he speaks that you realise he's standing right in front of you.

"y/n..."

you look up, and there he is, his expression a mix of concern and something else. you want to tell him to leave, to go back to the set and let you deal with this on your own, but the words won't come.

"i'm sorry," he says, and the sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. "i didn't think it'd be this hard."

"me neither," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

he takes a step closer, hesitating like he's not sure if he should, like he's afraid of crossing a line that's already been blurred too many times today. "i... i still care about you. that hasn't changed."

his words hit you like a heavy blow, and you have to look away, your eyes focusing on the floor because you can't bear to look at him right now.

"jude, don't," you manage to say, your voice shaky. "please, just... don't."

he sighs, running a hand through his hair, frustration etched in every line of his body. "i don't know what to do, y/n. i don't know how to make this better."

you wish you had an answer for him, but you don't. because there isn't one. some things just can't be fixed, no matter how much you want them to be.

"maybe it's not supposed to be better," you say, your voice barely holding steady. "maybe this is just... how it has to be."

the words hang in the air, final and unchangeable, and you know they're true, even if you don't want them to be. whatever you and jude had, it's gone now, and no amount of pretending is going to bring it back.

he nods, his eyes dropping to the floor, and you can see the defeat in his posture, the way he's finally accepted that this is the end.

"we should get back," you say, needing to put distance between you, needing to end this conversation before it destroys you completely.

he doesn't argue, just follows your lead as you both make your way back to the set, the silence between you deafening.

the rest of the shoot goes by in a blur. you're going through the motions, doing what's asked of you without really thinking, without really feeling. it's easier that way, easier to disconnect, to shut down.

and jude... jude is the same. distant, reserved, like he's put up his own walls to protect himself from the hurt. you don't blame him. you've done the same.

when it's finally over, when the director calls it a wrap and the crew starts packing up, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. it's done. you survived. but that relief is tinged with sadness, with the knowledge that nothing's really changed. the pain is still there, still as fresh as it was when you first saw him this morning.

you grab your things, eager to get out of there. but as you're about to leave, he catches your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"y/n," he says, and there's something in his voice, something that makes you pause.

you turn to look at him, and for a moment, you see the boy you fell in love with, the one who made you believe in forever.

"take care of yourself," he says, his voice soft, almost tender.

you nod, not trusting yourself to speak. because there's no closure here, no neat ending, no goodbye that makes everything okay. there's just this—this messy, painful, complicated thing that you and jude have become.

"you too," you finally manage to say.

he gives you a small, sad smile, and then he lets you go.

and just like that, it's over. you walk away, your heart heavy, your mind racing with everything you wanted to say but couldn't.

because this isn't a movie, and there's no script to follow.

it's just... done.

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Healing ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 034 ✦ ┆・

[ TW: Depictions of Body Dysmorphia, Internal Misogyny, Fluff Ending ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Can you send a message to pretty little princess hiding in your heart? Tell her that her knight in shining armor is here ] ¡! ❞

For a long time, you've hated the idea of being a girl. In desperation to fit in with everyone else, you purposely acted like a tomboy. Pushing away those barbie dolls, mocking the idea of liking make-up, being disgusted with the other girls hating to get dirty.

All of that for the sake of fitting in, all of that for the hope that maybe if you become cool enough in everyone's eyes by not acting like a girl— You would find acceptance and validation from everyone around you.

But now, now who's laughing?

You're a grown woman now, and yet you cant even apply lip gloss or any make-up. Your clothes? Shabby long sleeves and hoodies, shirts that make you feel bloated and icky.

Your own body makes you so uncomfortable that even looking at your own face in the mirror makes you gag. The sight of your eyes, tho round cheeks, those awful dry lips— It made so sick in the stomach you purposely avoid mirrors as if they're going to kill you.

Despite how terrible you felt about yourself, despite how much you hated mirrors— You somehow capture Jinwoo's heart.

That perfect, perfect boy.

A clean shaven face, fluffy hair that always misbehaves but makes him more charming, a small smile that feels like it's lighting up the whole world— Yes. That perfect Jinwoo is your boyfriend.

And despite him not giving any hints nor saying anything, he knew of your self-destructive habits because of your appearance. Truthfully, there's nothing wrong with you, you've always been perfect. But even if JInwoo told you that— The only replies he gets are nervous chuckles and fidgeting.

He really didn't know how to help you at first, he wasn't a girl.

Ah, but he has a sister.

So he approached Jinah regarding you. She was perplexed by her brother's confusing statements since Jinwoo is so unsure of what to say. So instead, Jinah suggested he observed you more than he normally does.

And observe he does.

Jinwoo would often peek on your phone, not that he's worried that you'll be cheating since he's always around you even if he's not there.

He noticed a lot of things, your pins often involved dresses, your favourites had various pictures of make-up and other pretty things. It intrigued him, after all, you never shown interest in girly things outwardly.

Once Jinwoo had done enough watching, he knew the problem right away and how he could solve.

So, on one faithful day on your date in a mall— Jinwoo purposely passed by a shop that had similar dresses he saw on your phone.

Your gaze would wander absentmindedly towards the displayed frilly dress that had strawberry patterns on it's graceful fabric.

Bingo.

"Pretty colour, don't you think?" Jinwoo asks out of nowhere, leaning down a little towards you.

"H-huh?" You sputter, realizing wha you have been doing. "Well... It's fine I guess"

"Come on" Jinwoo gently tugs at your hand, guiding you to the store. "Let's see if there's a size for you."

"Hey!" You squeak, grabbing his arm to try and stop him. "I-I don't wear dresses! It won't look good!"

"It will," Jinwoo gently smiles, flicking your forehead. "I wanna see you in a dress, so come with me, yeah?"

You reluctantly sigh in defeat, letting Jinwoo drag you into the store. The man was quick to move about and get the dress, pushing it in your hands and then directing you to fitting room. Jinwoo waited patiently, until he saw your little head peek from the curtain of the dressing room.

"Come out, baby" He coaxes softly, as if he were talking to a little child hesitant to show themselves.

And when you do, Jinwoo felt his breath hitch. His mouth would slightly hang open, his grey eyes complete still as it gazes upon your beautiful figure adorn in that pink strawberry dress. The way it so gracefully lands on your curves, eloquent and meek. The flowy freels making you look like you best belong in a fairytale book.

Jinwoo felt like he just fell in love all over again.

"I-I knew it, it looks stupid!" You cry out, immediately shutting the curtain but Jinwoo sprang up to his feet and prevented you from hiding away.

"Hey, hey, sarang" Jinwoo chuckles, "You look pretty, I just couldn't talk for a moment hahah..."

"But..."

