#nah she's in charge of hell
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i actually think katherine might've been one of tvd's best characters
#( out of klaus. )#she wasn't a good person#but boy is she fucking funny#u think she's dead#nah she's in charge of hell#LMFAOOOOOO#like who else do you know who does that#i think maybe only klaus would be strong enough to endure hell#long enough to rule it#like what the fuck#grade A character i constantly forget she's played by nina#she is so diff from elena
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#hahaaa so quick update on rl situation#started a new job at a factory and already the area ive in has been goving me a static charge that has me being shocked#on EVERYTHING / ANYTHING metal and ive got to use buttons that have electricity running through them#one button doesnt even have a proper plastic cover on it so to turn it on i have to stick my finger inside it to actually hit it#imagine that. imagine getting shocked for my entire shift EVERYWHERE in little doses and by these buttons w electricity yu know?#ive been there two days and already have to remember 6 machines and im gonna learn more#10 all week despite the rest of the department doing 10 just on sundays and 8 the rest of the week. by the third day they wanted#to have me alone. they didnt even have me in the system to clock in / no badge / no time cards / dodnt tell me all this until monday#here i am thinking shits usual shift time and its not. came in two hours late#hypertension / heart palpitations / high blood pressure just from dealing with knowing i have big gaps in training and they want me alone#me getting shocked to high hell. and knowing even if i WANTED go skiddadle that i COULDN'T#my poor heart been going through it. dealing with them ive been going through it.#NO WONDER PEOPLE NO CALL NO SHOW ON THIS AREA AND YOU CANT KEEP TEMPS#nah cause fuck me running up a damn tree for acorns. tryna relay im being shocked and the girl training me not believing me#til i lit her ass up by touching her on accident through her gloves AND mine. i cant even use my gloves to help#i TRIED THAT. so like she didnt believe me til i made her see had to go to the doctor to not feel like#im being subtly gaslighted into thinking im making a big deal out of nothing and im crazy#i CRIED in the bathroom / before my shift / and after bc i feel off and my anxiety about being shocked is enormous#now i have to deal with paper work while feeling like my chest is being beaten on and squeezed. HAHAAA#im mentally / physically / emotionally going through it. but thank you for coming to my ted talk
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.
Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.
Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.
Part 2. Part 3.
When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.
She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.
"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"
You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"
Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.
A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.
"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.
It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.
You frown, unconvinced by his answer.
“Did Soap contaminate you?”
Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.
“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”
A smirk stretches your lips.
“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”
“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”
He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.
You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.
“What you wanted? A still open wound?”
“You.”
He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.
“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”
You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.
“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”
You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.
Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.
“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.
“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”
He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.
“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”
“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”
You raise an amused eyebrow.
“What kind of price?”
“A kiss.”
You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.
“With the mask on?”
He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.
“Take it off.”
You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.
You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.
“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”
#mine#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#cod#cod fanfic#cod x reader#writings#writers on tumblr#playing around with the format ~ :)#cos the post is prettier this way lol#cod fluff#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#cod mw3#fluff#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod ghost#ghost cod#ghost fluff#ficlet#cod fic#1k#!!!#2k
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
omg rafe walking in on bunny holding a gun to groff (like the scene where hollis is shot)
spoilers below !!!! mentions of death n violence too
i like this idea because i think it would result in rafe killing groff, leaving (cough, cough) certain people’s fate on a different path — keeping them alive and well.
rafe would stroll in, only to have his heart plummet to his ass, seeing you shakily holding up a gun, eyes trained on the older man.
“hey, hey hey woah! ‘the hell is goin’ on?” rafes loud and panicked voice fills the room, making you jump which makes everyone flinch. his hands are up in the air like you had the gun aimed at him.
“rafe, so glad you’re here.” groff greets him as calmly as he can, glancing toward him reluctantly as to not take his wide eyes off you. “why don’t you tell this little lady right here to put the gun down huh? we can all just talk.”
rafe licks his lips, stalking closer. “wh—why? what you do huh? why is she — why is my girlfriend holding a gun to your face huh?” he raises his voice a little, watching the tears prick your eyes as you tremble, stiff and unmoving as you stare at groff.
“nothing, nothing just a little misunderstanding!”
the cameron boy turns his attention to you, even bending at the knees a little to level with you. his hands are infront of him now, wild eyes trying to grab your attention.
“hey, look at me alright why don’t you hand that to me? not gonna let anything happen baby just — just lemme have it.”
you trust him, and only him — but the second you take your eyes off groff, extending your arm to hand the pistol to your boyfriend, groff is quick to suddenly knock it out of your hand, sending the room into chaos as he charges at you.
naturally, rafe swings at him and the two begin to tussle, flying into furniture. avoiding the chaos, you crawl in your little white dress — still somewhat conscious of the fact you’re messing up your outfit and reach for the fallen gun once more, only for groff to grab it just in time, aiming it right at you.
groff pulls the trigger, but by some insane stroke of luck — the gun jams, leaving him confused and disorientated for a moment, leaving your boyfriend the perfect opportunity to grab it once more, the gun shooting out a delayed bullet straight into groffs leg.
the older man falls to the floor now, yelling, wincing and clutching his wound.
“agh! son of a bitch!” he curses, curling up and backing away until his back hits the cool marble of the kitchen wall. rafe licks his lips, catching his breath as he stalks toward the man, now fearful and small on the ground. “look i snapped okay, it was a mistake that i wont be making again!”
“yeah, nah… little too late for ‘mistakes’ now, isn’t it?” rafe screws up his face, lifting the gun to aim it at him. “you tried to shoot my girlfriend.” he observes, now eerily calm.
you stand trembling behind him, heart thundering in your chest.
“in my defence, she was going to shoot me first.” groff tries, causing rafe to scoff and cock the gun, causing the man to cower.
“pro’lly within good reason too, bitch.” he takes a few breaths before calling your name, hoarse voice just that tad more gentle. he doesn’t take his eyes off groff as a safety precaution, yet he waits for some kind of response.
“hm?”
“face the wall n’cover your ears, alright?”
“rafey, you’ll go t’jail again and—” you go to whine, emotional but he cuts you off impatiently.
“hey. i’m a killer, alright. s’who i am. just like my dad. wouldn’t have to be that way but — but people keep pushing me so… i got no choice. do as i say, okay? now?”
he waits for the sound of your reluctant scuffling feet, and even through the palms of your hands — the sound of the single bullet piercing the air is deafening.
522 notes
·
View notes
Text
I WANT YOU BAD・。♪ LN4
( lando norris x fem!reader )
IN WHICH. y/n (and a good joint) is lando's best distraction. (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, drug use (as per), unprotected p in v, riding, lordddd they are filty, dirty talk, squirting, high hotness pt 345345, lando is in love with the reader (as per pt. 2), guys it's just filth filth filth
NOTE. yoohoooo im soo back!!! first fic release after like 3 months haha.... but it's high!lando so, forgive me plz 😔🙏 anyways, i'm slowly getting back into the groove of writing (i only wrote a tad bit during my break smh) and im sorry if im a bit rusty. hopefully, its only up from here. enjoy my dearest readers, and feedback is always welcomed <3
SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍
there's a gentle, warm thrum that bubbles beneath lando's skin, like a premise of excitement, tendrils of smoke tearing and stitching sentience with sluggish countenance. doesn't see a thing beyond a feet before him, and can't feel anything (yet feels everything) sauf the familiar radiation of body heat from the girl pressed limply into him.
two things for the price of one, it barely gets better than this. he feels like a magic act, cartoonish smears of smoke coalescing, then dimming as he inhales and exhales and inhales again. every taut stress from the day slowly flakes off his muscles, and succeeding another drag of the joint, he lets a gentle sigh huff out of him.
"better now?"
y/n's voice sounds like soft lace in his ears, and she snuggles closer into his shoulder, hand splayed, and weighty, upon his chest. she feels completely dead, always getting too high too fast, but never lets the warnings rid her of the euphoria. lando knows that, and can't blame her either; there's something unequivocally beautiful about getting high and losing the ability to connect one thought to another.
he shifts- he thinks he does so- rolling the spliff between his fingers before curling his lips to push out the smoke that began to scratch striations into his throat.
"yeah," he drawls out, "never go wrong with a good spliff."
y/n just barely giggles, palm rubbing up and down lando's chest. he swears he's on fucking fire, neurones charging and buzzing and crackling at every heightened numbness, and all he can do is take another drag.
there's a blanket of silence, comfortable and observing, before lando feels her, wantonly, drag her hand over his crotch then squeezes; and, jesus fucking christ, the moan that's punched out of him is ungodly.
"y/n- fucking hell," he leaves it at that, slowly swivelling his head towards her. she's smiling, largely and so gorgeously that lando feels like he's levitating. why is she looking at him like that?
"wanna fuck you, lan'," she whispers, redundant because it's already so damningly filthy, "make you lose your shit."
lando is struck speechless and completely horny, blood swelling his cock to where it edges pain, but god, does it feel so fucking good that all he can do is moan and tighten his grip on y/n's thigh sprawled across his body.
she smirks, sitting upright and slides to straddle lando, hips grinding heavily into his and the pressure is glorious.
"you like that, huh?" she bites her lower lip and presses harder, lando's head lolling to the backrest of the armchair. he could cum right into his pants if his motive wasn't to do it deep into y/n's cunt instead.
"you know i do, baby," he takes another drag, doesn't know how he musters the effort to, "you riding me is a sight."
she giggles, "just staring at my tits as i'm doing so, you fucker."
lando shakes his head, "nah, i meant all of you, baby. so beautiful," then he's smiling and pulling her into a kiss that's just tongue and want, lando gripping a hand around her nape. he can die like this, he thinks, encompassed in the feeling of a throbbing dick and a sloppy, wet mouth— all of it.
y/n curls her fingers around the hem of his joggers, lifting her hips- their lips still attached- and sliding them down his thighs. cool air caresses his cock, pulsating, weeping and redder than she's ever seen it before, lando moaning at the relief as it slaps against his abdomen.
"oh lan' look at you," she whispers, wrapping her hand around his cock (the way he squirms at that is indescribable), "you need my pussy that bad?"
it's all faux concern, but it does the trick, lando nodding and on the verge of sobbing when she clenches her fist.
"come on- fuck me, y/n," he's whining and squirming, hands grabbing at her shorts to tug it off after wedging the joint between his lips. she stands up, lando's hands trailing away as she goes to slide them off, crumpling at her feet. and all lando thinks is mylovemylovemylove. his skin burns like he's being dipped in lava, yanking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.
the girl wastes no time crawling back into his lap, hovering over his erect cock as she takes both hands, spreads her cheeks and sheaths him in.
"y/n- ohh fuckkk-"
the slide— it's so so good, lando's losing his mind, he wants to ask 'no prep?' but fuck, she's taking him so well that he just shuts off. he pants roughly, eyes squeezing shut as she whines and bottoms out, feeling deeper than he has ever been. he's tingling everywhere, a shaking a hand plucking his spliff out of his mouth and unto the couch, feeling y/n's tight, hot pussy grip him with every inch of its life. and just when he thinks it's nearly too much, she starts to move.
y/n grinds and bounces like a fucking pornstar, shirt and bra she had on a few minutes ago strewn somewhere in the room, tits jumping and nipples swollen. oh, it's such a view and as much as lando wants to keep watching, a spark of pleasure causes his eyes to hurl to the back of his head, body flushed deeply and mouth slackened as it leaks a thick moan.
"your cock, lan'- shit, i'm gonna cum so hard," y/n's voice sounds so ruined and lando is obsessed with it, eyes opening as he gives her a small smirk. hands run all over her body- her legs, her breasts- before settling on her ass and languidly dragging it up and down his cock. y/n's reaction is immediate, trembling and crying out a high pitched moan that almost has lando cumming right there.
"i want you to cum so hard, baby. this is your cock," he huffs, hips thrusting upwards and slapping against y/n's ass. the sounds make his mind go static; it's so filthily good, skin hitting skin.
y/n smashes her lips against lando's as she works her hips harder, feeling the cold metal of his chain bind to chest. they can barely kiss, panting into each other's mouth- then lando's cock stabs her g spot, hard, and she's screaming and cumming, liquid running between her thighs and cunt squeezing lando so damn tight, he's pushing her hips into his, yelping, and spurting cum, thick and warm, into y/n.
"fuck fuck fuck- oh god baby, just like that," lando speaks into her skin, "just like that."
he rolls his hips to ride out their highs, pleasure setting deep in his veins before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him, leaning back.
"fuck, i love you," lando whispers, pressing kisses into her shoulder.
"even when i squirt all over you?"
lando smirks, placing a kiss on her lips, "especially when you squirt, baby.
#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando#lando norris fic#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 smut#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Mapi angst? Pls🥹
Answer: This is my first time writing angst but I hope you’ll like it 😭
What I dreaded the most
Summary: You’re Barça’s youngest player, which makes your teammates call you the “kid” of the team. The team is supposed to play a match but you’re nowhere to be seen, which causes Mapi to be anxious and worried. She later learns that there was a good reason for your absence.
TW: mention of a dislocated shoulder, car crash, hospital, brief mentions of pain and wounds
Angst with happy ending.
Word count: 2,261
Y/n Y/l/n was Barça’s youngest player, her teammates were quick to jump in on calling her the team’s “kid”, upon her first time hearing her being called that she couldn’t help but feel as if it was meant to be a subtle punch in the gut, like “kid” was something derogatory, perhaps it was a bit childish but slowly over time she started feeling warm whenever one of the girls called her that, even if it was a simple “hey kid” or maybe even “kiddo”, there were many variants, but all became a familiar and nice nickname.
Out of the entire time you’ve grown the closest to Mapi, the girl’s eccentric and often times unpredictable personality absolutely charmed you, the two of you enjoyed joking with each other, frequently talking with each other during breaks at training
Today, was the day of a match for Barça, Mapi was in the locker room, sitting down on a bench whilst talking with Ingrid and Aitana. There were only a few minutes left before they’d have to go out, yet you haven’t arrived yet, this weirded out Mapi as well as Ingrid and Aitana when they brought it up, you weren’t one to be late to anything (Mapi liked that trait of yours) so what the hell happened? Mapi couldn’t help but shift anxiously in her seat, her mind thinking of the worst outcomes; something must’ve happened to you, or perhaps someone? You were her close friend, she always had this natural worry in the back of her mind when it came to you, maybe because you were so young…She looked around the locker room, hoping that you’d finally appear somewhere and explain that something came up or something. “Did she tell you guys anything?” Mapi looked up at her teammates, concern written all over her face, “Nah, listen Mapi…you have to calm down” Ingrid assured her, patting her shoulder “You should listen to Ingrid, Maps, I mean maybe Y/n caught something? You know how it is” Aitana agreed with Ingrid, Mapi appreciated that they were trying to get her to calm down but nonetheless it didn’t help her, she sighed and lowered her head. “We can always try and call her” Aitana proposed and immediately retrieved her phone, Ingrid nodded and did the same.
And so the girls started calling Y/n’s number, but to no avail, it seemed like her phone was either turned off or hadn’t been charged, this only made Mapi‘s panic worse, other teammates tried to call her as well but no one got an answer.
“Something must’ve happened, she’d never pull something like this” Mapi frowned “I have to talk to the coach” she added and stood up from the bench she was sitting on, Aitana and Ingrid wanted to tell her to give it up since she was completely off contact, so what could the coach do? But they let her go anyway, Mapi marched to find the coach, and when she did she didn’t save any of her concerns from the coach, she needed to search for you since this was incredibly weird, but in the end all she got was a “We can’t do anything about it María, you have to focus the match is about to start, Y/n will probably come over in some time anyway”.
Mapi came back to the locker room with her head held low, Aitana and Ingrid were still on their phones trying to call you up, as well as Keira, Patricia and even Alexia…it was clear they were feeling irritated at this whole situation, some more than the others. They had to break it to Mapi that they couldn’t just keep on trying to call you for hours on end since they had a match to play, Mapi was feeling terrible at this point, but they were right, even if she wanted to she couldn’t just run out of the stadium to go looking for you right now.
She sat back down on her bench, taking a sip of water to try and do anything that could calm her down even a minimal precent, Alexia came up to Mapi, sitting down next to her on the bench, “You shouldn’t be worrying so much, I’m sure Y/n’s fine, wherever she is…” the blonde tried to comfort her teammate, Mapi looked over at her friend smiling slightly “Yeah I guess you’re right Alexia…we’ve gotta focus on the game” Mapi’s smile falterd after she said that, she could feel it’d be hard for her to concentrate on anything else other than you right now, she wished she could listen to all the things her teammates were saying to her, but they couldn’t help her at all.