"Sarang, can you look at me?" Jinwoo cooes softly and you hesitantly meet his gaze. "See that girl in my eyes?"

"She's the prettiest princess I've ever seen"

His words make you shy, like it always did. Somehow, Jinwoo had a knack for making you shrink into feeling like a giddy little girl in her birthday.

"So, will the princess please spoil me by wearing more pretty dresses?" Jinwoo asks, his eyebrow cocking up a little as he leans down. "Hm?"

"Okay— ???!!!"

You couldn't even finish talking as Jinwoo shoved atleas tten dresses into your arms.

The rest of the time? Jinwoo swears he almost died with every dress he puts on. His heart was bleeding a river at this point. You're such a pretty girl. How come you've never tried such clothing?

Jinwoo could tell that you absolutely enjoyed it, the way you were hopping around, spinning a little to watch the fabrics float and twirl along your movement— The look on your face proves that you have been dying to feel this way in forever.

He adores that smile of yours, more than anything else in the world. If you look this happy in such clothing, he can only imagine what you must have gone through to not have the courage to wear pretty things until today.

In the end, Jinwoo bought at least 15 dresses off of his wallet and the idiot seemed to be even more happier than you do.

Just as you thought Jinwoo would be done for today— The man decided to drag you into dior where at this point you wanted to cry.

"Nah-ah~" Jinwoo hums, continuing to guide you inside.

He scanned through the lipstick sampling area before picking up a single shade, holding it up to your lips.

"Come now," He says gently, and you obeyed.

With a mouth slightly hanging open, Jinwoo started applying the lipstick with intense focus. His stare was boring into you, it was as if Jinwoo is currently doing something extremely important.

After a few more seconds, Jinwoo swipes his thumb under your bottom lip.

"Look," Jinwoo turns you around, showing you your the lipstick he had applied on you. The color was magnificent, suiting your sweet features and making you appear dolled up even by just a little. "This colour looks so good on you, sarang."

"Why?..." You ask, pursing your lips. "You keep..."

"Spoiling you?" Jinwoo finishes your words for you, his voice growing a bit quieter. "I know it's rude, but I snooped around in your phone and found that you are very fond of pretty things. Not that I minded your current appearance, of course not. But I can't help but notice that you somehow feel like an imposter in your own body. So what am I to do as your boyfriend? I help you come out of your shell."

"My pretty little thing, if you want something, tell me" Jinwoo kisses the side of your head affectionately. "Didn't I tell you? I'll always help you whenever you need me, just say the word and I'll do it"

"If you want to be a princess, then I'll help you become one. So wont you tell that shy little girl in your heart to come out and play with her knight in shining armour?"

You didn't answer, but that was more than enough for Jinwoo to confirm what he needs to. So he picked a few more colours of the lipstick he knew would look good on you. He'll start out slow with buying cosmetics since he doesn't know much. Maybe he should ask Jinah once he's home.

After succesfully purchasing the lipsticks, he gently intertwines your fingers as he guides you out of the store.

"Why don't you say we test these out at home?" Jinwoo muses. "I wanna see how well they'll stain"

Oh that devious smile on his stupidly handsome face, you knew at that moment Jinwoo was planning to probably kiss you until he cant breathe.

꒰ A/N: I'm struggling to embrace my own feminine side, despite my age I don't know how to wear makeup nor do I wear pretty things. I still have a very bad case of body dysmorphia, so I made this fic to heal me and maybe even allow me to be a bit more confident. I hope you guys don't mind this very selfish fic</33 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[wosoamazing]

Against All Odds

Summary: You find yourself with a career ending injury, but Beth and Viv, your guardians and Leah are there for you. Based on this request.

Warnings: Death (mentions of fact Rs parents are dead), allusions to cancer, very bad knee injury, hospitals, paramedics, passing out, one section contains talks of Leah’s endometriosis, a bit sad -> Let me know if there is anything else.

A/N: I really liked this when I first wrote it, but I don't know anymore, maybe just because I hate editing so I was projecting my feelings about editing onto my fic. But anyway I hope you like it.

You were part of the AWFC and the Lionesses, however football wasn’t the only sport you played in at a professional level, you were also a Track and Field athlete, you were a youth world champion, but not many people knew, the Soccer seemed to outshine the Athletics, so no one found out. It was getting close to the stage of having a discussion with the British Olympic Association about whether you were going to do both Football and Athletics at the olympics or whether you could only do one, and if you could only do one whether you got to make the choice or if they did. But that conversation was no longer needed. Team GB wasn’t going to be at the Olympics for Women’s Football so you only had one choice, and that was Athletics, however there wasn't really the question of whether you would qualify or not. It was a certainty now that you were going to the Olympics, considering the fact you were running sub 10.6 for 100 metres. You actually qualified for the 2020 Olympics but you were only 13, so it was decided you weren't going, even though you were faster than some of the athletes you were just too young.

You were one stride away from the finish line, you had done it, shown that even despite your age you deserved to be at the olympics, that last stride would cause you to have run sub 10.7 at the qualifiers, which was a good time, since you hadn’t trained in 6 months, due to the World Cup and England Olympic qualifiers. However that last stride went wrong, you still made it across the finish line, but something went badly wrong, a shooting tearing splitting pain went through your knee as your body collapsed onto the ground, tears were streaming out of your eyes, your surrounds were a haze, heaps and heaps of bright yellow people surround you, they were paramedics you think, they were asking you questions, but it hurt too much to process anything. Your brain was also preoccupied with the fact that you would most likely not be going to the Olympics this year, or maybe even never. You weren't dumb, you couldn't actually process what the paramedics were saying, nor had you seen your knee, but there was no way this was a simple injury, your knee felt like it had exploded, a bomb had gone off, this was a big injury, if the pain causing you to be on the verge of passing out wasn't enough to tell you this, the immediate arrival of like 10 paramedics was definitely enough to tell you something really bad had happened. Your world was literally crumbling around you, you needed football and track, you didn’t want to face the fact that you might never get to be a pro again. You thought you heard someone say something about moving you onto a stretcher and to the ambulance before you passed out.

_____

“Viv, has she sent you a message? She isn’t replying to any of mine, she should be here by now.”

“Maybe it's just run over time and so she is still racing.” Viv replied, trying to comfort Beth.