There was no more asking or calling now, they had to go out and play at this moment. As Mapi stood there on the green pitch she felt as if she was doing this for the first time, like she was a stranger among her teammates, it was as if her own feet were misleading her, she could see Ingrid, Aitana, Alexia and the rest looking at her with confused looks, as she was barely managing with her defense. Mapi’s concern for you overtook all her senses, and in result as the first half neared its end, it was no shock that Mapi was taken off the field for someone else to replace her.
Weirdly shaken up and distressed she made her way back to the locker room. She sighed, she sat back down on that same bench she was sitting earlier in a much calmer state than now, Mapi held her phone in her hands, she still had a hope that as her screen light up she would see a notification from you, wherever it was a message, call or anything else. She blinked and there it was, as if what she was hoping for came true, there it was, clear in a simple black coloured font
Y/n:
It’s bad Mapi
Attached to your message was your localisation, Mapi’s eyes widened, in that moment she knew that she had to drop everything to see where in God’s name you were all this time, her levels of worry were going through multiple roofs, she grabbed her bag and sprinted out of the stadium, she had to go to that localisation at this exact moment.
The setting was only a little bit off from the city, the countless buildings were clearly seen in the distance, she neared the localisation that you sent her, it wasn’t hard to miss the absolute train wreck of what seemed to be a car crash ahead of her, Mapi pulled up, close to the scene. She got out of her car, running towards the collision, red and blue lights flashed, two cars were crashed against each other, it looked like one of them quite literally rammed into the other one, there was an ambulance, where he could see a couple of paramedics rushing here and there, and finally there was a cop car, one cop was speaking with a civilian who was leaning against the ambulance, they had some bandages on them, but it seemed like they were the less hurt party in all of this.
Even if it sounded bad taken out of context Mapi couldn’t care less about them or anything else than finding you right now, she ran up to one of the paramedics, asking all about you, if they knew anything, “There’s a woman inside the ambulance-“ the paramedic told her, Mapi didn’t even want to listen to them finishing their sentence, she hurried to look inside the ambulance. Surely there was a woman inside…but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t possible for you not to be here, where the hell were you?! Her hands were shaking, were you dead? You couldn’t be, she walked further…then she felt as if a massive rock was taken off her heart, she was you sitting on the roadside, your head in your hands, you were patched up, some bandages on your legs, but what made Mapi feel at ease was the fact that you seemed to be doing alright, she ran up to you, gripping your shoulders with her hands, you looked up at her clearly startled but your gaze softens slightly as you realized it was Mapi.
Mapi looked you up, searching for any wounds, cuts or anything of that kind, she was glad to see that you were still pretty much in tact. “Jesus Christ Y/n! I- I was so goddamn scared!” She exclaimed barely catching her breath, “What happened..please I’m begging you tell me!” Tears started rolling down your cheeks, covering the dried tracks of the small droplets from before you saw Mapi, “I’m..I’m not sure Mapi It- It was all so sudden” your voice broke as you tried to come up with anything that had sense to tell her. Mapi cradled your face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away the salty tears “Alright- Alright- listen please just tell me if everything’s alright Y/n, I was so scared…I knew something went wrong I just wasn’t…expecting all of this, please tell me you’re fine!” You sniffed, quickly nodding your head in a “yes” motion. “Dios mío…” Mapi muttered to herself
“Y/n I’m glad, seriously I’m glad, I don’t know what the hell I’d do if something was wrong..” Mapi revealed, a single tear running down her cheek, “Come here you big dummy…” she sniffed as she finally smiled, Mapi’s arms lowered slightly resting lower back on your back, she pulled you against her, wanting to hold you tight as if to ensure that some imaginary hurricane wouldn’t just come and snatch you away, she was tired from worrying the entire day.
The second she pulled you against her you suddenly felt a piercing pain go through your body like an arrow. You winced loudly in pain, Mapi’s heart started beating abnormally again, she looked at you, her eyes wide like cherry pies. “Y/n? Y/n?! What was that? What happened?” She started blabbering any word that came to mind as she tried searching for any way to do something, you started sobbing, tears falling like rain, staining your shirt that was already slightly dirty from the car crash.
The first logical step was to take you to the goddamn hospital, Mapi had to pick you up, lead you there- do anything to get you there without accidentally hurting you more. “Where does it hurt? I have to take you to my car, we HAVE to go to the hospital Y/n” Mapi asked, you managed to choke out a “My shoulder…” through tears, Mapi wrapped her arm around your waist, making sure your “safe” side could lean on her. “It’ll be alright, ok? I promise you Y/n, everything is going to be fine, you’ll be fine” with that she helped you somehow make your way to her car, Mapi supported you with each step the two of you took, finally the two of you got into her car, she wasted no time in immediately speeding off towards the closest hospital, the only thought keeping her going was getting you help. As Mapi was driving with you wincing and still crying from the pain next to her on the passengers seat she suddenly heard her phone buzzing, she guessed it must’ve been someone from Barça, the coach, Alexia maybe someone else…but there were too many things going on right now for her to be able to pick it up, she’d call later.
The white walls and typical sterile scent wasn’t comforting at all, Mapi was sitting in a chair outside of your hospital room…you had to get a scan right now, the doctors concluded that a dislocated joint could’ve been the cause of your sudden pain, then Mapi remembered she was supposed to check who was calling her earlier…she took out the sleek device from her pocket and checked missed calls, surely it was one of her teammates; Keira, Mapi pressed the contact to call her back, Keira answered quite quickly .
“Maps! What’s going on? We’re all worried over here!” She heard Keira’s voice on the other end, Mapi took a deep breath before beginning to tell her what just happened.
“Yeah…they said it’s possibly a joint, the doctor assured me that she should be fine though” Mapi said with a hint of disdain for the possibility that her friend’s state could be worse, Keira sighed. “We have to trust them Mapi…alright I don’t want to keep you up so long, we’ll talk later, yeah?” Mapi answered simply “Yeah…later” before hanging up. Just then she saw you being escorted back into the room, Mapi’s heart dropped, she hated seeing you like this, hurt and helpless, “Can I come in? That’s my friend” She asked on of the nurses, the woman nodded, and so she waited as the nurses put you back onto your bed and left the room.
“Did they tell you anything, Y/n?” Mapi immediately asked as she pulled up a stool for herself to sit on, you nooded, “Yep…” you turned your head to look at Mapi “Dislocated shoulder, I should be fine though, already got all the necessary things scheduled…I definitely feel better tho- thanks to you Mapi” you added and smiled weakly, Mapi laughed gently, she carefully tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
“I was so worried, everyone thought I was going to lose it…” she chuckled
“I’m already imagining that…” you laughed with her as well “But there’s no need to worry anymore Mapi.”
#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#barca femeni x reader#barca women#woso x reader#woso community#woso fanfics#fanfic#wlw#alexia putellas#keira walsh#ingrid engen#woso appreciation#angst with a happy ending
297 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweets
C/TW: Mentions of sex but otherwise nothing bad.
Nah but imagine Vox knowing you have a crush on him and he’s thinking like, yeah I could take advantage of this—meaning ‘hell yeah I get laid and an attractive partner? Sign me up’. Regardless of what your relationship with him is, he is interested and down to fuck and have a possible sexual relationship with you from here on out. So he makes his move by inviting you to his personal living quarters in the Vee Tower. You walk in, heart fluttering about at the prospect your crush wanting to spend time with you, and are quickly met with Vox. He of course puts the moves on you; charming smirk, the correct choice of words, arm wrapping around your hips or your waist as he pulls you in closer to him. He hints at something—a burning desire. You’re flustered in his arms. He’s thinking, yeah he’s got this in the bag. But then you push on his chest and unwrap yourself from his arm. Wait what? “Vox,”—You’d start, “I’m flattered but…I’m not that kind of person.” You then excuse yourself and before Vox knows it, he’s standing alone in his living quarters. You’re into him? He knows this. What happened? Despite his annoyances with the results, he still persists. He spends the next several weeks trying to seduce you, flirting with you very sexually—not Valentino level but still sexually charged. Yet every time he gets shot down. One day he’s ranting to Velvette about it to which she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “Is sex the only thing you can think about?” Velvette whips out her phone, pulling up your social media pages, all your likes, comments, reposts, music playlists, shows and movies you watch, ect,. “They’re a romantic—A fucking sweet one at that. Taking advantage of their feelings just so you can get your dick wet whenever you want isn’t gonna get you anywhere, darling.” Vox spends a few days thinking it over. Okay so a more romantic approach. But he tried inviting you over! He even set the mood and everything. Though it was with the hope that…it would quickly lead to having you naked on his bed. He probably has some sort of mental war with himself about it too. Like why’s he trying so hard? It isn’t until he spots you on one of his cameras where he realizes he may want something much more than just sex with you. But is it too late? Did all his attempts at wooing you really scare you away? He watched with bated breath as you sat on a water fountain, gingerly typing away on your phone. You were wearing the loveliest looking spring dress/shirt. You looked so…beautiful. So sweet. So innocent. And romantic. A type of romance that seemed like it didn’t exist in hell. He was so mesmerized he didn’t even realize a second figure coming to sit next to you. He only realized when you put your phone down and smiled sweetly at the person. Who was this person? Why are you so close together? Why do you look like you’re blushing—? Oh. It’s a date.
As a hopeless romantic, reading Vox x Reader fics and so many of them having some kind of sexual undertone or more mature tone makes me kind of sad. I truly love tooth rotting fluffy romance. Think—picnic in a cherry blossom field while wearing the strawberry dress. So I wanted to write a little (not so little, it kinda got away from me) imagine where Vox’s idea of romance clashes with readers and it ends up only pushing them away. So yeah. Here’s that. I mean no disrespect to everyone’s fics of them tho—trust me they’re delicious in every way possible but I just really need to feed my hopeless sweet romantic side for a bit <3
#hazbin hotel#x reader#vox#hazbin hotel vox x reader#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel x reader#fluff#kinda angsty#I really wanted a more sweet fun innocent love okay lol#in my delusions he calls me sweetheart
544 notes
·
View notes
Text
my heart burns there too
steddie | rating: t | wc: 4,7k | cw: none | tags: misunderstandings, light angst, pining, eddie jumps into some crazy ass conclusions, but it’s all good in the end
for @steddie-spooktober day eight, prompt “bonfire”
read on ao3 here
The bonfire is Robin’s idea, but Steve is who extends the invitation to Eddie when he stops by Family Video one day.
“A bonfire? Won’t that get us arrested?” He asks, leaning on the counter and watching Steve operate the tape rewinder with a bored expression.
“Nah, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “Hopper is Chief again and you’d be surprised by how easy it is to get him off your back if you play the ‘I fought monsters with your kid’ card.”
Eddie lets out a snort. “Wish I had that all those times that he picked me up for dealing.”
Steve sniggers. The tape rewinder makes a loud clicking sound, signaling that it’s finished, and Steve removes the tape, putting it back in its case before rewinding a new one. “So are you in?”
“Sure,” Eddie says, never one to turn down the opportunity to spend time with Steve— and Robin, of course. “But I’m not holding hands with you and Buckley and singing Kumbaya.”
For some reason, that makes Steve blush. He ducks his head, fiddling with another tape. “Um, well, it’s not just us, Nance is coming too.”
Ah, Eddie thinks, now the blush makes more sense.
He tries not to let his disappointment show. He doesn’t want Steve to think he has anything against Nancy because the truth is that he doesn’t. Nancy is great— she’s nice, she’s smart and she’s fucking badass. He wasn’t lying during that Spring Break from Hell when he told Steve that he should win her back, Wheeler is a fucking catch. Even Eddie, gay as fuck as he is, can see it.
Only now things are different. Not the fact that Nancy is a catch, she still is. But now she’s single, and she and Steve have been inseparable since she ended things with Jonathan.
Oh, and now Eddie is stupidly and hopelessly in love with Steve so he’s just waiting for the day when they finally announce that they’re back together and break Eddie’s heart.
He doesn’t know what they’re waiting for and he kinda wishes they would just get the fuck on with it. At least then, Eddie could stomp down any hope of anything ever happening between him and Steve. Right now they’re in a weird limbo where some days Eddie will catch Steve’s gaze flickering down to his lips or he’ll feel his touches linger a little too long and he’ll think maybe, but then he’ll walk into Steve’s kitchen to find Nancy and Steve whispering with their heads pushed together only for them to break apart and go quiet the moment they see him or he’ll try to make plans with Steve only to watch him fumble for an excuse before admitting he’s hanging out with Nancy. And every time his heart shatters a little, so better to just rip the bandage off once and for all.
“Eds?”
Steve’s voice snaps Eddie out of his thoughts and he realizes that he fell uncharacteristically quiet at the mention of Nancy. So much for acting like he doesn’t have a problem with her. Goddammit.
He plasters a smile on his face. “Wheeler is coming, you say? Great! The more the merrier!” He says, hoping it sounds convincing enough. “Should I bring something? Lighter fluid? Marshmallows? Child sacrifices?”
A woman standing to the side of the counter, letting the kid in her arms pick something from the candy display gasps audibly, scowling at Eddie and switching the toddler from one arm to the other, further away from him.
Whoops.
Steve gives him a look— why are you like this? it says. Eddie shrugs.
“Just bring drinks, okay?” Steve whispers to him after giving the woman a placating smile.
“Sure thing, big boy,” he says, delighting in the baffled little pout Steve makes every time Eddie calls him that. “Anything else?”
“Well,” Steve purses his lips, thinking. “I’ve got everything we need for the bonfire, Rob is bringing the music and Nance is in charge of the snacks.”
“Tell her I want s’mores.”
“She’s way ahead of you, man,” Steve says with a chuckle. Eddie’s eye twitches— of course perfect Nancy already picked the perfect snacks.
Nancy isn’t your problem, Eddie reminds himself, the problem is that Steve’s straight and still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and frankly, out of your league.
He sighs. “Sweet, I’ll see you and the ladies on Friday then.”
“Oh, you’re leaving already?” Steve asks, sounding almost disappointed. Other than the woman and her child, the store is empty and has been for the entire time Eddie has been here. He’s probably dreading being alone for the rest of a slow shift.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, “I promised Red I’d drive her to the skatepark and if I’m late to pick her up, she’ll beat me to death with her skateboard and I’m too pretty to die.”
Steve smiles at him, that little lopsided smile that Eddie likes to believe is reserved just for him. He’s never seen him smile like that at anyone else— fond, amused, endeared. “Yeah, you are,” he says and winks.
Eddie’s breath hitches, his traitorous heart thinks maybe but his brain stomps down that hope real quick.
“Careful, Stevie, or Wheeler might get jealous,” he jokes but it doesn’t come out as lighthearted as he wishes.
Steve’s eyebrows furrow but before he can say anything else, a group of kids comes barrelling through the door followed by an exhausted parent and they all walk up to the counter to ask Steve for recommendations for their movie night.
Eddie quietly slips away from the counter, giving Steve a lazy salute and getting a finger wiggle in return before the kids loudly demand his attention.
Six little nuggets, Eddie thinks, recalling a conversation between Steve and Nancy that he wasn’t supposed to hear.
His heart breaks a little more. He wonders how long it’ll take before it shatters completely.
***
To no one’s surprise, Eddie is the last one to arrive at the bonfire.
He parks his van between Steve’s car and Nancy’s station wagon at the spot Steve circled on a map when he gave Eddie directions. After swinging his guitar over his shoulder and grabbing the cooler filled with sodas and beer, he follows the smell of smoke and the sound of Buckley’s boombox through the woods.
He spots Robin first— feeding dry leaves and twigs into the fire and singing along to some pop song Eddie doesn’t recognize.
Eddie whistles appreciatively. “That’s one impressive fire, Birdie!”
Robin jumps, dropping the leaves and the twigs to the ground with a startled yelp. When she spots Eddie, her face breaks into a big grin and she clumsily steps over the logs arranged around the bonfire to hug him as best as she can with the cooler between them and Eddie’s guitar on his back.
“You made it! And you brought your guitar!” She says, bouncing on her feet with excitement.
“Yup, there’s no way I’m letting you make my ears bleed by listening to pop tunes all night,” he teases and gets a light punch on his arm for it.
“I didn’t know you could play metal with just an acoustic.”
“Metal isn’t all I know, Birdie, I have hidden depths,” he says, thinking about all the country and folk songs he knows thanks to Wayne.
Robin cackles. “Sure you do, Munson.”
He sticks his tongue out at her and then glances around, looking for Steve and Nancy but they’re nowhere to be seen.
“They’re picking up more wood,” Robin says when she notices him looking. “They should be back soon.”
Unless they got distracted making out, Eddie thinks, biting down on his tongue to not let the bitter comment slip past his lips.
As if on cue, they hear leaves rustling and then Nancy and Steve step out from the treeline. Steve is carrying the wood and Eddie gets to enjoy the way his biceps bulge from the weight before his eyes zero in on Nancy’s tiny hand wrapped around Steve’s arm. They’re in deep conversation, Steve listening intently and nodding as Nancy speaks to him with a soft voice, her hand never leaving his arm. They don’t even notice he’s there until Robin points it out.
“Hey! Look who’s here!” She says, oblivious to the downward turn of Eddie’s mouth.
Both Nancy and Steve’s heads snap in their direction and Eddie tries really hard to school his features into something casual and less green-eyed monster.
Nancy’s hand falls from Steve’s arm and the pile of wood he’s carrying falters a little before Steve hoists it up again, biceps flexing. Eddie tears his eyes from his arms to look at his face, expecting him to look like he just spent the last ten minutes making out with Nancy or like he just got caught red-handed but instead, he’s grinning widely at Eddie, eyes twinkling under the moonlight.
“Hey, Eds!” He says, attempting to wave with his elbow but giving up when a piece of wood falls to the ground, his cheeks pinking up in embarrassment. “Shit, Nance, can you—” he starts but Nancy is already picking it up and placing it back on the top of the pile. “Thanks.”
Eddie carelessly drops the cooler in front of him. “Hey, Stevie. Hey, Wheeler,” he says, sweeping down in an over dramatic bow. “I come bearing drinks.”
Robin whoops, throwing the lid open and grabbing a wine cooler while Nancy picks up a beer.
Steve forgoes the cooler, dropping the wood on the ground next to it and walking around it to pull Eddie into a hug.
It takes him a little by surprise but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers against Steve's neck, feeling him shudder, probably from the cold. He's only wearing a polo shirt, and despite the fire burning next to them, Eddie feels a slight chill in the air even though his jacket. “You smell like smoke.”
Steve snorts. “Oh, so I smell like you?”
It’s Eddie’s turn to shudder as his brain provides a handful of other reasons why Steve would smell like him. He tells his lizard brain to cool it and pulls back. “Yup, exactly! And you should know the smell is a bitch to get rid of.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Steve says, shrugging. With a wink, he adds, “I like it.”
Which to Eddie sounds flirty and a lot like ‘I like the way you smell’ and it takes his brain a moment to recover from that, but he does it just in time to catch the beer Steve tosses at him, even if he fumbles with it at first.
“You did a good job with the fire, Stevie,” he says, expertly popping the bottle open and gulping half of it down.
He catches Steve watching his throat as he drinks and the way he gives a little shake of his head before glancing at the bonfire. “You only say that because you didn’t see my first two failed attempts,” he chuckles. “It was actually Nancy who got it going.”
Eddie’s grip on the bottle tightens. “What would we do without her?” He says, voice a little clipped.
Steve’s smile falters but luckily doesn’t ask what Eddie’s problem is. “So are you gonna play for us?” He asks instead, gesturing at the guitar still hanging from his shoulder.
“Not just yet, Stevie. I was promised snacks, I’m hungry.”
“Me too!” Robin jumps in.
“Oh, the snacks are in the car,” Nancy says, digging through her bag for the keys. “I’ll go get them!”
“It’s okay, Nance. Eddie and I can go,” Steve volunteers, and with a secretive smile, Nancy tosses him the keys.
“Don’t forget you gotta—”
“Jiggle the key to open the trunk, I know,” Steve finishes with a smirk.
Eddie doesn’t realize he’s pouting until Steve points it out. Luckily he thinks it’s because he volunteered Eddie to get the snack too, and not because Steve is finishing Nancy’s sentences. “Stop pouting, Eds, it’s not that far.”
“You only say that because you didn’t have to carry a cooler and a guitar all the way here,” Eddie responds snarkily before setting his beer down on the ground and falling into step next to Steve.
“I’ll do the heavy lifting this time,” Steve smirks.
Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm, feeling the taut muscle underneath. “Seems like you already have, big boy,” he says, his voice coming out lower and flirty now that they left Nancy at the bonfire.
With an undignified yelp, Steve trips over something and Eddie, who hadn’t let go of his arm yet, tightens his grip to keep him on his feet.
“Careful, sweetheart,” Eddie says and Steve curses under his breath. Maybe his foot got caught on a root and he hurt himself— it’s hard to see the ground when all they have is the moonlight filtering through the trees. “You okay?”
“Yup, yeah, thanks, man,” Steve stammers out, giving Eddie a tight smile. “Come on, we don’t want to keep Robin waiting, you know how she gets when she’s hungry.”
Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah, I know. I still have her bite mark on my fucking arm,” he says, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to point out the fading bruise from their last movie night when the pizza was taking too long to get there and Buckley decided to chump on his arm. “As if getting chumped on by demobats wasn’t enough!”
Steve sniggers. His eyes sparkle with something when he says, “Don’t think I can blame her for wanting a piece of you, though,” matching Eddie’s tone from before— low and flirty.
Eddie’s eyes widen, he stops looking at where he’s going to gawk at Steve and trips on a rock. With no one grabbing his arm, he goes down, landing on his hands and knees.
“Motherfucker,” he curses, his face burning with embarrassment.
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve mutters, hurrying to help him up.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” he laments with a chuckle, brushing off dirt from his pants and his hands.
“You okay?” Steve asks softly and then Eddie feels hands cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up until he meets Steve’s eyes. “You didn’t hit your head?”
Eddie shakes his head no, but the truth is he isn’t exactly sure— maybe he hit his head and now he’s hallucinating how close their faces are or how Steve’s eyes linger a little too long on his lips as they dart over his face, looking for any sign that Eddie hurt himself.
“Um,” Eddie clears his throat which feels a little dry. “We should get those snacks before the girls send a search party after us.”
Steve nods, and after letting his right thumb brush over Eddie’s cheekbone once, he drops his hands from his face.
Heat builds up on Eddie’s face, making his cheeks burn hotter than the bonfire.
They stay like that all the way to Nancy’s car.
***
Back at the bonfire, Robin snatches the marshmallows from Eddie’s arms. “What took you guys so long?” She asks, ripping the bag open and unceremoniously shoving one into her mouth.
“Gee, and they call me feral!” Eddie says and is rewarded by Robin hitting him with the bag of giant marshmallows. It doesn’t hurt, they’re marshmallows, but Eddie is nothing if not dramatic.
He grabs his arm where she hit him and falls to his knees, as if wounded. “This is what I get for braving the woods at night for your snacks, Lady Buckley? The nerve, the ungratefulness! I shall never recover!”
Robin lets out a giggly snort. She offers him a marshmallow on a stick for him to roast as an apology which he graciously accepts.
When he looks up, he finds Steve looking down at him with an amused expression. “Why do you insist on dropping to your knees in the middle of the woods? Your jeans are ripped enough as it is!”
Eddie’s mouth acts faster than his brain, leering at Steve as he says, “You don't like how I look on my knees, sweetheart?”
Steve’s eyes widen almost comically, his cheeks flaring an alarming shade of red. Eddie doesn’t get to enjoy the sight of a flustered Steve for long, his head snapping to his right when there’s a loud gasp that doesn’t come from either of them.
His eyes meet Nancy’s wide ones as they dart from Steve to Eddie to Eddie’s knees and back at Steve, her lips mouthing a silent, “Oh.”
Oh? Eddie thinks, ‘Oh’ what?
She can’t possibly mean— even if Steve said this isn’t the first time Eddie drops to his knees tonight, she can’t possibly think— oh Christ, does she?
Eddie is about to blurt out something along the lines of, ‘I didn’t blow your secret boyfriend in the woods, I just wish I did’ when Nancy’s eyes meet Steve’s and out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees Steve firmly shake his head. That seems to be enough for Nancy, whose shocked expression melts away as she stands up and joins Robin where she’s roasting her marshmallow.
Eddie sits back on his heels with a sigh.
“You okay?” Steve asks, knocking his Nike against Eddie’s leg.
No, your girlfriend just thought you cheated on her with me! Eddie wants to say. “Yup, come on, let’s make some s’mores,” he says instead, pushing himself off the ground to go sit on one of the logs arranged around the bonfire.
He expects Steve to sit with Nancy, to appease her further but he sits next to Eddie, leaving no space between them despite there being plenty of room.
Eddie doesn’t mind, he loves having Steve close. Still, he can’t help but send surreptitious glances at Nancy every once in a while, averting his eyes when he finds her staring right back a few times.
He stops glancing at her when he gets distracted by Steve eating his s’mores— more specifically by him messily licking his lips and fingers clean. Not even his own marshmallow catching on fire can make Eddie tear his gaze away from Steve’s tongue lapping at the melted chocolate on his fingers, not until Robin screeches and points at the blackened little thing at the end of Eddie’s stick.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie curses as he pulls it out of the fire to blow on it, extinguishing the flames. Next to him, Steve laughs, lips stretched in a smug smile that it’s a little too knowing.
Holding the stick between his legs, Eddie squeezes the marshmallow between the crackers and the chocolate before taking a bite. There’s a slight burnt taste to it but it’s still good, so Eddie eats it enthusiastically.
He can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he does and he considers putting on a show like he did— licking and sucking on his fingers in an obscene way. But before he can, Steve is reaching out and wiping chocolate from Eddie’s bottom lip with his thumb.
Eddie’s breath hitches, his eyes widening.
Red blooms on Steve’s cheeks and he drops his hand to his lap. “Uh, you had chocolate on your lip.”
“Thanks, Stevie,” Eddie mumbles. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna— I need a beer.”
He scrambles to his feet, stepping over Steve to get to the cooler. He nearly drops the beer when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at him, lips pursed and a tiny frown between her eyebrows.
Did she see Steve do that? Is she mad? Eddie wonders, averting his eyes and staring at the flames instead.
And more importantly— what the fuck is Steve playing at?
***
Eddie finally gets his answer about an hour later.
The four of them are sitting around the bonfire, drinking beer and talking about everything and nothing. Robin and Nancy are sharing a blanket they grabbed from Steve’s trunk because, despite the fire that’s still burning, the air has only turned colder as the night goes on. Eddie is sharing a log with Steve— or he was until Steve stood up to put on his Members Only jacket and sat down on the ground instead, leaning against Eddie’s leg.
Eddie didn’t question it at first, assuming that Steve wanted to be closer to the fire while still leeching some of Eddie’s body heat, which is fine by him. But then Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie’s calf and dropped his head on Eddie’s thigh, essentially cuddling Eddie’s leg.
That’s also fine with Eddie. At least until Steve’s hand starts rubbing up and down Eddie’s leg, his fingers occasionally coming in contact with bare skin where his jeans ride up and his sock rides down while, at the same time, his hair is tickling Eddie’s skin through the rips in his jeans.
He reaches for Steve’s hair, intending to move it away from his leg but the moment his fingers touch the strands, Steve shudders and melts under the touch. Eddie doesn’t have the heart to push Steve’s head away so he ends up playing with his hair instead, brushing his fingers through the strands.
It’s maddening. All of it— Steve’s head on his lap, his fingers in Steve’s hair and the small noises it drags from him, Steve’s fingers playing with his ankle bracelet and his wiry leg hairs.
Suddenly, Eddie feels hot all over, and it has nothing to do with the flames bathing them in red and yellow and orange. And when Steve tilts his head and kisses Eddie’s knee it feels as if he might burst into flames.
But when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at them with what can only be described as a scowl —a jealous scowl— it’s like being hit in the face with cold water. Cold water and a realization. The realization that Steve might be doing all this to make Nancy jealous.
Eddie doesn’t know why exactly. Maybe he’s ready to go public with their relationship and he’s trying to bait Nancy into accepting. Maybe he’s getting back at her for whatever happened with Jonathan when she was still dating Steve. Maybe it’s just a weird fucking kind of foreplay.
It doesn’t matter what it is, Eddie knows he doesn’t want to be a part of it.
So he pulls his hand away from Steve’s hair, and as carefully as he can, jerks his leg free.
Steve turns his head, looking up at Eddie with big confused eyes. “You okay, Eds?”
“I, um. I need to smoke,” he lies, scrambling to his feet.
Steve looks even more confused at that. “You can do it here, you know? We literally all smell like smoke already,” he says with a chuckle.
But Eddie shakes his head. “No, I- I gotta go, sorry, Steve,” he stammers out, tripping on the log as he hastily heads back to the van.
Without stopping, he digs a cigarette and hiz Zippo from his jacket, lighting it up as he walks. He hears Steve call out for him once, twice then nothing. Eddie pretends it doesn’t hurt that he didn’t come after him but he’s got Nancy, so why would he?
“Goddammit,” Eddie curses, running his hands through his hair with a frustrated groan, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.
It falls on the ground when Eddie lets out a strangled scream as Steve materializes out of fucking nowhere.
He hurriedly snuffs it out as he tries to get his heartbeat under control. “The bonfire wasn’t enough, Harrington?” He scoffs. “Are you trying to get me to start a real fire sneaking up on me like that?”
“I didn’t sneak up. I was calling for you.”
Oh. Eddie might’ve missed that from the blood rushing through his ears. “What do you want?”
“Why are you leaving? What happened?” When Eddie doesn’t answer, Steve’s face scrunches up. “Did I do something?”
Whatever Eddie’s face does at that is answer enough and Steve’s shoulders slump. “Shit, was that too much— I’m sorry, Eddie, I thought—”
“That you could use me to make your girlfriend jealous? Yeah, well, a heads up would’ve been nice,” Eddie says bitterly.
Steve jerks his head back as if he’s been slapped. “What?”
“I’m just saying that I probably would’ve said yes if you asked. At least then I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, y’know?”
“I- I don’t know, Eddie, what are you talking about?”
Rolling his eyes, Eddie asks, “You were trying to make Nancy jealous by being all over me, yeah?”
Steve splutters. “Uh, no?”
Eddie frowns. “So what? You guys are in an open relationship or something?”
“We’re not in any kind of relationship!” Steve says, his voice loud and hysterical at this point.
“Please!” Eddie scoffs. “You two have been inseparable since she and Jonathan broke up! It’s obvious you’re back together!”
“We’re not, Eddie, we’re friends! Yeah, we’re closer than we were before but that’s just because—” he hesitates.
“Because?” Eddie prompts with an impatient hand gesture.
Steve sighs, glances over his shoulder to where Nancy and Robin are and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, what the hell!” He says to himself. “We got closer because we both realized we have a crush on our best friend.”
Eddie’s nose wrinkles. “Buckley?”
“No,” Steve says, dragging a hand down his face. “Well, Nancy does. She has a crush on Robin and I hope she’s telling her right now and that she won’t care that I just outed her to you—” His eyes meet Eddie’s and they’re open, vulnerable, hopeful. “But no, I don’t have a crush on Robin, Eddie, I have a crush on you.”
Eddie blinks. Then he blinks again. Then he pinches his arm hard but the world doesn’t fade away, he doesn’t wake up, he’s not dreaming. This is happening.
“Me?” He asks in a small voice. Steve nods. “So all of that— you weren’t making Nancy jealous you were—”
“Making a move on you, yeah,” Steve admits shyly, hanging a hand from his neck.
“Oh,” he says as he recontextualizes everything that has happened in the last couple of hours— hell, in the last couple of weeks. “Oh,” he repeats. “For what it’s worth it would’ve worked. If I wasn’t, you know, an idiot.”
Steve chuckles softly. “Well, good to know.”
Eddie bites his lip and goes on, a little nervous. “Yeah, and since I’m not an idiot anymore, if you wanted to like, make another move right now, I wouldn’t storm off or yell at you or—”
Eddie’s words are cut off by Steve making his move, which consists of him cupping Eddie’s cheeks, guiding his face to his and catching Eddie’s lips in a kiss.
Eddie stands frozen only for a split second before he loops his arms over Steve’s shoulders and kisses him back, feeling a fire bigger than any bonfire they could’ve built blaze wildly in his chest.
Steve dragging his teeth across his bottom lip only fuels the fire and causes Eddie to make a punched-out groaning sound that Steve chases with his tongue, deepening the kiss in a way that makes Eddie’s knees so weak they threaten to give out.
Before they do, causing Eddie to fall on them for a third time that night, Steve slows the kiss down to a full stop, ending it by nuzzling their noses together.
“You still are by the way,” Steve says.
“Huh?”
“An idiot,” he says, kissing the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I can’t believe you thought I’d use you to make Nancy jealous!”
Eddie groans, dropping his head on Steve’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”
Steve wraps his arms around him, kissing his hair. “Nope.”
“Yeah, I deserve that,” he says, nuzzling Steve’s neck. He jerks his head back as he thinks of something— “Wait, if Nancy wasn’t jealous then what’s with all the scowls and the glares?”