Beth and Viv were two of the three teammates who knew about your athletics. You couldn't really keep it from them, considering you did live with them, the trophies, the photos, the ‘shrines’ you had. Leah also knew, as you went to the same school and due to the schools sport buddy system she was your sport buddy, you messaged her almost daily since you were 10 and looked up to her so much, she was an inspiration to you. However, Leah never realised how much you actually did idolise her until she saw said ‘shrines’ when she came into your room the day you were setting it up, to give you a present. She looked around the room, above your desk she saw your Mum’s last olympic Jersey framed, with photos of you and her at the track surrounding it in a heart shape. There was also a single photo in the middle of the heart of you and her, you were holding a massive trophy and a huge grin was plastered on your face, but she couldn't help but notice how weak your Mum looked she was in a wheelchair, then it clicked that was the last time your Mum saw you run. You had just won your first junior athletics championships, in that photo, it was a week before your Mum died. Leah knew that because you told her one day, when she asked you which sport you would choose, you said you would forever do both. She then saw the photo from your Dad’s military honour funeral, along with his cap hung next to it, above your dresser which was placed just next to your desk, another heart surrounded it, but this time it was photos of him and his platoon wearing their Y/L/N bibs watching your races at the championships while they were deployed, a photo of him in rehab, kicking a ball to you after he lost his leg and was learning how to use to prosthetic one so he could go back to duty, the photo of your Dad’s platoon surprising you at on of your competitions just after you Dad had died on duty was also there. Between the two hearts was a family of the three of you, you were only small, it hurt her to think that was most likely one of the last family photos you had, you were just so young. She then turned to see what the third ‘shrine’ you were in the middle of making was. She saw you placing framed letters, certificates, medals, and photos in a heart shape around yet another item and photo of someone who helped you massively and inspired you, expect this time she felt her heart grow warm, it was her england debut shirt, she had signed and gifted to you, along with a photo of you mid jump into her arms, after the 2020 Euros Final, celebrating her win with her. You saw your so called shrines your three lifes, your Athletics life which was inspired by your Mum, your everyday life which you attributed to your Dad, and your Football life which was inspired by Leah.

There was also another reason Beth and Viv knew about the athletics and that was because you had no other family, and someone had to sign permission slips, and when you moved in with Beth and Viv and they become your legal guardians according to the state, meaning that they were the ones now required to sign permission slips, so they knew everything.

—

“Viv, I’m going to go call her,” “Okay,” Viv said as she saw Leah walking towards her.

“How did she go?” Leah asked Viv, “We don’t know she hasn't replied to us.” Viv said as Beth started walking back over.

“She wont answer,” “Shit” the next three minutes Beth and Viv continuously called you.

“Beth we need to go now,” “What why,” “She got hurt badly, she is in surgery currently,” “Why didn’t they call us, to get consent for surgery. Shit, it's bad, let's go.”

They rushed off from training, and drove as fast as possible to the hospital. Leah stayed to inform Jonas and finish training before she quickly found herself, driving to the hospital, knee bouncing, hoping you were semi okay.

_____

When you woke up from surgery Beth and Viv were either side of you, holding your hands in theirs. A doctor walked in shortly after you woke up, to update you on your condition.

“Split Patella. Torn MCL and meniscus, partially torn LCL. Patella ligament was torn slightly in half vertically due to the separation of the Patella. Pins in the patella, sutures in the LCL and Patella ligament, meniscus was cleaned and sutured. In the end we went with a graft to fix the MCL in hopes to have a better recovery. No one actually can figure out how it happened, but it’s lucky your didn't tear your ACL or PCL.”

“Yeah but everything else is torn or split, would prefer just an ACL”

“Sorry about that, she comes with a bit of an attitude,” Beth said, as Viv glared at you, you just glared back, you were right after all, he was making it seem like nothing, when literally everything was stuffed.

He just dismissed it and continued “You’ll be lucky to walk normally again, let alone run or play football again. And even if you do somehow ever get back to running or playing football it will never be anywhere near the professional level.”

“I want a new doctor please,” You said to him blankly

“Hey, that's not very nice” “Yeah well I’ve seen what happens when doctors don’t have hope. I don’t want this halfwit in charge of my recovery, if it was up to him he would probably just put me in a wheelchair and be done with it. People come back from injuries that seem impossible to come back from. People lose limbs and still go back to war, it’s not impossible, as long as you’re not lazy. Just someone get me a new doctor. And you can go, I can’t believe you even got to operate on me.” He scoffed and walked out. You were fuming, your breath increased, your face turned into game mode and your nostrils started to flare, Beth and Viv knew that had to do something, so they tried to comfort you.

“Hey it's okay” Beth said as she rubbed her thumb on the back of the hand she was holding. You turned to her and glared at her before yelling at her. “No its fucking not, this isn’t okay, nothing about this is okay or fair or fine. Just leave, I want to be alone.” They both slightly jumped before quickly getting up and leaving. You felt your response was a bit harsh, but it was nothing compared to how you were actually feeling in this moment.

After 5 minutes the door slid open and a body slinked into the room, and sat on a chair near the end of your bed. It was Leah. She just smiled at you before she looked down at her phone. You felt a small tear roll down your cheek, the first one since your surgery, you quickly wiped it away and sniffled, however that caught the attention of Leah, and soon your single tear turned into more tears. She didn’t say anything, you didn't know if that was because she didn't know what to say, or if it was because she knew nothing she said would help. She did however get up out of her seat and walk towards your bed. You tried to shuffle over but your leg was holding you in place, you looked at her longingly. She looked at your knee and back to you, checking if thats what was the problem, you nodded. So she ever so carefully shifted your leg as you moved and then climbed onto the bed. You immediately moved closer to her, so that you were almost on top of her, and just melted into her comfort, as she held you tight.

After a while Beth and Viv walked in. “I’m sorry” you mumbled, feeling bad for pushing them away.

“It’s okay, you’re in a lot of pain both physically and emotionally, but we want you to know we are going to be here for you every step of the way. Okay.” you nodded, Viv sat down in the chair and beth sat down in her lap.

_____

When the fourth new doctor of the day entered the room, you jumped the gun, speaking before he could speak. “If you’re going to tell me I’m never going to play again or if you are a phycologist or some shit you can go, I don't want to hear it. Untill this hospital can find me someone who isnt a fucking sissy I won’t talk to any of you, and if they cant I’ll go somewhere else, another country if I have to.”

He sat down on the ‘doctor’ stool before wheeling himself on the chair closer to your bed, he leant forward slightly, and looked you directly in the eyes before he started speaking. “Well, I’m here to tell you that my team and I can get you back to playing pro. I’m not going to lie, its not going to be easy, its going to be fucking hard, harder than anything that has ever happened to you, everything combined. But we have done some research on you and had some conversations to people and we believe you can do this, we believe you are the right type of person, that you have the right support system and most of all have the determination, to not only now prove that dumb doctor wrong, but to show the universe that you won't break, nothing they throw at you, will cause you to break. So what do you say?”

You nodded slowly, looking at him before looking at Beth and Viv, almost seeking permission or maybe just reassurance, they both smiled and nodded at you, Leah squeezed your upper arm with the hand she had wrapped around your shoulders. You turn back to the doctor.

“I think like you,” “so is that a yes” “yes”

_____

He wasnt wrong, this was fucking hard, you were in agony, your face was scrunched up as tears streamed down from the first minute of rehab. You were told that you could stop if you needed to, but you weren't going to, you wanted to keep going, you needed to keep going, you needed to get back to playing.

Beth had been watching your first intensive rehab session from the window along with Viv and Leah. 10 minutes into the session she couldn't bear to watch, she walked away from the window before she broke down, she couldn't bear to see you in such agony. She was second guessing her choices, maybe you were pushing yourself too far, maybe they shouldn’t have signed the consent forms, after all you were only 15. Viv and Leah followed her, Viv wrapped her arms around her and tried to comfort her. 

“Maybe we take away the consent forms, she shouldn't be doing this.” Beth said, as she started to calm down slightly.

“No you fucking wont. She needs this, you may not entirely understand but she does, this is her absolute world. You don't get it.” Leah snapped back at her.

“Oh. So I don't understand what it's like to have a serious injury that takes you away from the thing you like doing, and I don't understand what it's like to lose a parent.”

“That's not what I mean Beth, and you know that.”

“Oh so what do you mean then.” Beth replied snarkily.

“You don’t understand the uncertainty of whether you will get to play or not, you knew you were going to come back, she doesn’t, she won't ever know until she gets there. You don't get what it means to know you are going to miss out on something that is 100% a given, well something that was 100% a given. She said to me when she was 10, that she was going to win an olympic record for her Mum, and that is something that was almost guaranteed to happen this year, she was going to become the youngest person to hold an 100 metre olympic record for her Mum and now she might never win an olympic record let alone go to an olympics. I was going to captain my country in a world cup that we had a very good chance at winning and that was taken away from me, that certainty, the thing that shows who we are and what we have strove for just gets taken away from us. And yes you did miss out on the world cup too beth, but this is different. Your injury meant something different with your Mum too. Your injury gave you time with your Mum. Her injury is taking her away from her Mum.”

Beth just nodded at Leah, not knowing what to reply, Leah was right, but it didn't make seeing you like that any better. Leah walked away and opened the door, joining you in rehab, she sat on the side of your good leg, speaking encouraging words to you the whole. Which admittedly did help.

_____

Beth and Viv came to some of your rehab sessions, but they struggled watching, they couldn't deal with they were the reason you were in pain, it's what you wanted to do, but if they didn't sign the consent forms you wouldn't be in this much pain, but they knew deep down this is what was best.

Leah was there for you every rehab session she could be, she was in a different position, she understood how Beth and Viv felt and would feel the same if she was in that position, but she wasn’t. She felt differently about this because she was in that position and so she was determined to be your constant through this. She was so insistent on that, that when she had an endo flare-up really bad you had to instruct her to stay home, she tried using the excuse that because you were in pain and still doing rehab she should too, you told her that was dumb, and you had to be in pain to get better, she needed to rest to get better. The main reason was that the past few days you had started working on walking without assistance, and if you passed the tests today you would be able to, well more like strongly encouraged too, walk without assistance in small intervals, it would only be max 30 mins a day in total currently but it was something. But you didn't want Leah to know this. You wanted to surprise everyone.

You did exactly that in their next training session.

“Are you sure about this?” Viv asked you concerned

“Yes, are they all in there?” you replied.

“Yeah Jonas said we had a meeting to be there by 8:10, we messaged and said sorry we will be 5 minutes late.” Beth replied and you nodded

You crutched your way into the centre and gave Viv your crutches just as you neared the dining room entrance, Beth went ahead of you as you walked, albeit very slowly, behind her into the dining room. All heads turned to you, no one expected you to be there, you hadn’t had a day off from rehab since you started, and as you were doing external rehab you hadn’t seen much of the girls.

“Oh we thought you were Jonas, do you know where he is?” Kim asked.

“Yeah he is just behind u-” “Wait Viv, why are you holding crutches that are definitely not your size” Steph asked.

“Holy fuck kid, you’re walking,” Katie said when she finally realised that you were walking, once everyone realised that you got your crutches back from Viv, standing without your crutches was painful, everyone came up and hugged you and congratulated you, except for one person, the one person that you really wanted to surprise. You continued looking around the room thinking you just missed her or something but your search was interrupted by a hand on your shoulder, “She isn't in here kid, she is with the medics. I can take you to visit her if you want.” Lia whispered in your ear, you nodded your head.

“Beth, Viv, I’m just going to take Y/N/N to see Leah,” Lia told them, they nodded their heads.

“Leah, I have someone who would like to see you,” Leah chimed through the door, 

“What Lia, you can't say that about yourself,” “No, it's not me who would like to see you, it’s someone else” and with that Lia opened the door for you and you walked into the room cautiously, Lia followed behind you holding your crutches.

“OMG Y/N/N you're walking” you just grinned and nodded at her, she went to reach out to you for a hug but before she could she winced in pain and retracted into a ball. 

“Le, I think you need to go home, I told you, you shouldn’t have come today,” Lia said as she walked to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Can Y/N come?” Leah asked timidly, “I’ll check with Beth and Viv first but yes.” Both you and Leah perked up at that

–

You entered the house a while after Lia and Leah, considering you had to get up the stairs which wasn’t the easiest task to do with crutches, but you managed it. You walked into the living room, and saw a photo, a photo you had hanging on your wall, it was bigger on this wall though, and sat next to what you could only assume was Leah’s Euro Final Jersey framed and her medal. You thought that it was sweet she had hung that photo of you up. You decided to sit on the couch and wait for Lia or Leah to come back out and talk to you, however you quickly fell asleep. You had basically been sleeping, eating or rehabbing since your injury so it wasnt out of the ordinary. Lia came out to check on you but found you asleep, so she decided to leave you asleep.

_____

You were lying in your bed, when Beth and Viv returned from their game, you were now getting a day off rehab every week, to slightly allow your body to rest. You had begged your rehab team to let you go to the game, but they said no, but they did mention maybe next week, so you were determined for that to happen. But currently you were in your bed tearing up at the thought of playing football, you were so determined to just get back you had forgotten about why you wanted to get back to it so much, the family feeling, the feeling once you scored a goal, the feeling of winning with some of the closest people in your life, the feeling of being free, having nothing else on your mind other than the game. You were in sobs by the time Beth and Viv had opened your door.

“Oh Baby, what’s wrong?” Beth asked as she went to sit beside you on the bed. 