“Oh, she was jealous. Of me. For making a move on you while all she did was share a blanket with Robin,” Steve says with a laugh.
And Eddie can’t help but giggle at how ridiculous this all is. “Should we make her jealous a little more?” He asks, grabbing Steve’s hand with a wicked grin.
Steve nods, intertwining their fingers together and letting Eddie drag him back towards the bonfire.
***
They find Robin and Nancy making out next to what’s left of the fire, wrapped up in the blanket and each other. Quietly, they make their way back to the cars, climbing into the back of Eddie’s van, kissing until the sun comes up.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddiespooktober#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie's brain's overthinking gymnastics deserve an olympic medal#also i'm late again what else is new bla bla enjoy x#steve harrington#eddie munson#monse writes
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Aw, hell," Daryl drawled, dropping his bag on the floor. "What's this?"
You and Dog were cuddled up in the bed, snuggled under Daryl's blankets.
"I leave for one day and ya've already replaced me?" he drawled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile as he paced over to the edge of the bed.
You sunk your fingers into Dog's thick fur and smiled up at Daryl. "Please. You're absolutely irreplaceable. Dog was just keeping your spot warm while you were out."
"Yeah, sure... Alrigh' ya mangy mutt. Off!" Dog let out a soft boof. "Nah! I said off! She ain't yers, she's mine!" he argued with the Malinois, causing you to giggle at the exchange. "Dog! Get down! Now! Off!" With another bark and unhappy backtalk growl, Dog finally leapt off the bed and went to lay on the rug. Daryl looked at the spot where he'd been. "Keepin' my spot warm... and full of dog hair, huh?" He ran a hand over the sheets next to you. "Sand? Dammit. Bed's filthy," Daryl said, shooting you a look.
You gave him a sheepish smile. "Oops. I may have taken him to swim in the river. I didn't realize he brought the beach home."
Daryl laughed, a deep, gruff, hearty noise that you loved more than life. "Yer worse than he is," he drawled, leaning toward you to capture your lips in a kiss, his fingers floating to clasp your face and then rest gently along the curve of your neck. "Are ya filthy too?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.
You grinned and bit your bottom lip. "I might be. What of it?"
"Better take ya to get cleaned up righ' now then. C'mon. Shower time," he said, starting to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you toward the edge of the bed.
You laughed with delight as Daryl descended on you and then yelled with surprise as Dog launched himself back onto the bed, hopping back and forth over you and Daryl, barking and bouncing on the bed, clearly needing to be involved. "Dog! Enough!" Daryl yelled at him through his own laughter, thrusting an arm out as the Malinois playfully charged toward him. "Dog! Quiet! Jesus Christ! Off!"
"He doesn't like how you're manhandling me," you laughed.
"Get down," Daryl barked back at Dog, grabbing his collar and gently tugging him off the bed again. "Manhandlin' ya? I'll manhandle ya..." His lips descended on your neck and you were more than happy to have them and his hands back on you.
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#twd fanfics#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl imagines#daryl x y/n#fanfics#writers of tumblr#twd drabbles
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Peek-a-Boo
Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. The mission had been straightforward, but those never stayed simple, did they? Gambit crouched behind a stack of crates, the darkened corridor barely lit by flickering emergency lights. His breath was steady, but his mind raced. He’d been separated from the team, and worse, he had no idea where she was. Y/N.
He had been keeping tabs on everyone, but somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, she’d vanished. His heartbeat quickened at the thought of her lost, maybe hurt. The usual cool confidence he carried with him was slipping. He was tweaking bad. But Remy knew he had to stay sharp, stay focused. Losing his cool wouldn’t do Y/N or anyone any good.
The soft crackle of a radio broke through the silence, but it was faint—too faint to get anything useful. Gambit grimaced and pushed onward, moving through the shadows like a ghost. He knew how to stay invisible when he needed to, but this time, it wasn’t a game. He needed to find her.
He could feel his nerves tightening, something he wasn’t used to. They’d always had their little game—sneaking up on each other during missions. He’d lean in, whisper “Peek-a-boo” in her ear, and she’d respond with “I see you,” the two of them sharing a playful smile before moving on to whatever danger awaited. It was their thing.
But now? Now there was no playful whisper, no lighthearted moment. Just silence, and the gnawing worry that something had gone wrong. Gambit wasn’t the type to lose his edge, but right now, his usual swagger was being replaced by something darker—fear.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, ducking into another hallway. His mind raced with a thousand possibilities—each one worse than the last. He shook his head trying to rid of those thoughts, not Y/N. Not his chér.
Then he heard it. A quiet shuffle behind him. He spun around, cards charged and ready, but before he could react, a pair of hands covered his eyes.
“Peek-a-boo.”
For a split second, Gambit’s heart stopped. His body froze as his mind caught up with the fact that she was there, right behind him. He let out a shaky breath, and a grin spread across his face, relief flooding his chest like cool water after a blistering heat.
He reached up, taking her hands off his eyes and spinning around. “I see you, chérie,” he breathed, his voice low and full of emotions he didn’t usually let surface.
Y/N smiled at him, though he could tell she’d been through the ringer. Her hair was a little messy, and there was dirt on her cheek, but she was very much alive.
“Aww, were you worried Remy?” she teased lightly, though her own eyes glimmered with relief.
“Worried? Nah,” he lied, the smirk returning to his lips. “Gambit don’t worry ‘bout nothin’.” But even as he said it, the way his hands lingered on her arms told the truth. He’d been scared as hell.
Y/N chuckled softly, but her hand reached up to touch his cheek for just a moment, a silent thank you for the unspoken concern. Gambit gave her a lopsided grin, his nerves finally settling, but just beneath the surface, he knew—this was no game anymore.
“Next time, don’t wander off too far from Gambit, huh?” he said, his voice more serious than usual.
“I’ll won’t go to far, promise.” she replied, her smile soft but firm.
“Cher…” Gambit spoke again, this time his voice soft.
“Yeah?” Y/N hummed looking him in his eyes.
Gambit let out a deep sigh, cupping her girls cheek with his hand.
Gambit’s thumb continued to trace soft circles on her cheek, and the air between them grew thick with unspoken feelings. His eyes, usually dancing with mischief, were serious now, searching her face like he was memorizing every detail. He leaned in, just enough that their foreheads brushed together, his breath warm against her lips.
"Good, chérie. Let’s keep it that way," he murmured again, his voice barely audible, filled with a quiet intensity.
Y/N’s heart raced, the closeness making her head spin in a way that had nothing to do with the mission. Her hand slid up to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, steady but strong. She didn’t say anything—she didn’t need to. The way her eyes softened and the way her lips parted slightly was enough to tell him everything.
Gambit hesitated for just a fraction of a second, like he was giving her a chance to pull away. But when she didn’t, when her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, that was all the invitation he needed.
He closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was gentle at first, as if testing the waters. But the second he felt her respond, he deepened it, his other hand sliding around her waist, pulling her closer.
“Remy—” Y/N let out a breathy sigh, her voice trembling slightly.
Gambit held her close, his gaze pouring into hers, every second feeling like it stretched out between them. “Shh, chére… *Je veux savourer ce moment au cas où je n'aurais pas l'occasion de le faire à nouveau*,” he whispered, his accent thick, the French words slipping from his lips with an intimacy that made her pulse race.
She smiled softly and pecked his lips once more, a lingering touch before pulling back, her hand gently slipping from his chest. “We need to get back to the others,” she murmured, her breath still unsteady but her resolve strong.
Gambit sighed deeply, his arms loosening around her. He knew she was right, but he didn’t want to let her go—not yet. “D'accord, chérie,” he said reluctantly, his smirk returning as his hand brushed her cheek one last time. “But this ain’t over.”
Y/N chuckled softly, giving him one last look before turning to lead the way, her heart still pounding from the kiss, knowing they had a mission to finish but also knowing things between them would never be the same.
#gambit x reader#gambit x y/n#remy lebeau x reader#remy lebeau#Remy x reader#remy lebeau x you#gambit x you#xmen x you#xmen x reader#x men 97#gambit xmen#gambit#x reader#female reader
228 notes
·
View notes
Note
Older! Eddie Munson x reader, who works at at store with Eddie, Eddie, who's in charge of her bc she's the new one in the store, they sometimes get kind of flirty with each other, and one night after work they go to a bar and end up sleeping together, turns out Reader is the daughter of (it could be Steve or Billy) and Eddie's like what the hell, and he's scared because he thinks Reader's dad is gonna destroy him, punch him really bad (or something like that?) Eddie stays away from reader except from work. They both miss each other, and then they talk and when Eddie tells her what's his concern she's like my dad already knows he's not mad at you he wants to meet you
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3
Billy's daughter
Y/N was in college, on her own, and knew she needed a job. It would be impossible to afford anything. She wandered around her small college town and looked into every store to see a help-wanted sign.
She cheered as she saw a help wanted sign, it seemed to be a small store. She walked in and took in the small room. Shelves stacked with snacks, candies, and a row of beverages. She saw a man, maybe in his forties, at the front counter. He had dark curly brown hair and it was tied into a low bun. Loose pieces framed his face, which called attention to his sharp jawline. He had soft pretty brown eyes.
"What can I help you with today?" His voice was low and deep. She couldn't help but feel her knees weaken just by looking at this stranger.
"Looking for a job!" She said
Eddie gave her a look up and down. Without missing a beat he said "hired."
~~~
And that was a week ago. She found out his name was Eddie and he was the manager of the store. He was indeed older, with no kids and no ring on his finger. He didn't talk about a girlfriend, and the way he flirted with Y/N, made her think he was single. At least she hoped.
Since she was new, she worked all her shifts with him. He trained her and kept an eye on her. The job wasn't that hard and she probably didn't need to train for as long as she was. But she wasn't going to complain about the extra time she got with him one-on-one. She never could wipe the smile off of her face when she saw their names written next to each other on the calendar. She noticed there were a few employees, and she never worked with them or even met them. But she was okay with that. She'd rather have all that time with Eddie anyway.
She felt stupid to have a crush on her boss. But she couldn't help it. He was a walking sex dream. His tattooed arms, and his smokey cologne. His sexy smirk and the way he teased her when she got embarrassed for staring.
He was charming, she had to admit that. He knew how to make her heart flutter. He flirted with full confidence, he knew she had a crush on him. She made it obvious with how she stuttered and practically fell over her feet in front of him.
"You didn't hear one word I said, did you?" His sexy chuckle made her body hot as she blinked repeatedly. She didn't notice he even started talking, and she didn't notice he was done with helping the customer. How long was he talking to her?
"Well, that's about," he looked down at his watch, "ten minutes this time. Kinda a new record." He teased. The wink he sent her way didn't help the butterflies in her stomach.
"You were talking to me for ten minutes? Why didn't you get my attention sooner!" She said, smacking his arm lightly as he laughed.
"Your little dreamy look is adorable. Your eyes get huge and your mouth is slightly open." He continued to tease her as she smacked him over and over. She felt like she was in middle school, hitting the boy she liked while he hit on her.
"It's not my fault!" She said
"It's not mine!" He argued back, his smile bright and his dimples popped.
"It is! You're so hot and you know it. And you use it against me!" She said, her brain barely realizing what she was saying.
"Nah uh, baby," his finger waved in her face, she was embarrassed by how badly she wanted to wrap her mouth around it. The nickname baby went straight to her cunt as she shifted. "I use the crush you have against you, not my looks. It's fun to watch you get so," he said, whispering as he moved closer to her face. His nose was practically against hers. "Squirmy and horny."
She felt the air get stuck in her throat, and she was pretty sure he was close enough to hear her choke on it. She didn't know what to say, she just stared into his eyes. She leaned in, her eyes flicked down to his lips.
But she felt the feeling of cold air as he smirked and leaned back. His face was now feet away from hers as he chuckled.
"I don't kiss my employees." He winked.
~~~
She felt so much relief when she finished her shift. She needed a cold fucking shower after all the teasing Eddie put her through.
"Wanna go get a drink?"
Now she was tipsy at a bar, and all her respect was out the window. Eddie teased her and teased her. She was horny and he knew it. So no shame in acting on it. He was telling a story, but all she heard was blah blah blah. She chugged the rest of her drink, then slammed it down on the table. She didn't wait for his story to be done, she smashed her lips on his. She was desperate, and he could feel it. Her hands went to his chest, as she gripped his shirt in a tight grasp. She yanked him closer by his shirt and slipped her tongue in his mouth. She moaned in delight when he kissed her back. His tongue was wet and warm against hers as his hand held the back of her head. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. From the kiss alone she was burning in delight and lust.
"Wanna get out of here?" He asked against her lips.
"I can't wait that long." She whimpered and it was true. She needed him now.
Eddie nodded and grabbed her hand. She followed behind as he led them into the one-stall bathroom. Her first time with Eddie was in a dirty bar bathroom, and she didn't care. Her back was slammed against the door as he locked it. Her hands immediately went to yank down her pants and panties. She pushed off Eddie's jacket as he worked on unbuttoning his jeans. He slipped out his cock from his jeans and hissed at the coldness of the air. He didn't mind since he was seconds away from being in her warm cunt.
She reached behind and gripped his ass as he pushed himself inside of her.
It was fast, rough, and desperate. Their teeth clashed as they kissed and her head smacked against the door with every thrust. But her body has never felt better.
~~~
Eddie dropped her off at home since she was too buzzed to drive. Her car left at the store parking lot so she had to ask her dad for a ride.
"Eddie Munson is your manager?" Billy asked as he pulled up to the store.
"Yeah. Isn't he cute?" Y/N gushed. She couldn't believe just last night he was pounding into her. He made her have so many butterflies, that it felt like a zoo was in her stomach.
"Ew but sadly, many girls thought that in high school. Just be safe with an older guy, okay?" Billy said. Weirdly, he was cool with Y/N dating whoever she wanted. He raised his daughter to be smart. She was an adult and he couldn't stop her from dating anyone. He valued his relationship with his daughter and didn't want to lose it over being controlling. That's exactly how he learned to hate his parents.
"He's a good guy, I promise I'm safe." She pecked her dad's cheek as she got out of his car. A huge smile on her face as she walked into the store.
~~~
Eddie felt his palms get sweaty when he saw Y/N pull up in Billy's car. He hadn't seen Billy since highschool and honestly was still terrified of him. His icy blue eyes sent Eddie a glare as he drove off. Why was Billy driving her?
"Hi handsome," Y/N said, leaning over the counter to peck Eddie's cheek.
"Why was Billy Hargrove driving you?" Eddie asked, ignoring the kiss on his cheek.
"He's my dad," Y/N said it like it was no big deal. She simply shrugged and went into the office to clock in.
Now Eddie was even more terrified. He fucked Billy's daughter. And not in a romantic way. He fucked her raw in a bar bathroom like she was a whore. And he knew something happened because why else would Billy glare at him as he drove off?
"So! What's the plan for tonight? Wanna go see a movie?" Y/N asked, oblivious to Eddie practically shaking in the spot next to her.
"I think last night was a mistake," Eddie said he didn't think it through. His focus was on Billy and the fastest way to escape a beatdown. Breaking Billy's daughter's heart? Yeah, he didn't think that through.
Y/N felt the breath get caught in her lungs but in the worst way. Her eyes immediately got wet as Eddie's words sank into her skin, the same skin he sank his teeth in hours ago.
"Um, why?" She asked she tried to hide the fact she wanted to cry. She knew her crush was dumb. He probably enjoyed the little cat-and-mouse game. He got her so now he was done.
"Because I feel like it was!" He argued. He was hiding his fear behind anger. But he had no reason to be angry at her. But he was. He was so pissed that she didn't bother to tell him who her dad was. Yet again, why would she? She didn't know Eddie knew her dad. It wasn't like she did it on purpose, but Eddie punished her like she did.
"It wasn't to me. I like you and I think you like me too." She tried to understand him, was it all an act?
"Well, you thought wrong. Sorry to see that you got your hopes up." He talked to her like she was nothing like she meant nothing. And it crushed her more than he'd ever known.
Neither spoke for the rest of their shift. She felt embarrassed to be so excited about how she thought today would go.
~~~
When she came in the next day, she was shocked to see someone different behind the counter. She read their name tag and realized it was just another employee. One that she saw countless times on the schedule. She wasn't stupid, she knew Eddie went and took away all the shifts they would have together. She hated how much it hurt.
A week went by and Y/N still hasn't seen Eddie. Billy noticed the change in his daughter's attitude. She didn't talk much about it, just the gist that Eddie wasn't interested anymore. She tried to seem like she was fine, but Billy knew she wasn't. But it wasn't his place to be involved. He felt sorry for her. They spent many dinners talking about Eddie coming over so she could have her dad meet a potential boyfriend.