“I-I’m s-so-sorry,” you cried out, Beth pulled you into her side, wrapping her arms around you, you buried your head in her chest. Viv walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in next to you, before she started to rub your back.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, it's okay to cry, what you’re going through isn’t something small, and isn’t something easy.” Beth reassured you.

“No. I’m sorry for yelling at you the first day in the hospital, and for being mean to you both when you’re just trying to help me, and that you have to look after me.”

“It’s okay, we’re here for you Kleintje, this injury hasn’t been easy and won’t be, so if you need to get mad at us sometimes that is okay. And we will always look after you, we love you, we wouldn’t want to do anything else than help you when you’re sick or injured.” Viv replied.

“But you shouldn’t have to look after me, it's not your fault I dont have parents.” Beth was surprised it took this long for the emotions of your parents not being able to look after you to hit, she felt it while she was recovering from her ACL and she didn’t have her Mum. The date also hadn’t slipped her mind for the entire day. She felt as though this conversation, this set of emotions, would be something you would prefer to have with just Beth, someone who understood in what you felt, she was older so it was easier on her in some way, but it doesn't make it hurt any less, it just meant she understood what was happening to her Mum where you didn’t. She looked up to Viv, and gave her a soft, sad, warm smile. Viv picked up on what Beth was silently communicating. Beth had a small tear roll down her face before she looked up at the roof, Viv wiped the tear away and kissed her quickly before she got up and headed to the door.

“I’m just going to have a shower, let me know if you need anything.” Viv said, she really didn;t want to leave you two but knew she needed to.

“Thank you,” you mumbled before she shut the door, she knew that it wasn't just for helping you, but for leaving, even though it went against everything in her being.

“I-I’m sorry,” “It’s okay Vivy understands. Can you sit up for me quickly?” You did as Beth said, she sat more upright resting her back against the pillows on the headboard, before pulling you onto her lap, you sat parallel to the headboard leaning your side into her, resting your head against her shoulder. You pulled your good leg into a ball, trying to feel safe. Beth wrapped her arms around you tightly, and started slightly rocking side to side. She kissed your forehead before she started talking again. 

“Y/N, it's okay to be upset, every date is just as important as the other. Today means something, every date means something. Today marks the start, and that’s just as important as the end.”

“It’s hard Beth.”

“I know it is, but you’ve got this, I’m here with you, I’m here for you, I understand, you never have to explain anything to me, I get it, but just know that she loves you, and she would be incredibly proud of you.” You felt a drop of water hit your shoulder, Beth was crying now too.

“I-I love y-you, th-thank you.” She nodded, you knew she wouldn’t be able to talk, you were struggling to talk, your tears choking back your words. She unwrapped the arm that was in front of you and you saw her moving her hand towards yours, you quickly grabbed it and held onto it tightly. You sat there soaking up Beth’s comfort, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

_____

Commonwealth Games 2026

“We’re here trackside with Y/F/N Y/L/N who at just 17 years old has broken 4 records today, 3 officially and one unofficially. She has just finished her first competitive 100m back since her career ending injury, with an absolutely insane time of 10.45. Giving her a second gold medal of the day.”

“An absolute masterclass out there Y/N/N, how do you feel?”

“Honestly amazing. On a high. I-I can’t believe it. Let alone find the words to express it” you said puffing.

“How’s the knee feeling? Recovery mustn’t have been easy.”

“Yeah no, the knee is feeling great, recovery was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I had some fantastic people surrounding me and helping me and guiding me through it all. And I just wanted to give a massive thank you to Tim and his team. Without their belief, fantastic skill set and unbelievable knowledge I probably wouldn't even be here competing today, let alone standing here with a gold medal. But also to all my teammates, and to my parents who made me who I am, I love you both.”

[sftykth]

milk and cookies ⟢ anakin skywalker ii.

banner made by me!

╭ summary: your doll like face will be the end of anakin skywalker he was sure of it. however he must stay away from his disturbing thoughts as he was only your sugar daddy, and you two had agreed on a deal, no physical contact. Though for how long can you both resist the temptation?

╭ pairing: y/n x anakin skywalker

╭ genre: college au!, gap age (y/n is 20, anakin is 42), sugar daddy

╭ a/n: here’s part two of the series:) let me know what you think! any ideas of what you may wanna see, my requests are always open:)

part i

You huffed at the lack of notifications on your phone.

It has been officially two weeks since the last time you had spoken to Mr Skywalker. There was no messages, no calls, absolutely nothing. Your tendencies to please people made you overthink the worst, did he not like you? Were you not pretty enough for him. Shaking your head, you knew that could not have been the case. Though you could not shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You debated if you should reach out first, it was a Friday night and you were incredibly bored.

Reaching for your phone, you chewed on your lip as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Thoughts racing your head, thinking of what you could say to him. Keeping it simple and short would be best, you thought.

May 2024

[Dollface] hey how are you?

[Sky] Hello, dollface. I'm alright why are you texting me this late at night. No plans for the youngsters hm?

[Dollface] uhh nopee. i wanted to ask you something..

[Sky] Go on. Don't be shy now.

[Dollface] um well you hadn't messaged me at all, did you decide i wasn't up for the role or something..

You slightly cringed at your desperation, but something about him just made you so needy for his attention. You wanted it, no you needed it.

[Sky] I do remember we both agreed to the deal, no?

[Dollface] well yeah.. but its been two weeks i just thought

[Sky] There has been no reason for me to do so. My next event is not until next Saturday which I will send more details over near the date.

[Dollface] oh i see yeah that makes sense haha sorry i will leave you be now.

[Read]

You felt something wet hit your cheek, you didn't even realize you were crying. The cold attitude was something you didn't expect to receive, though you should have knew better. You were always so senstive to people's feelings towards you, always wanting them to like you, doing anything in your power to please them.

Wiping the tears that had managed to escape, you threw your phone to side as you laid down on your bed. You didn't understand him, some moments he seemed to be kind and then other times he seemed so harsh and cold. You wrapped your arms around you, craving warmth as you mind couldn't stop creating thoughts upon thoughts of why he was so mean. Falling asleep that night was near impossible.

-

One week had passed since you reached out to Mr Skywalker, or your sugar daddy you could say. It felt like a painfully slow week, barely managing to attend your classes not really having much motivation. The nerves on attending the event had kept you up most nights, wondering how will it plan out. Your head perked up at the ding coming from your phone, rushing to your desk you saw the name which made you feel so many emotions at once.

[Sky] Good evening, Dollface. I hope I'm not interrupting you, I just wanted to let you know the details of the event tomorrow.

[Dollface] hey! no no i wasn't doing much. and yes of course

[Sky] Good. Luckily, the event is a local one so travel will not be far. We are promoting a new product so many important figures will be there, so formal outwear is a must for this case. Most importantly, do not be late.

[Dollface] yes i understand Mr Skywalker, what is the address of this place?

[Sky] No need. My driver and I will pick you up at eight o'clock sharp.

A relieved sigh left my lips, having some form of knowledge on the event slightly eased my nerves or perhaps it was the fact I got to speak to him. You shake your head, you shouldn't be feeling this way towards a man who only is there to pay you essentially.

Now you had a major task up your sleeve, try and find something fancy enough. Oh God. You thought, this is going to be difficult seen as your wardrobe was made up of tiny skirts and dresses. You had always preferred clothes that revealed your figure, not really finding the problem in lengths. Though you were determined not to disappoint the man, and rushed to find something that will be acceptable enough.

-

Twenty minutes. That is how long you had before Mr Skywalker picks you up. You had managed to find a dress that you had long tucked away, a dress you mother had gifted you on your eighteen birthday, saying how you were finally a lady and should dress like one. You remember rolling your eyes at her, never understanding why she found your style to be such a big deal.

Glancing up at the mirror, a big smile crossed your face. The long black gown hugged your figure in every right place, a flower pattern embroidered in the material, paired with some black heels. It was quite see through which did cause a slight doubt in your head but you pushed it away, it surely wouldn't be that much of a problem. Typically, you would have your hair straightened but for tonight you had put it in nice curls, your make up enhancing your docile features even more.

You could only hope he also thought you looked pretty. Cursing yourself for once again thinking about him so much but at this point you could not stop your little mind.

A knock was heard from the downstairs, it must be him. You quickly rushed downstairs, not faring to be a second late. Opening the door it felt like your breath was knocked out of you. There he stood towering over you, his dark blonde curls perfectly styled. A giddy feeling had crept in at the fact you were unintentionally matching, him in a full black suit.

He raised his eyebrow once his eyes had landed on you. Giving you a look over, "You look different." Was all he said before turning around and walking to the car parked in front of us. Your lip quivered, what did he even mean by that. Glancing down at yourself, you thought you looked pretty okay, yes it was very far from your usual style. Approaching the car you tried your hardest not to let out a sob, you didn't want to cry in front of him, he wouldn't understand your sensitive side, you thought.

The atmosphere inside the car was thick, you tightened your arms around yourself. Not a single word had been spoken between you, you felt so uncomfortable. So much so you almost were tempted to stop the car and run as far away from him as possible.

A shake to your shoulder made you jump from your thoughts, arrived already? "We are here. Now remember we are here as a couple so try to be on your best behavior." he says before leaving the car. Getting out the car the slight breeze hit your legs, you should have brought a jacket with you.

You felt someones hand touch yours, you jolted at the touch as you saw he had intertwined your hands together. Your doe like eyes peered up at him, forgetting for a minute at the reason behind such intimate action. He only gave you a tight smile before leading the way towards the building, you could only hope your poor heart won't give up on you.

Entering the massive hall you were surrounded by what you could only assume other rich people. Instantly, a lady had come offering drinks you both had declined her. You were not prepared to get drunk in front of all these people, knowing your self your ass would act out. You were a very emotional drunk.

"Here comes Mr Windu, he is my main opponent at the minute. Always challenging my role, that idiot.." he rambled on, you listened quietly finding it slightly cute at the tiny frown that appeared on his face.

"Just don't say anything got it." you nodded in response, you were unsure what type of man Mr Windu was, you had heard of his role in the state wanting to take Mr Skywalker's position from what you heard on the radio.

"Well well, what do we have here. Mr Skywalker it is a pleasure to see you. Have come all prepared as per usual." the older man grinned as his eyes never left Mr Skywalkers's. You gulped at the intense eye contact between the two. Only for Windu's eyes to glance down at me, your eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights.

His dark eyes looked you up and down, "Oh and what a delight do we have here. I don't think I have seen you here before. Last I seen it was the beautiful Mrs Amidala"

A twinge of pain crossed your chest for a second, you almost forgot about his wife, or ex wife you could say.

"There is no longer a Mrs, Mr windu. If you have forgotten I had divorced my wife long time ago" Mr Skywalker's voice was strained, you could tell he did not want to be speaking about his ex wife with the man right now.

"And this is my new Lady, if you could excuse us now," he tried to walk away but was stopped by the grip Windu had on my wrist,.

"Now now, there is no reason for such a rush leave. I only wanted to learn the name of this gorgeous being, Skywalker. Does she not speak for herself, hm." he questioned as his hold never left my wrist. You winced at the harsh hold, "It's Y/n" you whimpered in response.

Dropping your arm he smirked, "It was nice meeting you Y/n, and of course you too Mr Skywalker." Watching him walk away, a huge sigh left your body you didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

Turning your head sideways, Mr Skywalker was already staring at you. Blushing at the long stare he was giving you, you looked down at your shoes biting your lip. You felt a gentle tug at your chin, raising you to look at him. Glancing at his eyes, you could see concern?

"Are you alright dollface? He should not have dared to put his hands on you like that. No man should. Are you hurt?" his questions made your head dizzy. The unexpected concern for you made you feel something inside. Giving him a slight node, "I'm okay Mr Skywalker, thank you. I just didn't expect it is all."

"Please use Anakin, dollface. It is easier to say and I feel so old when people use my last name so often." he chuckled, reaching for your hand again he held tit so gently this time, giving it a small squeeze as he led the way towards the bar.

You couldn't help but grin at the affection he was suddenly giving you, the cold attitude from earlier fully wiped away. It almost gave you a whiplash. "Would you like something to drink, dollface?" he asked as he ordered himself a whiskey. "Maybe just a coke, please."

"Not a drinker huh?" he questioned, taking a seat to your left on the high stools. "Not really, I just hate how I get when I get drunk. So rather just not cause a scene." you gave him a nervous laugh, playing with the ends of your hair to distract yourself from the piercing eyes that belonged to such a handsome man.

"Oh? And what would that be, dollface?" he raised his eyebrow, eyes never leaving me. The use of the nickname made you gush inside, loving how it sounded coming from him. You debated whether you should answer him but the affections side he shown you made you feel comfortable enough for some reason.

"I-I just get very emotional.. I'm just sensitive when it comes to things I guess. Or well more so than others, my mother always told me I need to grow out of it. But that is the thing its just who I am. I can't change something like that" you rambled on, in that moment it felt almost right.

He hums, "You shouldn't feel like you need to change for anyone, dollface. I'm being serious you know, you need to embrace yourself for who you are whichever way that is." The way he spoke to you was so soft and nothing like before, you almost didn't recognize the man facing you.