~~~
Y/N was shocked to see Eddie back behind the register. After two weeks of him ghosting her, she didn't expect to see him again.
She didn't say a word, walking past him as she clocked in. She craved to hear his voice, and she wanted to cry and beg for him to just give her a chance. She knew she could be worth it. She didn't know what about her wasn't good enough.
Eddie found himself wanting to say something but he knew he shouldn't. He knew he should apologize and leave her alone. He hurt her more than he did anything else. A damn good reason for Billy to give him a black eye.
The shift went slow and Y/N wanted to tear her hair out. No customers, so the two sat in silence for hours. She felt his eyes on her every so often but she refused to give in. He made it clear she was an idiot child with a crush and that's all she was.
She checked the time on the clock, she had another two hours and she wasn't sure she could handle it. She thought fast and the lie sped off her tongue.
"Is it cool if I dip early? I've got plans." She asked.
Eddie jumped at the sound of her voice, he was prepared for a whole day of silence.
"Um yeah, that's cool." He wanted her to stay. Even if he was too chicken to talk to her, he liked having her near. He liked knowing she wasn't anywhere, she was right there with him.
It wasn't his place to ask, but his stomach turned at the thought of what the plans were.
"Is it a date?" He asked. He tried to sound nonchalant about it, just making casual conversation. He looked over at her, this time surprised to see her looking at him.
"Yes." She said Eddie hated the answer and he hated the way she looked right into his eyes to tell him. Once again, it wasn't his place to have his heart feel like it was squeezed in her hands. It wasn't his place to feel a sick feeling in his stomach like something was stuck in his throat.
Neither said anything more. She walked out of the office and clocked out. She gathered her things, a silent wave to him as she walked past. Inches away from her car when she heard the tiny bell of the door and footsteps behind her.
Her arm was tugged and her body was wiped around. Her body smashed against Eddie's. Before she knew it, his warm lips were on hers. She tried to fight it, she tried to fight it so hard. She could feel his lips repeatedly pressing against hers, just begging for her lips to move against his. His hands gripped her elbows as he desperately held on to her.
"Please." He begged against her lips, his eyes were closed. He was too scared to look at her. He waited and prayed she'd kiss him back.
But all he felt was a sting on his right cheek as she slapped him right across the face. He groaned at the impact but knew he deserved it. Then finally, her lips pressed against his. Her hands wrapped around his neck as she passionately kissed him. She needed one moment of weakness.
Eddie whimpered as she pulled away. His lips chased after her but she moved her head. She removed her arms from him and pushed his hands off of her.
"Please don't go on that date."
"Why, Eddie? You made it clear it was all in my head." She explained, her heart felt the familiar sting.
"I lied! I like you so much. And that night wasn't a mistake. I've wanted it since I met you. You're beautiful, sexy, and sweet. I knew you liked me so I went for it. I don't regret it. I didn't know Billy was your dad, once I found that out I panicked. I figured he'd be pissed at me for going after his young daughter and I was scared he would punch me. Which I see runs in the family." He said as he pointed to his cheek. A red mark forming.
"Why didn't you just say that!" Y/N groaned, smacking Eddie's arm in the flirty way she used to. "My dad and I have a close relationship. And he wanted you over for dinner. He's fine with you being older. He's way more pissed at you for sleeping with me than ignoring me."
"Billy wants dinner with me?" Eddie was shocked.
"Well, probably less after you ignored me for weeks." Y/N shrugged. She enjoyed making Eddie sweat.
"I'm so sorry about that. I truly am." He apologized.
"I forgive you. Next time, don't be an idiot. Just talk to me about your fears. Otherwise, a relationship will never work."
"A relationship? I like the sound of that." Eddie smiled.
"Me too." She winked, moving in to press her lips against his again.
~~~
"Alright, my dad should be here any minute. Are you ready?" Y/N asked. She and Eddie were closing the store while they waited for Billy to pick them up. Billy refused to let Eddie meet them at the restaurant, he said he'd pick them up and they would all drive together. Which terrified Eddie, but he couldn't lie he always wanted to be in the same car as the famous Billy Hargrove.
"Yes. Just one more thing!" Eddie said, leaning over the counter to smash his lips on hers. She giggled into the kiss and held his face.
"Thought you didn't kiss employees." She teased, he smiled against her lips.
"I'm not. I'm kissing my girlfriend."
Honk
Honk
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson fluff#older!eddie munson x female reader#older eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x Hargrove! reader#eddie munson smut x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson smut x female reader#older eddie munson smut#ashwhowrites
578 notes
·
View notes
Text
This Was Never Meant to Be What It Feels Like (Part 3)
A/N: Heeeeeeey...How y'all doing?....I know it's been a couple weeks when I said days but a part of this just did not want to be written! Also, this one is a bit of a beast, just over 5,200 words. This is the final part of this lil mini series, I hope y'all enjoy and the conclusion is satisfying for you guys.
Part 1 Part 2
Pairing: Armando Aretas x Original Female Character
Fandom: Bad Boys Movies
Prompt: Mike gets a couple visits, Shay has some news and Armando makes a decision.
Warnings⚠️: Cussing, Mentions of bad parental relationships, uh.... I think that's it for this one.
Mike Lowrey was no stranger to being called into back rooms for an off the books meeting. What was unusual was the CBI agent waiting for him when last time he checked none of the cases he had been part of lately had anything to warrant federal attention. Well, besides the one with his son but he had been cleared almost a full year ago now and Julie had corroborated his story. Nah, this was something new.
“Officer Lowrey, I’m Agent Garrett with the California Bureau of Investigations. Please have a seat.” She was standing at her full height on the other side of the table while gesturing to one of two chairs in the room, the only one near him. He saw straight through her bullshit tactics to make him feel like she was in charge and had the upper hand.
“It’s Detective Lowrey and think I’ll stand. Now why don’t you cut the shit and tell me what the hell you want.” Her jaw tensed and he just barely managed to hold back a smirk. She wouldn’t get what she wanted by using the same perp tricks he had been using when she was still in diapers. You can’t bullshit the bullshitter.
Coming clean, she began, “I’ve been put in charge of running a task force out in LA, similar to your AMMO squad here. Our goal is to find and stop cartel drug from entering the country, maybe stop a few murders while we’re at it.”
So this was about Armando, just more recently than he thought. Damn son of his was definitely payback for the hell he raised when he was younger. If he was back on his shit, he might not be able to help him this time.
“Sounds like a good idea. I wish you luck,” he stated, feigning ignorance as to what this was really about.
“Your son Armando Aretas has many connections on the west coast that could be useful. Figured I could use him to knock down some of my open cases.”
She clearly had found out their connection, but he still wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. “I don’t know if you’ve been watching the news lately, but my son isn’t here in Miami. He’s been on the run for the better part of a year. I don’t know where he is.”
“You’re his father.” Agent Garrett takes the chair on her side of the table. “If anybody could find him, it’d be you. You’d know where to look right?” The flattery, the subtle leading questions to confirm what she believed and the sitting gave her away.
She was desperate.
If he had to guess, those open case files were all big cases that had her boss breathing down her neck. She’d probably been given an ultimatum with her job on the line and now she was desperate to do anything that would get her back on top, including working with a wanted man.
Mike sat. “What are the terms?”
“Terms?”
“What does Armando get in exchange for helping you?”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Terms are you don’t go to prison for aiding and abetting a murderer and he doesn’t get a bullet in his head immediately. Don’t know if you know this but cops aren’t a big hit in prison and I’m betting that’s especially true for you.”
“Don’t fucking insult me, please. Aiding and abetting implies I know where he is and I’m actively helping him. I’ve already told you I don’t know where he is. But like you said I’m your best shot at finding him. I’m also your best chance at not getting your men killed and losing him again. I’m not doing this shit without some assurances on his end. So I’ll ask again. What does he get for helping you?”
She shook her head. “You know when I came up with this whole thing, I did my my research on you. Figured I should know who I was getting into bed with. Everything I read told me you were one hell of a cop, always got your guy and made Miami just that much safer. Are you, this great cop, really going to bat for a murderer like him?���
That was where her approach was faulty. She was trying to appeal to his cop side, but he was a father first. “No, I, a father, am protecting my son.”
“I can offer him protective custody, knock some time off his sentence depending on how fruitful his tips are.” She offered lightly.
Too lightly. This was her throwaway offer, the one she knew was shit but was hoping he’d take anyway. So he called her bluff.
“He won’t come in for that. He had that deal with me already. All the shit that went down last year? The bodies dropped had to be put on someone and he got ‘em since he was a convicted felon, one that was alive and a part of the mess. Not to mention he ran off and became a fugitive. He’s looking at almost double what his sentence was when I arrested him. You’ll have to do better.”
Agent Garrett seemed to be debating with herself. She let out a heavy breath,”I’ve been authorized to grant him a special deal.”
Now they were getting somewhere.
“What kind of deal?”
“The kind that puts my ass on the line.”
Something about this whole interaction was bugging him. “Tell me something. Why are you willing to put your badge on the line for someone you clearly can’t stand?”
“I don’t trust Aretas. But this isn’t about me. Its about making my city safer. His intel could be the key to shutting down major operations. He has connections everywhere, and that’s what I care about. I’m not putting myself on the line for him, I’m doing it for my city.”
“You sure you’re not doing it for your bosses? They up yo ass about getting shit done?”
“I proposed using Aretas. They were against it. Said we were cleaning up just fine but I’m tired of cleaning up after the fact and only getting low level dealers. I want to cut this thing off at the head.”
“At the end of the day that’s my son. I need to know that somebody has his back. Why should I trust that that’s you?”
“Like I said this is my proposal. My bosses made it clear that if he fails I fail. He gives me the wrong intel, he leads us astray, he turns on us, I’m fired. I’m just as invested in his success because I have something to lose too.”
“What’s the offer?”
❤️🔥❤️🔥
“Hi, I’m looking for Mike Lowrey?” Shay swallowed down the feeling of nausea, hoping it was just the nerves making her feel this way.
“He’s not in at the moment, but I’m his wife Christine. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Shay hesitates. Could she do anything? Hell she wasn’t sure what this Mike Lowrey could do for her either. She flew all the way to Miami, and for what? Some detective Armando had left the name of in case she needed help? This was a bad idea. She knew he was a cop, and after looking him up a supposedly good one, but how could she trust him when he socialized with a murderer? Ignoring her own dalliances with the man, she could only think about the fact that Detective Mike Lowrey had sworn to arrest people like Armando, not be someone they trusted.
She felt overwhelmed for the millionth time in the past month and a half and was debating just leaving when Christine offered, “why don’t you come in? Mike should be home soon and you can wait inside for him instead of in the heat.”
She wasn’t sure if it was the heat, Christine's sweet voice coupled with the endearing British accent or the way her face screamed warmth, but she found herself saying, “yeah. Yeah okay.”
Christine opened the door wider for her to enter and Shay marveled at the inside of the house as much as she had the outside. This guy was definitely a dirty cop. There was no way he was able to afford this on a detective’s salary. What the hell was she getting herself into?
“Please have a seat,” she gestured towards the couch. It looked like it was more for the aesthetic than actual use but she was pleasantly surprised to find it very comfortable. “Would you like something to drink? I have water and that disgusting stuff my husband calls sweet tea,” Christine joked.
“Water is fine,” she replied with a smile. Shay watched as Christine stepped past a wall into what she assumes was the kitchen. The creeping sensation of nausea hit her once more. Digging in her purse and finding a ginger chew, she didn’t see Christine come back in the room with a bottle of water. Almost instantaneously she felt relief, so maybe it was all psychosomatic. Just her nerves going haywire.
“How far along are you?” Shay startled at the question.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.
“It’s okay. What makes you think I’m pregnant?”
“I saw the chew and just assumed.”
She didn’t believe that for a second. “Some assumption based off just a ginger chew. What if I just like them?”
“Honestly the chew was just the cherry on top for my assumption. You hold yourself the same way my sister held herself when she was pregnant for the first time. A bit unsure, scared definitely, but ready for war all the same.”
Well, damn. She didn’t know she gave off that much with just how she stood.
Ignoring how unexpectedly open she felt, she answered Christine’s question from before.“Thirteen weeks.” Suddenly Shay realized how this could look, a random pregnant woman showing up looking for her husband and not telling her what she wants, so she quickly explained. “It’s not your husband’s!”
Christine laughed brightly, “Oh darling the thought never crossed my mind. Mike may have once been that guy, but he’s not anymore. He’s a good man.” Shay kept her doubts to herself.
“Christine? Who’s car is that out front?” The man she assumed to be Mike Lowrey was juggling a duffle bag and struggling to get his keys out of the door, not once looking in their direction.
Smirking like it was a game, Christine replied, “It’s a rental.”
“Why do we need a rental?” He finally looked up, noticing Shay in the room. She could see his guard go right back up.
“Mike, this is Shay. She was hoping to speak with you,” his wife explained to him.
“Do I know you?” He was blunt but not unkind with his words, something she hoped would continue in their conversation.
“Mike!” Christine admonished before turning to Shay with, “Please, excuse Mike. He can bring his interrogation tactics into other parts of his life sometimes.”
“It’s okay. If a random woman showed up saying she needed to speak to me, I’d probably question it too.” She was hoping her understanding would get her some traction and not immediately thrown out when he found out why she was here.
Mike still held caution in his face. “So…?” He left the obvious question unspoken, wondering who she was and why she was here in his home.
Shay paused. She wasn’t sure how to bring it up and didn’t want to say anything in front of his wife in case she truly had no clue her husband was a dirty cop. She may have been desperate enough to find this guy, but she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin this poor woman’s marriage.
Luckily Christine picked up on her reluctance to speak in front of an audience and excused herself. “I’m going to head upstairs for a moment, give you two some time to talk.”
While Shay relaxed, Mike tensed. Once Christine was gone, he questioned her. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”
“I was told if I ever needed anything, I should find you.”
Mike carefully focused his attention on sitting his duffle near the armchair, going to take a seat himself. He might not be looking directly at her anymore, but she knew all of his attention was on her as he spoke. “Who the fuck told you that? Better yet, why my house? Why not meet me in the station?”
Ignoring the second question, she replied, “Armando Aretas.”
Mike’s head snapped back to her. She was almost concerned for his neck with how fast he moved.
Continuing at his silence she said, “I figured you wouldn’t want to discuss him at work.”
“What about him?”
“He was in LA a few months ago.”
He first whispered to himself, “Dumbass don’t listen.” Then he spoke louder, clearly to her this time, “What does this have to do with you and why you’re here?”
She wasn’t sure where to start. How does one tell a dirty cop working for one’s murderer baby daddy that you need him to tell said baby daddy you were pregnant? “We were…together. I’m pregnant now.” She hoped he would catch on without her spelling it out but he didn’t.
Instead, Mike blinked. “What?” A million unidentifiable emotions ran over his face before he carefully shut it down, facing her with no emotion at all now.
“I am with child, in the family way, carrying a bun in the oven, whatever you want to call it.” There was still no response from him so she continued her rant, “look I’m not asking for him to come back or pay for anything. I’m fully prepared to take care of this kid myself, but not even trying to tell him was weighing on my conscience. So I figured if I found you like he said, you could pass on the message for me. I just need to be able to know I did everything I could to let him know.”
She had prepared for a lot of responses to her plea. Anger on Armando’s behalf, a dismissal, hell even laughter at her audacity, but his next words were ones she somehow missed in her spiral. “I’m not in contact with him.”
Shay tried not to be hurt at his response, not for herself, but for her baby. Okay, well a little bit for herself. She was in love with the man-yes, still- and knowing he truly didn’t leave a way to contact him again crushed the little bit of hope his note had left behind. Why would he send her to Mike if it wasn’t a way to get in touch with him? “So why would he tell me to find you?”
A pause.
“Armando’s my son.”
The statement was so far from what she was expecting to hear that she paused. “Wait so you don’t…you don’t work for him? With him? Whatever.”
Mike laughed loudly, “nah, I don’t work in that world. I stand by the badge.”
“So how did he…?” She trailed off, confused.
“Look our situation is…complicated, but if he sent you in my direction I’m gonna help you in any way I can. I mean, I’d love to get to know you and be in my grandchild’s life if you’ll let me.” His words were reminiscent of the night she had asked Armando about his family. He too had called his relationship with his father complicated.
Despite the unknown of it all, his offer was partly the reason she had found Mike. A family for her child, something she never really had. “Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.” It may not be exactly what she was looking for, but she would take what she could get. At least her baby would have some connection to their father’s side of the family. But she still had a question, one that had no answer now that her assumptions were corrected.