"Thank you, Anakin I really do appreciate that." you gave him a big smile in return. His hand reached out and brushed a piece of hair from my face, tucking it behind your ear, you didn't even notice the gap that began to close as his face neared yours.

"Now what do we have here." A stern voice spoke out.

let me know what you guys think!:) and what you may wanna see in future series 👀 also let me know if you wanna be in the tag list!

tag list:

@cl0esblogg @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Written for @steddieangstyaugust day 4: angst with a happy ending.

Once upon a time, when the world almost ended and didn't, Eddie Munson used to think that surviving the near apocalypse would be the most difficult thing he'd ever have to do in his life. Surely being bitten to death, then resurrected by the big bad, then breaking away from his influence and helping save the world, that must have counted for something, right? He'd earn a happy end through all that suffering.

Well, no. Not really. That's what he learned the second the portal to the Upside Down closed. The lovely people of Hawkins still hated him, he and Wayne had nowhere to live because their trailer split open, and he barely escaped another group of government scientists very much interested in the whole "came back to life" thing.

It was only natural Eddie ran. Why wouldn't he? He brought Wayne only bad luck, even worse reputation, and a bunch of extra expenses. His friends from the Corroded Coffin? Tortured by Jason to find his location. The freshmen he dragged into Hellfire? Also targeted. Eddie's name was a target on the back on everyone he loved and he wouldn't stay long enough for it to put the others in danger. Not Wayne, Dustin…Steve. Steve who confused him as much as enticed him. But Hawkins wasn't the place to explore this forbidden space in Eddie's head.

Indy sounded like a good destination and so that's where he went. He wrote a bunch of goodbye letters, trying to explain, but mostly to ease the pain. I will be in touch once I settle in, he said in them. He was never a good liar, not even on paper.

The whole Upside Down affair had robbed him of everything. His baby, his guitar. His closest relationships. His only proper home. The future he saw with himself and the Corroded Coffin. But he still had his life, so that was something.

He made friends, but not really. How do you make a real connection with someone when you can't tell them anything about the most important event in your life? How do you explain staring at every girl with golden blond ponytail on the street, dreading the moment they turn around because it won't be her?

He would send letters to Wayne sometimes. They would be long, talking about this and that, he would sometimes call too. But he noticed that for how much he talked, the content was empty. He wondered if Wayne noticed too. He must have - his uncle was the most perceptive man he'd ever met. He sent a bunch of short messages to Dustin via Wayne, just to keep him from going all Sherlock Holmes on Eddie. He swore to visit them both one day. Just not today. Or tomorrow.

The only good thing about his life in Indy was the anonymity of a large city and with that, the possibility to explore who he really was. He saved as much as he could and bought a new guitar. It would never be like his first love, but he could get back to music and drive his roommates insane with how out of practice he was. He'd play here and there, become very slightly famous in the local queer community. Sometimes his performances would earn him a free drink, sometimes a kiss. Or if he was really good, company for the night.

Five years in, it was going fairly well, he thought. He wasn't completely broke, he could kiss who he wanted - boys, how long it took him to admit that!, his songs got more genuine. He even wrote a bunch about Hawkins, never naming the place or people, of course, but it helped him work through some stuff. And on some days, he didn't even think much about what and who he'd left behind.

Until that fateful evening when he was scheduled to perform in his frequented gay bar. He sat on his usual stool on the podium with his acoustic guitar, greeted the regulars, and said his usual spiel: "This one is about a very special boy. He wore a yellow sweater, saved my life a bunch of times. Was really badass too. I think he made me realize who I really am, even if he never knew how I feel about him."

He never gave the song a name. He considered "His vest over my bleeding heart", or maybe something like "Keep me like you kept the vest", something with sunflowers, nail bats, perfect hair. Everyone in the bar knew he hated naming his songs anyway, so he took a deep breath and got ready to play.

Only then did he notice a familiar shade of yellow near the bar. And a surprised, but still a smile.

Eddie didn't run that evening. He finished the set, thanked his supporters and fans, and then he found himself sitting next to Steve Harrington, the man from his songs and dreams.

"Everyone misses you like crazy. They still hope you'll stop by, but I get it. I just feel lucky as hell. I didn't think I'd see you again," said Steve and it sounded sad. Like he actually missed Eddie too.

"I didn't think I'd find you in a place like this," responded Eddie. He wanted it to sound more rough, defensive, but his heart betrayed him and it was more of a question. Of a plea.

Steve smiled at him again, and maybe it was Eddie's imagination, but did he shift closer to him? "You haven't seen me in a long time, Eddie. This is exactly the place you'd find me these days. And now…I don't even need to drag Robin with me as an excuse."

Oh. Okay. Eddie could work with that. Licking his lips, he prodded even more. "So…uh. I take it you still haven't found what you're looking for?"

Steve turned to him fully, reaching out for Eddie's hand, and Eddie realized that he might have been wrong. This might be his happy ending after all.

Especially when Steve's lips parted and he said: "I have now."

Eddie would visit Wayne. He'd call Dustin, catch up with Gareth and others. Because he no longer felt like a bad omen. The morning he woke up next to Steve Harrington, with a careful promise of much more than one night, with pancakes for breakfast and talking, so much real talking with no secrets and no lies, he decided that he was ready to stop running. For good this time.

[coff33andb00ks]

55 + george because i can’t stop thinking about him

"Stay there. I'm on my way."

driver + number = drabble <3

thank you for this darling George definitely needs more fics 😌

warnings: drunken fuckboy behaviors, not proofread, part of my upcoming mafia au universe

suggested listening: The Devil is a Gentleman by Merci Raines

You're not quite sure how you let Charles talk you into coming along to the party, but here you are, still nursing the drink you got when you first arrived. You've danced, enjoyed some chatter with other people. The music's getting louder and the party goers are getting rowdier but you know Charles will take you home.

You just have to find him.

Couples are making out out in the open. Making your way through the room, you gasp as bodies crash into you, wincing when your drink spills down your front.

"Hey doll what's your hurry?" a voice slurs, and you shudder at the feel of a hand grabbing at you.

Charles. Charles. Where the hell is Charles? You wrench away and push through into the next room, pausing long enough to set your empty glass down. The room is relatively empty, save for a handful of couples dancing too close for your comfort. No sign of Charles.

"C'mon, doll, we got some good stuff that'll help you relax." It's the same drunken voice and you immediately look for an exit. Either up the stairs or out the door, and you don't like the idea of being outside and even more vulnerable.

Upstairs it is, and through the first door that doesn't lead into a bedroom. You're grateful it's a bathroom and lock the door behind you, leaning against the door as you try to figure out what to do next.