“So if you aren’t dirty, how do you afford living like this?”
Mike let out a laugh louder than the one from before. “I’m a trust fund kid. Never really had to work but all I’ve ever wanted was to be a cop.”
“Sounds like one hell of a trust fund,” she scoffed.
Turning serious he impressed, “One that continues to grow from a few investments made along the way. This kid will have that same freedom. They’ll be able to do whatever they want in life and never have to worry about money.”
That statement alone almost made her cry. She didn’t have much growing up, wondering if she and her mother would even be able to eat everyday. When she had found out she was pregnant, despite making more money than her mother did she found herself worrying her child would have those same experiences.
She may not have Armando, a partner she’d hoped to have, but he had made sure she had everything she needed.
❤️🔥❤️🔥
Habitual but flexible.
That was Armando’s motto. Habitual in the precautions he took but flexible enough everywhere else to not create patterns. Patterns were how you got caught, and Armando refused to be put in another cage. He always double checked his locks when he left his place, checked his surroundings before leaving and arriving at his place so as not to run into his neighbors. The less people who could identify him the better.
Which is why seeing his door wide open as he turned onto his street was so unsettling.
Normally he would just leave town, dump this alias and start over with another elsewhere, but there were a few things he didn’t want to part with. Upon his first return to Mexico, he had managed to find his mother’s emergency stash and in it was a photo of the two of them before he was forced out of the prison when he turned six. Despite his conflicted feelings on his mother’s choices and the lies she told him, he still loved her and this was all he had left of her.
If she were around she’d chastise his sentimentality.
He also had a letter his father had written him when he left Miami that he kept because even with the complexity of their relationship, he still wished he’d had the opportunity to get to know him. He wished he could have done things differently. That letter may be his only chance to know his father, even a little bit.
The last thing was a photo of Shay. He had taken it one morning before he left on a polaroid camera she had lying around. The sun had been rising and he remembered wishing what they had could be real, that he could stay in bed and wake up with her instead of having to run out and lie all the time. It was the only thing he had left of the only relationship he’d ever have again.
So he weighed his options. Either he went in and fought whoever was there, grabbed his things and hopefully made it out in time to not get caught, or he left now and hoped whoever it was left without calling for backup so he could get his things before leaving town. He either risked his freedom or he risked losing the only items that reminded him of his humanity forever.
He pulled his gun and carefully made his way into the apartment he’d called home for a couple weeks.
“Don’t shoot, it’s just me.”
Armando relaxed, but kept his gun in his hand. “What are you doing here Detective?” His tone was snippy, as though his father speaking to him was a bother. He knew that wasn’t true, but it was like he couldn’t help the animosity that came out when he spoke to his father. No matter how much he’d love to try with the man, he’d just get so angry about it all that it came out confrontational.
“What? A man can’t see his son?” Mike didn’t rise to the obvious bait of his tone, instead trying to lighten the mood with a tease.
Armando simply raised an eyebrow at the deflection. “Not when that man is a decorated detective and his son is a fugitive,” he coldly stated. He needed to know what Mike wanted so he could get on with his life. Who knows how many eyes are on the man, he was risking Armando’s freedom, not that he seemed to care. Irritated at the lack of concern for him, he accused, “you risked the badge once just to let me go, you won’t risk it again, not even for me. It means too much to you.” I don’t mean enough to you went unsaid but not unheard.
“Armando I’d risk everything for you.” The fight left Mike, and he sighed, finding a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’re my son and I know I’m not the best at showing it, but that shit means something to me. Our relationship means something to me. I didn’t have the best relationship with my father so I told myself I wouldn’t have kids cause I didn’t want to repeat the cycle. But then I found out about you. And despite the fact that circumstances made it so it isn’t easy, I still don’t want the cycle to be repeated. I love you man. I’ll do whatever you need me to, to prove that to you. Including walking away if you say no to my proposal.”
There it was. The real reason he was here now, he needed something like always. Armando put his gun away in exasperation. He was so tired of just being used that he couldn’t help but get a jab in. “Whatever man. This don’t mean shit to you. It’s all transactional for you, I’m good enough to help you get what you want and that’s why you come around. So what is it this time?”
“Is that what you think? That I don’t care about you?” What the hell else was he supposed to think?
“If you did, you would have come to see me in prison without needing my help on a case.” He argued before quietly following up with, “I would have been enough of a reason to visit.” He hated when this stupid hurt boy routine flared up. He looked weak, like una puta.
Mike stood and stepped close to Armando. Refusing to back down, Armando met his stare head on, ignoring the way his throat was getting tight and tears were pooling in his eyes. “Armando I never needed you on those cases. I knew that if I could get intel from you and put you down on paper, it would help you out. I was trying to help.” He blinked and a single tear made its way down his face. It was too much now and he had to look away.
Mike placed a hand on his shoulder, continuing, “I love you. Nothing is more real than that. If I had known you would take my help as me using you, I never would’ve asked for your help.”
Facing his father once more, Armando spoke lowly, “Si lo hubieras sabido, ¿te habría importado?” He didn’t explain what he meant, knowing his father understood what he was asking.
“Nada me hubiera importado más.” Mike asserted.
He nodded, finally having an answer to the question that had been burning inside him. He focused on the reason Mike was in front of him, not the emotions his answer stirred in him. “What’s the proposal?” He asked much more calmly this time around.
“LAPD is starting up a team like AMMO. They were hoping to recruit you to be a part of it, use your knowledge to help stop cartel drugs from entering the states.”
“And go back in a cage? No I’m good.” He shook his head, a clear no coming from him.
“You wouldn’t be arrested again, you’d be put up in an apartment. Free to walk the city after an initial probationary period of just work and home. After that, there would be twenty-four hour surveillance, random drug tests and check-ins. Eventually you would become a private citizen.”
It sounded like a trap. “If I don’t give them what they want I get arrested right?”
“Yeah, but I have all the faith you’ll be great at it. Plus I made sure it was as ironclad for you as possible.”
“Why would I agree to this? Sounds like a lot could go wrong and land me back in prison. If that happens I’m never getting out again.”
“You aren’t the killer your mother made you into. You only did any of it because she fueled you with rage and ideas of revenge before she pointed you at a target. If you were really a killer, you would’ve killed me anyway. You live by a code, and only do what’s necessary. No more, no less.”
Sometimes when he was feeling really low he’d think about what his life would have been like if he’d had a normal life. Would he have chosen violence anyway? He’d like to think he’d hav e chosen to protect. Maybe be a firefighter or an EMT cause he was still an adrenaline junkie, but maybe he wouldn’t have to hurt anybody. If his father was saying the same thing he thought, then maybe he could believe it to be true. Before he could think on it, his father spoke once more, shifting his whole world.
“Besides, Shay’s pregnant. We not giving another generation of Lowrey these bullshit daddy issues.”
❤️🔥❤️🔥
Six Months Later
“Marcus we ain’t got time for that shit.”
“I just asked the man a question!”
“No, you used the question as a cover to try and buy some damn skittles.”
“Oh so now you the skittle police? I thought we worked narcotics?”
“Yo ass ain’t supposed to have that shit and you know it. Don’t try to make it out like I’m the one that’s going overboard.”
“Aye Mike what would they call the skittle department? The rainbow division? Don’t worry everybody! Mike Lowry is working the rainbow!”
“That’s homophobic.”
“It’s the slogan! What else would it be called Mike?”
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“Man fuck you-“
“Your presence really wasn’t needed-“
“I’m just trying to be a good friend-“
“This is a moment for my family-“
“And now I’m not family to you?!”
“You called my family fucked up remember?”
“Yo son was tryna kill us and his mama was gonna let us burn in a fire!”
“Are you pendejos done?”
“Mike! That mean assholes right?”
“Yeah he just called us assholes. But Imma let it slide cause he got to be high on that new father shit to call me an asshole.”
“Nah I just think he don’t respect you. That’s what you get for not raising him. My boys would never.”
“Marcus!”
Shay knew this could devolve again if she didn’t get their attention. “Guys! Do you want to meet her?”
The men focused their attention on the baby Shay was holding against her chest. Marcus visibly melted at the sight, Mike simply softening his shoulders with a small smile.
Armando joined Shay, leaning on the bed using a finger to trace down their daughter’s arm. When he spoke, he kept his eyes on his daughter. “This is Amada Rose Lowrey.”
“Lowrey?”Mike coughed.
Armando shrugged. “I wasn’t actually an Aretas, I was supposed to be a Lowrey. Figured she and I could claim our real family name.”
Mike nodded. “That’s cool man. Real cool,” he choked out.
“Awe Mike,” Marcus cried.
“Mm-mm Marcus. Stop it right now.”
“But Mike he’s taking your last name!”
Ignoring his bumbling partner, Mike walks over to Shay, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “How you doing Mama?”
“Extremely sore, but happy.”
“Well you did good, she’s beautiful.”
“You wanna hold her?”
Knowing his father’s aversion to holding babies, he goads hims, “Yeah Papa, wanna hold her?”
Surprising them all, he said, “You know what? I will.”
Shay handed her daughter over to Mike, making sure he supported her head correctly.
Armando joined Shay on the bed and wrapped her in his arms now that she wasn’t holding the baby. He simply watched his father holding and whispering to his baby girl with fond eyes, knowing his daughter would know nothing but love and presence from the man. They would have a real relationship right from the start. He and Mike themselves had been working on things, talking through the lies and anger and getting to a better place.
“How’s work? They give you any time off?” Marcus asked him.
In the end there hadn’t been a choice. He was going to be present in his child’s life, no matter what and sneaking into LA would just get riskier every time he did it. If he didn’t get caught just trying to get to his family, he would’ve gotten caught because if how much he would’ve been there to see them. And he’d be damned if he was raising his child from behind bars so he took Agent Garrett up on her offer.
He turned to face his uncle, replying, “Good, we wrapped a case a day before Shay went into labor. I’ll have about a couple weeks at home with the girls before I’m expected back.”
It had somewhat surprised him how seriously Marcus had taken to being his uncle. The man was supportive of his new role with the LAPD and called almost as often as his father did, checking in and making sure he was being safe. Seeing him at the hospital now wasn’t a shock at all.
“I’m just glad they gave him any time at all,” Shay interrupted. As his employment with the LAPD wasn’t under normal circumstances, he wasn’t sure if they’d grant him time at home with his girls. Agent Garrett had stuck her neck out for him once again and gotten him twelve days exactly.
Armando leaned down and kissed her, forever grateful for the woman who stood by his side despite his past. She had lost a couple friends when they found out who he was, the ones that stayed had definitely judged her and never truly came around to him as a person. She never wavered though, taking it all with grace and holding his hand as they planed for their future. He couldn’t wait to ask her to marry him.
Amada let out a cry, disrupting his internal debate on the pros and cons of asking her right that moment. He knew it probably meant she was hungry again, so he shifted his hold on Shay so she could get the b baby again and feed her.
“I think that’s a cry for mommy,” Mike chimed as he passed the baby back.
“Yeah Mike you ain’t got the right equipment,” Marcus tossed out.
Mike turned to Marcus incredulously. “Now why would you say some dumb shit like that?”
“You don’t!”
Armando turned his attention from the bickering men, whispering to his little family, “Here they go.”
Honestly, though? He wouldn’t trade his family for nothing.
A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment or reblog/like! What did we think? I have a few other ideas in mind for Armando but I'm not sure how they'll play out, so I'm CAUTIOUSLY open to prompt from you guys for drabbles. Please keep in mind that I can't do smut.😅
Translations:
Una Puta - A bitch
Si lo hubieras sabido, ¿te habría importado? - If you had known, would you have cared?
Nada me hubiera importado más. -Nothing would have mattered to me more.
Pendejos - Assholes
Taglist:
@yeahnohoneybye @bootlegroach @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful
#armando aretas#Armando x ofc#Armando aretas x ofc#mike lowrey#marcus burnett#original female character#christine lowrey#fan fiction#minors dni#Jacob scipio#bad boys ride or die#bad boys for life
147 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steddie Upside-down AU Part 16
Part 1 Part 15
Steve doesn’t know Eddie well enough to be able to tell if the way he’s bouncing is excitement or nerves. Either way, he’d all but bolted up to sprint to the phone hanging from the wall in the kitchen. It’s an ugly beige and has one of those chords that you can twirl around and around your fingers as you talk.
Steve and Will stand a few paces back, watching as Eddie picks up the phone, and presses it so hard into his ear that he’ll be able to hear the ocean out of it.
Eddie’s bouncing on his toes, but as the seconds tick by, he slows, then stops, heels planted to the ground. He hangs up the phone, hangs his head, planting his palms on the countertop like he needs its support to stay upright.
“He must be at work,” Eddie says.
Steve inches forward, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing. The other boy takes a shuddering breath, before turning around, shrugging out of Steve’s hold.
“Do you want to try your parents?” he asks, looking Steve’s way.
He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing the words out. “Nah, they’re out of town.” He waves his hand breezily, like he couldn’t care less about his empty house. His absent parents. “Maybe we should try Will’s Mom again?”
Eddie’s eyes look sad and soulful, wet like Bambi’s. But he doesn’t say anything, just turns toward Will who’s still dawdling by the refrigerator. “We should try your Mom again,” he says. “But didn’t you say the Demogorgon came?”
Will wilts, the smile blooming on his face dropping before it’s even fully formed. “I think the phone got fried anyway.”
Steve’s not jealous of a pre-teen. Especially one trapped in a hell dimension being hunted by monsters. That’d be too fucked up to comprehend. “Dude, she loves you,” Steve says. “She definitely bought a new phone within like, thirty seconds.”
Will Byers beams, clearly a Momma’s boy through and through. Steve Harrington is not jealous, really. He’s not.
“How long ago did you talk to your Mom?” Eddie asks.
Will scuffs his already scuffed shoes against the carpet. “This morning, I think,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came, and I was running away when you found me.”
He says “found me” like Steve and Eddie are the best thing to ever happen to him. It runs through Steve like an electroshock, sends his skin buzzing in a way he can’t tell whether it’s invigorating or frying him from the inside out.
“Okay, so we should wait a little bit,” Eddie says, walking back and forth in front of them like a general to his soldiers. “Chill on our laurels, get some sleep, and come at this thing fresh eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow when the risk of Demogorgon sighting has gone down.”
Will bounces on his toes, once, twice, three times before seeming to catch himself. Oh, god. There are two of them. Steve may not survive long enough to meet Byers’ Mom, and it won’t be from a Demogorgon attack. It’ll be from two over-enthusiastic nerds.
Steve sighs. “What’re we going to do until then?” Steve asks. “It can’t be bedtime yet, just look at the sun.”
The twin looks of condescension he gets for that one are identical enough that he has to dig his teeth into the laugh that wants to burst out.
But then they look at each other, and it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore. Because Eddie’s smiling like the grinch right before he robbed all the who’s down in Whoville, and Will’s puppy-dog eyes could be charged as a lethal weapon.
“We could play D&D?” Will asks.
Steve groans slapping his hands over his face and rubbing them down harshly, even though the game is sort of fun. Even though it might be more fun with three people. Even though he was sold the moment that Will Byers looked at him with those eyes.
“Fine!” he says, throwing up his hands. “Let’s play your stupid nerd game.”
They gather around the coffee table, Eddie and Will leaning against the couch, Steve an island all on his own on the other side.
“Will, do you DM or should I?” Eddie asks, like the title is something grand to be bestowed upon someone. Like Will just got named Prom King and he’s asking if he wants the crown on his head.
“Maybe you can this time?” he asks, looking up at Eddie through his fringe.
Eddie nods. Steve settles his elbow on the table, sinking his cheek into his palm as the implications of “this time” run through his head.
“What’s your race?” Will asks, eyes glued to Steve.
Steve lifts his brow, shifting his gaze to where Eddie’s cringing away from Will. “We’ve, uh, sort of been playing with training wheels on?” he says, like it’s a question.
“Class?” Will asks, looking horrified. “Stats?” Eddie grimaces. Will sighs, turning back to Steve. “Do you have a character?”
“Sir Steven.”
“He’s definitely a human fighter,” Eddie mumbles, fidgeting with his rings like he’d committed some horrible sin.
“Okay, well, you’re supposed to roll the dice when you create a character so that you know how your character will react to things. Does that make sense?”
Steve nods even though it doesn’t, ignoring the way Eddie scoffs. Will fishes a little bag out of the pocket of his vest, dumping a pile of black dice. Steve recognizes the one with the twenty sides, but there’s a square one, a triangle one, and one shaped like a diamond he’s never seen before. He kind of wants to put them in his mouth, maybe swallow them.