"Doll where you at?"

Pulling your phone from your purse, you try calling Charles ten times, each one ringing until voicemail picks up and after the fifth slightly panicked message you don't bother.

Fucking Charles. When I see him again I'm punching him right in his stupid adorable face.

You scroll through your contacts, mentally crossing off each one - you don't think the florist will come pick you up - and stop at the most recent addition.

George R.

Tall, so very British, you met him in the bookstore last week, both reaching for the same book. You'd joked that he was picking up Pride and Prejudice for his girlfriend, he'd told you no, just replacing a dogeared copy. Somehow that had led to a discussion of the classics, and he'd smoothly offered to exchange numbers.

"Perhaps we can meet and discuss more favorites?"

"I'd like that."

This wasn't a favorite. This was an emergency. And you remember that he seemed like the type a stranded woman could call in case of emergency.

He answers on the second ring.

"Hi. It's..." You barely get your name out, tensing when there's a banging on the other side of the door.

"Of course." He pauses. "What's wrong?"

Later you'll ask him how he knows something wrong but the drunken asshole is still banging on the door. So you tell him what's wrong, and don't think twice when he asks if you're at the Stroll estate.

"Stay there. I'm on my way."

The phone beeps and you blink, staring at the screen as the banging ends. Pushing away from the door, you set your phone down and wash your hands, feeling them shake as the doorknob rattles. You're certain he'll give up, but he doesn't, continuing to call out–

"C'mon doll playin' hard to get just makes me want you more."

–and rattle the door.

Until, suddenly, he stops. Your eyes widen when you hear what definitely sounds like a fist meeting a face, followed by thud of a body hitting the floor.

Then, gently, a knock.

"It's George." He sounds so calm. As though he regularly goes out in the middle of the night and punches drunk guys out.

When you unlock the door and open it, he's there. Looking as though he just left some swanky dinner party in his suit and tie.

His expression is concerned, and when you glance at the crumpled figure on the floor behind him he shifts to block your gaze. "Did he hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, he... He didn't touch me."

"You're sure?" he asks, searching your face. When you nod, he seems satisfied. "Let's get you home then."

Grabbing your phone, you let him guide you from the bathroom, glancing back at the man on the floor. "Did you–"

"He would have passed out soon, my dear. Absolutely sloshed." George has a gentle grip on your arm, ushering you down the stairs and out the front door, seemingly unconcerned by the surroundings. A car is waiting at the base of the wide front steps, still running and driver's door open. He opens the passenger door for you and you sink into expensive leather.

"Thank you," you say once he's behind the wheel and driving away from the house.

"It's no trouble at all," he assures you.

"I don't usually do this." You don't know why but you feel like you have to explain yourself. "Parties and all that. I just came because my friend–"

George snorts.

"Invited me along," you finish lamely.

"The Stroll family isn't a safe, my dear," he advises after a moment. "I'm not sure how closely connected your friend is with them, but if you care for your safety you'll stay away in future."

"Was that guy one of them?" you ask softly.

"No, I don't think so."

The rest of the ride is quiet, and when he parks in front of your house he gets out to walk you to the door. And suddenly he's the affable man you met in the bookstore, asking to meet tomorrow for lunch. His lips are soft against your cheek in the seconds before you go inside, and you're smiling as you close the door.

It's not until you hear his car drive off that you realize he hadn't asked you your address.

[modmad]

Hey Mod, I don't know what's going on that hurt you, I feel like I missed something that's happened, but I can tell from what I did see that it didn't just hurt you, but scared you and made you feel a Lot of doubt. I've also seen a lot of messages pouring in with support, and I want to share mine.

I have hypermobile type EDS, fibromyalgia, and a whole bucket's worth of faulty wiring in my brain. And I've always had stories to tell but I never felt I was good enough to share them. If it's because I can't focus enough to get through nanowrimo, or because I can't manage the focus and time towards drawing as a hobby, or the fact that an excessive amount of either for me leads to my hands wanting to shut down. But you? You *inspire* me. Your stories, all the ones I've seen, read, experienced in some way or another, they're so good. And you're open and honest with your fans about your own health, and of course, we support you and always would rather you rest and feel as best you can, instead of pushing out something and working yourself too hard. But all of this is to say that. I think I would have given up on my own stories if I hadn't found you and yours.

I hope whatever is going on sorts itself out, I hope you're able to keep telling your stories. At your own pace, in your own way. I think you deserve to be happy. If there's anything we (your fans, especially those of us too awkward to come off anon, whoops,) can do, to help in some way? Even if it's silly videos or cute cat pictures or whatever it is that could just help you smile. We're here. We love you.

woof. I woke up to so many messages I can't even read them all in one go I'm getting too emotional- I do feel I owe an explanation so I'll explain what happened under the cut but all you guys need to know is I'm okay, I got through it, I love you, and you're so important to me and I'm so grateful for all the messages that have asked me to stay.

tw for suicidal thoughts and all that

yeah so I have the bad morning of all mornings: was introduced to the fact there's this one character (Mr Puzzles) on a very popular youtube that. resembles RGB. incredibly strongly. like. I don't want to link to it just look if you want to. Anyway at the time I thought it had just dropped (seems to have been around for 6 months actually), and having commented on it I immediately got an inbox full of hate mail.

My website, meanwhile, had locked both me and my web designer out of it, and- already in a bad state of mind- I went into full on panic/paranoid spiral of 'they have hacked it, and they are going to delete any proof that I was here before them.' This of course wasn't true, and we have since recalimed control of the site (don't know what happened there but hey. it's fine???? haha. ha.)

On top of this my father has terminal cancer of the pancreas, which is horrible for everyone already but it means that- at some point this year- I am going to be the only person with an active income in my house. I am disabled, do not make a lot of money, and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Combine that with months of Despair at the world right now, with the multiple wars, genocide, corruption and AI and the loss of control any of us have over our IP or lives and I just decided it was time to end it all.

I somehow remembered this was a bad idea to act on immediately (hard during a period of entirely irrational thought) and instead went for a very long walk, crossed the bridge I could have jumped off and during that I came out of the worst of it. I then came back home to so much love online I felt deeply ashamed for ever contemplating it, and I cried a lot. My nose is still puffy and now my feet hurt! lmao

Anyway. Yeah. There's your context. I am not going to stop hoping, making, or living. I am prone to moments of weakness and this was one of the worst of them and I am still here, thanks in a large part to all of you. I might need you in the future to defend me against this, or people who take our ideas, but I hope you know that I will do the same for you. We need each other, and to be there for you I need to be here at all.

also fuck Mr Puzzles