Steve rolls a die for each stat, nodding along like it all makes sense. Eddie runs into his room for paper and a pencil, dutifully writing each number down.
When he passes the paper to Steve, he doesn’t know whether he should be insulted by the number for intelligence or flattered that Munson apparently thinks he’s charismatic. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to drop his score any lower.
Steve nods along while they discuss modifiers and alignments, but something of his confusion must show because Will and Eddie dial it back.
Will’s character is some sort of wizard who can cast spells and shit. He talks about his figurine, which Steve deduces is a little action figure like he saw in Munson’s room specific for his character, and the costume his Mom made for him to play, expression faraway.
They play. It’s more complicated this time, and when it becomes clear that Steve is struggling, Will scoots to the other side of the table to help point out which of the dice he should roll and what math he should be doing.
It’s fun, and they kick Xanthar’s ass, even if Steve’s pretty sure Eddie takes it easy on them. He tells himself it’s for Will’s sake, but the glimmer of humor in Eddie’s eyes makes it hard to hold onto that sentiment.
Will’s jaw-cracking yawn as they go over the story (campaign?) signals the end of the night. The poor kid’s eyes are drooping.
“Alright, bedtime for all the kiddies!” Eddie says, jumping up far too energetically for the end of the day they’ve had. “That means you, Harrington.”
The bed’s not big enough for all three of them, and Eddie’s bedroom doesn’t have enough floor space, so they huddle together in the living room. Will takes the couch after a thorough browbeating, huddled under two blankets and what must be Uncle Wayne’s pillow.
Steve and Eddie move the coffee table so they can sleep beside the couch, keeping their bodies between Will and the door. They make a nest of Eddie’s bedding and pillows.
Will’s breathing evens out quickly, poor kid. Steve stares at the ceiling. The silence drills into him until he can almost feel it, making him tense and tense until Eddie scoots close enough that their arms are touching.
The single point of contact seeps warmth into Steve’s bones. He closes his eyes, reveling in it.
“Should we really be wandering around with a child when there’s a monster running around?” Eddie asks, his breath whispering against the shell of Steve’s ear.
With his eyes closed, it’s easy to picture that thing, the Demogorgon. The way it’s claws curved, the way its face opens, and then opens again. The sound it makes. So, no. Steve doesn’t want that thing anywhere near the kid, but—
But.
“We’ve got to get him home, Munson.”
Eddie sighs, breath tickling the flyaways along Steve’s hairline. “Yeah,” he replies. “I guess we do.”
Steve falls asleep before Eddie moves back away, that single point of warmth following him into his dreams.
Part 17
442 notes
·
View notes
Text
SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - KISS IT BETTER
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.5k] Three weeks of no John B or Sarah and you're officially overwhelmed with grief and mixed signals, leading to an emotional outburst directed at certain blonde.
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mutual pining, grief avoidance, little fluff, mentions of low self-esteem/negative self-image, mentions of past non-con
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ I think this chapter is actually so soft and beautiful🥺 and I never really say this but I do think listening to the song on repeat as you read makes it one hundred times better.
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
THIS DAY MARKED THREE WEEKS SINCE YOU’D LOST JOHN B AND SARAH…And one week since JJ kissed you out of nowhere. Co-existing in your other presumed dead best friend’s house has been…odd, to say the least. You didn’t really know how to talk to JJ now, which was something you never thought would be an issue.
He’d been in the surf shack working on your car more than usual, without your company unfortunately. You’d been taking more small jobs just to get out of the house at this point. But barely talking to your best friend for an entire week while living in the same space was starting to take a toll on you.
And so was the kiss.
Did he mean to do it? Was it a spur of the moment thing? Did JJ have feelings for you? Ten thousand thoughts running around in your mind at once, driving you closer and closer to the edge of crazy. Your heart was telling you that the kiss was no accident — that it seemed too passionate and eager to be something he’d done in the heat of the moment. But your head was telling you that the kiss was an act of grief — something he’d done in a moment where his head wasn’t exactly screwed on straight.
That it was an honest mistake.
You didn’t know which part of you that you believed.
Or which part of you that you wanted to believe.
It was nightfall when you walked up the steps of The Chateau, bag slung lazily over your shoulder as you huffed out a puff of air, exhausted from your nearly ten hour long babysitting gig. Some couple needed someone to watch over their three kids while they went on a date. You should’ve known something was off when the mother was offering fifty dollars an hour, way over minimum wage — her three kids were more like a pint-sized trio of bats from hell. But you walked away with five-hundred more dollars in your pocket, so who were you to complain?
But even with fatigue and hunger weighing heavy on your bones, your heart still dropped at the thought of seeing JJ at the end of the day.
Sighing, you quietly opened the door of the home, throwing your bag on the sofa and letting the door close behind you as Marley immediately came charging, light paws feeling like punches on your thighs but you smiled nonetheless.
“Hi, pretty girl. How are you?” You cooed, scratching behind both of her ears as she wiggled against you.
Another set of footsteps rounded the corner, a freshly awoken JJ coming into your view. You coughed awkwardly under your breath, straightening out as the two of you locked eyes. “Oh, hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’m just glad you made it in before it got too late, one of the corner stores got robbed a couple hours ago.” He said, voice raspy and low from sleep as he rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes.
The two of you stood there awkwardly— JJ scratching the back of his head as you averted your eyes anywhere else, Marley’s panting filling the silence.
You took a deep breath, shoving your hands in the back of your pockets as JJ mindlessly nibbled on his lower lip. You took the opportunity to break the silence, the blonde seemingly having the same idea.
“Well, I’m gonna get ready for bed-”
“Look, I’m sorry-”
You both stopped talking, attempting to allow the other to speak. Small smiles broke out on your faces, the two of you looking down at your feet simultaneously. “This is awkward, if I’ve ever seen it…” JJ huffed out humorously. “Can we just…like, sit down and talk, for a minute?” He asked, his own words making him cringe slightly as he motioned towards the battered sofa.
You nodded, not saying a word as you plopped down on the piece of furniture, eyes on the floor as your hands held each other in your lap. JJ sat down oddly slow next to you. You expected him to try and create as much distance between the two of you as possible but surprisingly, he sat so close that your shoulders were brushing in the tiniest of ways.
The unexpectedness of it all had your brows furrowing, finding some kind of courage to look the boy in his eyes as he finally settled on the right words to say.
“...I shouldn’t have kissed you.” For some reason, the string of words made your heart tremble and your lips parted in surprise. They hurt more than you ever expected them to. Noticing your solemn expression, JJ was quick to clean up his statement, turning in his seat to look at you completely. “Not in the sense that I didn’t want to, no, God no.” He sputtered, hands moving around wildly. “It’s just that, with everything going on, I don't think that moment was the best moment to act on my feelings-”
He was cut off when you lurched forward, colliding your lips with his in the heat of the moment. In your haste and his surprise, the blonde accidentally bit your lip but you didn’t mind, never breaking the exchange. After a moment, you both seemed to settle into it — one of his hands sliding around your hip and waist to find a home on the end of your back, pulling you closer in the smallest motion. Your own hands cradled his jaw on each side, pulling him deeper into you.
You kissed that boy until you couldn’t anymore. Until your lips were swollen and wet, your head spinning as you pulled back and let your hands fall, sliding down the length of his neck and shoulders while his own hand slid back to rest on your thigh.
“...What was that for?” He asked in a whisper. He sounded breathless.
You simply gulped, tucking a small strand of hair behind your ear before speaking. “...When you kissed me, I felt something. Something I didn’t think I should feel while kissing my best friend. Because I never thought I’d be kissing my best friend at all.” You explained, elevating your gaze to meet his eyes. “And I thought to myself that I should feel repulsed. That the kiss should feel wrong. Right? But nothing about that kiss felt wrong.” You told him. “I haven’t been avoiding you because of the kiss, JJ. I’ve been avoiding you because I haven’t been able to get the thought of kissing you again out of my head since it happened.”
“And now that you have?” He asked, eyes searching yours. “Now, that you have kissed me again?”
“...I’m struggling not to do it a third time.” You breathed out, eyes fleeting towards his lips for the slightest of moments. “I don’t know what this is. In my head, you’re my absolute best friend and I love you in that aspect but everytime I see you now, I can’t help but think about you in ways that I shouldn’t. So, if that kiss or this one didn’t mean anything to you, you’d better tell me now because-”
“Oh, it meant something.” He cut you off enthusiastically, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I know you probably have no idea but that kiss meant everything to me.” He told you, edging closer on the sofa. “I’ve had this huge crush on you for, like, ever. Probably since I even knew what a crush was. But you know how I am…” He lowered his voice, avoiding your eyes. “I didn’t trust myself with you. Anytime I look at you, I see this ball of light around you and I never want it to go away. Or be the reason for it going away. With me and all my shit…”
“I don’t think of you like that.” You said honestly, a small frown on your face. “You aren’t some southside screw up or a charity case. JJ, you know that I don’t care about all that. I’m always there to walk through it with you, your life doesn’t define you, you know that. Or at least, you should.” You told the blonde, running a soft hand through his hair. “And I know that it may take some time for you to believe that for yourself but I’ll be the one to tell you it everyday until you actually hear it, as a friend or…whatever else.”
You reminded the boy, biting your lower lip in thought. “...That’s why you never said anything? Because you thought you weren’t good for me?”
He seemed to ponder on the statement before nodding, somewhat shamefully. “I mean, c'mon, look at you.” He scoffed, wide blue eyes looking at your face with so much adoration and purity that you never cared to notice before. “Someone like you doesn’t need to waste her life away trying to love someone like me.”
“I do love you-”
“Not in the way that I love you.” He blurted, pinching his eyes shut as he cut you off.
“...I could. But you’ll never know if you don’t let me try.” You told him. “I won’t sit here and tell you that I love you in that way because I really don’t know. But whatever I’m starting to feel for you is beyond a friendship and once I figure that out, who knows? But I also don’t want you to wait on me to figure things out if that’s not what you want.” You concluded, retreating your hands back to the comfort of your lap.
You don’t know how helpless you looked, but you made no attempt to hide the frown that you could feel on your face. You knew JJ was known as promiscuous but his ways seemed to have settled with everything that’s happened. Although the thought of him with anyone made your gut turn, you didn’t want to confine him within the cage of your emotional contemplation. You didn’t want to lead him on now knowing how he felt about you.
“Hey,” He started, a hand on your arm. “I will wait. And that’s my choice. If you decide that you want me, that you want this, then I will be here. I know my past actions are probably making my words seem like a load of shit right now, but weeks ago? When I was hooking up with half the island? I was under the impression that you and I would never happen. But now there’s a chance.” He spoke, laughing at the end of his sentence, the oddness of the action making your face twist. “Sorry, I just, I thought about somethin'.” He said, waving himself off. “I was talking to Bree one day, about you. I told him that the odds of you ever liking me back were one in a million. And he told me that a one in a million chance is still a chance, to which I told him that he was full of shit. But now…” He trailed off, shrugging.
“...John B knew?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. JJ rolled his eyes playfully.
“I think everyone knew, except you, of course.” He cocked an eyebrow, you being the one to roll your eyes this time.
“...So what do we do now?” You asked, voice small.
JJ sighed, suddenly sitting up straighter in his seat and taking both of your hands in his own. “...As much as I want to make you my girlfriend, right here and right now, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think that we both need time to grieve and sort ourselves and I also think that you need time to explore your feelings more and make sure that this isn’t a fluke.” That was the most mature sentence you'd ever heard leave JJ's lips.
“A fluke?” You asked, mildly offended. “What does that mean?”
“Just that, I’ve seen how you can deal with grief. And not to twist the knife…are you okay with me talking about the…Rafe thing?” You clenched your jaw at the mere mention of his name, nodding stiffly in JJ’s direction, the boy drawing his lips into a thin line before continuing. “When that happened, you were still grieving. You kissed him because you were in a bad place and he was there and he ended up...taking advantage of that vulnerable part of you, right?” You hummed in agreement. “I am not at all blaming you for what happened when I say this. You didn’t deserve it and that asshole should be six feet under for what he did and, God so help me, I will put him there myself-”
“JJ.” You interrupted the boy’s rant, wanting him to finish his point completely. Huffing out a puff of air, he continued.
“I’m sorry. I just, I really hate that that happened to you. And I know it happened to you, not me but I want to kill him. Every day that I wake up, I just hope he's dead somewhere.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.” You reassured.
“But all I’m trying to say is that, I don’t want to repeat that same cycle — taking advantage of your emotional state. I want you to be yourself again and be in the right space before trying to take this any further. And I want you to have no doubts and be completely sure.” You understood his point of view and his reasoning behind it. Nodding, you allowed him to finish his sentence. “So, for now? We can just figure things out, set some kinda boundaries, if you want.”
You thought about it for a moment, fingers drawing shapes on one of his hands. “...Just honesty. If you kiss someone, hook up with someone…” The words made your eyes twitch. “Just don’t let me find out from someone else.”
“Oh, I can promise you that I have no one else on my mind, especially now that I know I’m on yours, so there will be nothing to tell ‘n nothin’ to find out, m’lady.” He smiled, saluting towards you. “I’m all yours, even if you aren’t mine. Yet.” He winked.
It’d been weeks since you’d seen the goofy side of JJ. It was comforting.
You giggled, bowing your head slightly. “I promise that I am solely focused on clarifying my feelings towards you and only you, blondie.” You returned the sentiment and the salute. “What about our friendship, though? Is it still a friendship?”
“Mmm….” He thought aloud, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Actually, you’re the smart one. What’s like a fancy, silly term for developing a relationship? Like getting to know each other but not dating, like the in between stage?”
“...We can say we’re in a courtship?” You suggest half-jokingly, shrugging. “But… does this also mean we have to stop kissing each other? 'Cause I kind of like that part.”
JJ faked offense, throwing a palm against his chest and gasping. “Kissing?” He asked, wide eyed and shocked. “We are pogues. And number one rule of pogues, is no pogue-on-pogue macking…Eugh.” He reprimanded playfully, fake gagging. You slapped his shoulder in response, a smile on your face as one grew on his.
“No pogue-on-pogue macking, huh?” You said, playfully swatting his arms as he did yours. “
“That’s exactly right, little miss lips-a-lot - Ow! Did you just pinch my nipple?” He laugh-shouted, holding his chest as your swatting ceased. “What are you? Six?-”
You took the opportunity with JJ's guard down to grab the nape of his neck and pull his face into yours, giving him one last hard, passionate kiss of the night, slightly biting his lip as you drew your face away from his.
“How’s that for no pogue-on-pogue macking?”
next chapter>
feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.SVN Taglist; @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @liability28 @rivaiken @sophiahristov @rafxcameronss @ldrvinyl @purplerose291 @boo22sstuff @heartsforandrewgarfield @coolgirl458 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @jujubeaz @ellobruv-blog @yourmumstoy @belle101200 @libertyybellls @c4ttheart @ihe4rttwd @redhead1180 @ditzyzombiesblog @spideysimpossiblegirl @sex-me-stiles @honeyiti @rafedrewandjjs @highformaybank @broidfk609
©loveharlow.
#jj maybank x reader#svn#jj maybank#jj maybank fluff#jj mayback x reader#obx jj x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x you#jj maybank imagine#obx jj#obx jj maybank#jj maybank fanfiction#jj mayback imagine#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank angst#jj maybank x black!oc#jj maybank x heyward!reader#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank x black!reader#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank x oc#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x routledge!reader#SoundCloud
322 notes
·
View notes
Text
Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (11/15)
SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?
INSPO: this post
PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)
WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)
TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @lovebittenbyevans @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @httpsserene @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @xoscar03 @saturnville @weetjy @pinkcatcus @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @vile-harlot @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @destinyg237 @niahxo @purplelewlew @queenshikongo3
A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore
CHAPTER 11: Same Ol’ Mistakes
Flashback to Early 2019 - New York City
Laughter and chatter echoed through Ayesha's newly purchased condo in New York City. The housewarming party was in its prime, celebrating her big move and the start of her career at a prestigious law firm.
Rorie stepped in, Lewis by her side, her stomach fluttering with a mix of anticipation and nerves. After nearly four months of dating, she was finally introducing Lewis to her closest friends.
Their relationship had been a whirlwind, progressing faster than Rorie could have ever imagined. Despite Lewis's hectic racing schedule, they'd managed to steal moments together whenever possible - stolen weekends in exotic locales, late-night FaceTime calls, and surprise visits to race tracks. Rorie had fallen hard and fast, the intensity of their connection taking her by surprise.
"Ladies!" Rorie called out, approaching the group gathered in the living room. "There's someone I want you to meet."
Five heads turned, eyes widening as they took in Lewis Hamilton standing beside their friend. Rorie made the introductions: "Lewis, these are my girls - KiKi, Deja, Tia, Britt, and of course, our hostess, Ayesha."
A chorus of hellos and nice-to-meet-yous filled the air. As Lewis shook hands with each woman, Deja felt her breath catch. She'd recognize that smile anywhere - it was the same one that had dazzled her that night in New Orleans during All-Star weekend 2017.
Lewis paused as he reached Deja, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Have we met before? You look familiar."
Deja's heart raced, but she kept her cool. After all, she was here with her new boyfriend, a rookie for the Knicks. "Oh, I just have one of those faces," she said with a casual laugh. "I get that a lot."
Lewis nodded, accepting her explanation, and moved on to greet the others.
KiKi couldn't resist teasing, "So, the elusive Lewis finally graces us with his presence! We were starting to think Rorie had an imaginary boyfriend."
Britt chimed in, "Yeah, if it weren't for those paparazzi shots, we might not have believed you existed!"
Lewis laughed good-naturedly. "Sorry about that, ladies. The racing schedule can be a bit crazy as hell." As they settled into conversation, Lewis looked around the apartment approvingly. "This is a great neighborhood, Ayesha."
Ayesha beamed. "Thanks! It took some searching, but I think I've found the perfect spot."
Tia couldn't resist chiming in with a grin. "Speaking of perfect spots, Rorie, so this the man that's been flying you out to all those exotic locations? Your passport must be tired of you!"
Lewis smirked, a hint of cockiness in his voice. "Guilty as charged. What can I say? I like to show my girl the world."
Rorie playfully rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Don't encourage him, Tia. His ego's big enough as it is."
The group laughed, the atmosphere light and celebratory. KiKi leaned in, whispering to Rorie, "Damn, girl. You didn't tell us he was this fine up close. Does he have a brother, a cousin, something?"
"What about Khalil? I thought you two were trying to make it work?" Rorie asked, giving her friend a curious glance.
"Fuck that nigga, let me tell you how I had another bitch call me about messing around with him. I’m not trying to be nobody’s sister wife," KiKi shook her head with a sigh. "Besides, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."
Throughout the evening, Deja found herself stealing glances at Lewis, memories of that night in New Orleans flashing through her mind. But each time, she'd remind herself of her current relationship, of the life she was building now.
Rorie felt a sense of contentment wash over her. Her two worlds were merging seamlessly, and the future looked bright. Little did she know that beneath the surface of this perfect evening, seeds of future complications were already being sown.
The January chill nipped at Rorie's newly blonde locks as she stepped out of the car, New York City's skyline twinkling against the night sky. She ran a hand through her hair, still adjusting to the dramatic change. The decision to go blonde had been impulsive, a desire to shake things up for the new year, but now a flicker of self-consciousness crept in. The Maison Spoiled event buzzed with anticipation, fashion's elite mingling in a dazzling display of wealth and influence.
"Fuck, it's freezing," Rorie muttered, tugging her fur-trimmed collar closer. Lewis chuckled, his arm snaking around her waist as they approached the entrance.
"You'd think after all these years, you'd be used to it," he teased.
Inside, warmth enveloped them along with the soft clink of champagne flutes and hushed conversations. As Maison Spoiled's newest ambassador, Rorie felt the weight of expectation on her shoulders, coupled with a lingering exhaustion from their whirlwind trip to Brazil.
Their time in Bahia had been... intense, to say the least. Between lazy beach days and family time with Lyric, Rorie and Lewis had rediscovered a passion that left them both pleasantly sore and perpetually grinning. "Trying for a sibling," they'd joked, though the underlying hope was real.
Now, as they made their rounds, exchanging air kisses and pleasantries, Rorie caught snippets of conversation that made her pulse quicken.
"Hamilton to Ferrari? No way..."
"For 2025, I heard..."
Before she could process the implications, Julian Polak appeared before them, his eyes sparkling almost as brightly as the diamonds adorning the room.
"Rorie, Lewis! So glad you could make it," Julian beamed, clasping their hands warmly. "Rorie, you're absolutely glowing. Brazil must have agreed with you."
Rorie felt her cheeks warm, memories of sun-soaked skin and tangled sheets flashing through her mind. "It was... rejuvenating," she managed, sharing a knowing glance with Lewis.
As Julian launched into a passionate explanation of Maison Spoiled's vision, Rorie's mind raced. How had the Ferrari news leaked?
The night wore on, and the whispers grew louder. By the time they left, it was clear that Lewis's move to Ferrari was the worst-kept secret in the room.
Back in their hotel suite, Rorie kicked off her heels with a sigh. "Babe, we need to talk about what happened tonight."
Lewis nodded, loosening his tie. "I know. I've already got calls from Toto and the Ferrari team. We're gonna have to move up the announcement."
Rorie flopped onto the bed, her mind racing. "This is gonna be a shitshow, isn't it?"
Lewis sat beside her, running a hand through his hair. "Probably. But hey, at least it'll take some heat off the lawsuit drama, right?"
Rorie couldn't help but laugh. "Always looking on the bright side, huh?"
Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Kiki:
Girl, have you seen what's trending? #HamiltonToFerrari is blowing up!
"Great," Rorie groaned. "So much for keeping things quiet until your birthday."
Lewis's 39th birthday was just days away, and they'd planned to make the announcement then. Now, it seemed, they'd have to pivot.
"You know what?" Lewis said, pulling Rorie close. "Let's just roll with it. We'll confirm it tomorrow, have a proper celebration on my birthday, and deal with whatever comes our way."
Rorie snuggled into his embrace, feeling the tension start to ebb away. "You're right. We've dealt with worse, haven't we?"
As they lay there, strategizing and stealing kisses, Rorie's phone buzzed. It was Kiki calling.
"Girl, spill the tea!" Kiki's voice rang out as soon as Rorie answered and put her on speaker. "Is it true? Ferrari?"
Lewis chuckled. "News travels fast, huh?"
"You have no idea," Kiki replied. "So, it's legit?"
They spent the next few minutes giving Kiki a rundown of the situation, promising to fill her in on more details later.
After hanging up, Rorie turned to Lewis, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Speaking of Kiki... can you believe she did that to Deja?"
Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You mean the beat down? Yeah, but that's just KiKi."
Rorie shook her head, still in disbelief. "I can't believe she actually did it. I mean, I was thinking about doing it myself, but..."
Lewis burst out laughing. "You? Fighting? Babe, I've seen you stub your toe. You're not exactly Mike Tyson."
Rorie swatted his arm playfully. "Hey! I could totally throw down if I needed to."
Still chuckling, Lewis reached for the room service menu. "Sure, Rocky. How about we order some food instead of planning assaults?"
As they waited for their late-night feast, Lewis's phone pinged. He showed Rorie a photo from his mom, Carmen, of Lyric fast asleep in their Monaco home.
"Looks like he's settling in well," Rorie smiled, a hint of longing in her voice.
Lewis nodded, "Glad that he and Mum are doing well." His mother and Nina seem to have everything under control. The two of them were set for an extended stay in NYC before heading to Brackley for the unveiling of the 2024 season car for the upcoming F1 season.
The knock on the door came just as Rorie's stomach growled, perfectly timed. Lewis answered and wheeled in their feast, the aroma of truffle fries and gourmet burgers filling the suite.
They settled onto the plush sofa, plates balanced on their laps, when Lewis's eyes lit up with that mischievous glint Rorie knew all too well.
"You know," he said, taking a bite of his veggie burger, "this place has got me feeling all sorts of déjà vu."
Rorie glanced around, eyebrow raised. "Yeah? How come?"
Lewis grinned, a touch of nostalgia in his voice. "Babe, this is our old love nest. Same suite we holed up in when we first started dating. Remember? My condo was a construction zone, and we..."
"Oh my god," Rorie cut in, memories flooding back. A smile played on her lips as she recalled those early, heady days. "How could I forget? We barely left this room for a week."
"Mmm," Lewis hummed, pulling her close. "Maybe we should recreate some of those memories, for old times' sake."
Rorie laughed, but there was a glint in her eye. "Another night, maybe. We've got all week, after all."
As they ate, conversation flowed easily, jumping from topic to topic. Rorie found herself sighing wistfully. "You know, I kind of miss that condo. It had the best view of Central Park."
"We could always get another one," Lewis suggested, only half-joking. "Add it to our real estate empire."
Rorie rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Right, because what we need is another home to manage. Speaking of which..." She hesitated, then plunged ahead. "I've been thinking about hiring a personal assistant."
Lewis's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah? That's not a bad idea, considering how crazy things have been lately."
"I actually had Yael and Penni screen some candidates a few weeks back," Rorie continued, her excitement growing. "I've already done a couple of interviews. There are two that really stand out."
And just like that, they were off, Rorie detailing the potential assistants, their qualifications, and her impressions. Lewis listened intently, offering his thoughts and asking questions. The conversation meandered, touching on their early days, current challenges, and dreams for the future. The night stretched on, New York City humming below them, a perfect backdrop to their plans and promises.
A couple of days later, the early morning light filtered through the curtains of their suite, casting a warm glow over the room. Rorie stirred, slowly waking up to the gentle sound of Lewis’s breathing beside her, her bonnet slightly askew from her slumber. She turned to find him already awake, his phone in hand, the glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes.
"Happy birthday, babe," she whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Lewis smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he turned to her. "Thanks, love. Best way to wake up."
Rorie grinned, cuddling closer. "How does it feel to be one year older? The big 3-9."
"Like I’m just getting started," Lewis chuckled, setting his phone aside. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But I’ll admit, writing that post took a bit out of me."
"You posted it?" Rorie asked, propping herself up on one elbow, curiosity piqued.
"Just hit send," he nodded, a touch of nervousness in his voice. "It’s official. Everyone knows now."
Rorie gave him a reassuring smile. "I’m proud of you. This is a huge step, but it’s the right one."
Lewis leaned back against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. "Yeah, it’s been a long time coming. I’ve been with Mercedes for over a decade. But Ferrari… It feels like the right move for the next chapter."
"So, you’re really going to be wearing red, huh?" she teased, her tone light but with a hint of seriousness underneath. "Looks like Lyric needs to start learning Italian now."
Lewis chuckled, pulling her closer. "He's learning French from Nina, might as well add Italian to the list. He’ll be a little polyglot by the time he starts school."
Rorie laughed, imagining their toddler babbling in multiple languages. "Mmhmm, and you’ll be fluent in all of them, trying to keep up."
They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, until Rorie’s stomach growled, breaking the peaceful silence. Lewis laughed, his hand brushing her hair away from her face. "Breakfast in bed?"
"Definitely," Rorie agreed, her eyes lighting up. "But after we eat, you should check your phone. I bet the internet’s already buzzing."
Lewis sighed, knowing she was right. He reached for his phone, seeing the notifications already piling up, but he set it back down, choosing to focus on the woman in front of him instead. "The world can wait."
They spent the day in a blissful bubble, ordering room service, lounging around in their plush bathrobes, and indulging in their favorite reality shows. No extravagant parties, no guest lists—just the two of them, savoring every moment.
"Where are you sneaking off to?" he asked, his eyes following her every move.
"Just stay right there," Rorie called back over her shoulder, a playful smile on her lips as she padded across the room.
She disappeared for a moment, and when she returned, she wasn’t wearing her oversized t-shirt and boy shorts anymore. Instead, she’d slipped into something much more revealing—a black lace crotchless lingerie set that hugged every curve of her body. The sheer fabric clung to her skin, the delicate lace tracing the curve of her hips, and the thin straps crisscrossed over her back, leaving very little to the imagination.
Lewis’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her. "Damn, Rorie," he murmured, his voice low and filled with heat.
But Rorie wasn’t done yet. She reached behind her back and pulled out a small box, then from the other hand, a single cupcake that she had secretly ordered from room service earlier. The cupcake was simple—chocolate with a swirl of vanilla frosting and a single candle stuck in the middle.
"Happy birthday, Mr. President," she sang in a sultry voice, channeling her inner Marilyn Monroe as she swayed toward him, the cupcake in one hand and the box in the other.
Lewis’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched her, his mouth curling into a grin. "You really know how to spoil a man."
She placed the cupcake in his lap and then handed him the small velvet box. "I’ve got one more surprise for you."
His curiosity piqued, Lewis opened the box to find a pair of handcuffs nestled inside. His grin widened as he looked back up at her. "Now, this is going to be fun."
Rorie leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Happy birthday, baby. Make a wish."
Lewis held her gaze for a moment, the tension between them thickening, before he closed his eyes and blew out the single candle on the cupcake. When he opened them again, his expression was full of intent. "You know exactly what I want for my birthday," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Rorie giggled, running her hands through his braids. "Oh, I know," she replied teasingly, picking up the cupcake to place it on the bedside table. She then leaned in, their lips meeting in a slow, sensual kiss that quickly deepened, becoming more urgent as their need for each other grew. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers tracing the defined lines of his muscles before she pushed him gently back onto the bed. Lewis let her take control, his heart pounding in anticipation.
Climbing onto the bed to straddle his hips, the black lace lingerie barely contained the curve of her ass. The delicate fabric accentuated every inch of her body, and Lewis couldn't help but run his hands along her thighs, marveling at the softness of her skin.
"God, you look incredible," he breathed, his voice husky with desire.
Rorie smiled down at him, her hips moving in a slow, teasing grind against his growing arousal as her fingers slipped into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down.
Lewis watched her, his breath coming in shallow gasps as she took her time, savoring every moment. When she finally freed him, he groaned in relief, his hands gripping her hips as he urged her closer.
But Rorie wasn’t done teasing him. She leaned forward, her hands braced on either side of his head as she kissed him again, her tongue slipping into his mouth to taste him. Then, she pulled back slightly, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "Are you ready for your present?"
Lewis’s answer was a low growl, his hands tightening on her hips. "I’ve been ready all day."
With a wicked grin, Rorie reached for the handcuffs and secured one around his wrist, her movements slow and deliberate, giving him plenty of time to protest if he wanted to. But Lewis didn’t. He watched her with dark, hungry eyes, his teeth biting his lower lip as the anticipation made his pulse race.
Once his hands were cuffed to the headboard, Rorie sat back on his thighs, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before her. Lewis Hamilton, the man who commanded so much power and respect on the track, was now completely at her mercy. And she intended to make the most of it.
She pressed a kiss to his chest, then another, trailing her lips down the hard planes of his torso. Lewis shuddered beneath her touch, his muscles tensing as she moved lower, her mouth leaving a heated trail across his skin.
"Rorie," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Don’t make me beg."
She chuckled softly, her breath ghosting over his abdomen as she glanced up at him. "I love hearing you beg, though."
With that, she took him in her mouth, and Lewis let out a low growl. The sensation of Rorie’s lips and tongue on him was almost too much to handle. He tried to focus on the feeling of euphoria building within him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with every movement of Rorie’s head.
He tugged on the handcuffs instinctively, wanting to hold onto something as pleasure coursed through his body. Rorie smiled around him knowing the effect she was having on him. Her mouth worked magic on him, her tongue swirling and sucking with expert precision. Lewis’s hips lifted off the bed, desperate for more as he lost himself in the moment. He could feel the tension building in his core, and he knew he was close. But Rorie seemed to sense it too, because she pulled back suddenly, leaving him panting and aching for release.
"Not yet," she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction. "I’m not finished with you."
"Fuck…baby…" Lewis groaned in frustration, his voice thick with need. "What are you—"
His words were cut off as Rorie climbed up his body, straddling him again but this time facing away, causing him to have an eyeful of her pert ass. She reached behind her, teasing him with her touch as she positioned herself over his throbbing erection. Slowly, agonizingly, she lowered herself onto him until he was buried deep inside her.
They both moaned at the overwhelming sensation, Rorie gasping as she took him to the hilt. The feeling of him stretching her so perfectly made her shiver with pleasure. Lewis's hands clenched around the handcuffs, his muscles tensing as he strained to move with her, desperate to match her rhythm but unable to do anything but lie there and take it.
Rorie began to rock her hips back and forth, setting a slow, torturous pace that had Lewis gritting his teeth in frustration. "Please," he begged, his voice raw with need. "I need more."
A soft laugh escaped Rorie’s lips as she looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You want more?" she asked teasingly, her voice a seductive purr. "You want me to fuck you harder?"
Lewis's response was a low, primal growl as he bucked his hips up to meet hers, driving himself even deeper inside her. The sudden movement made Rorie moan loudly, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through her body.
She began to move faster, bouncing on his lap with reckless abandon, her moans and the sound of her skin slapping against him filling the room. Lewis’s head fell back against the pillows, his entire body taut with pleasure as he watched her, utterly captivated by the way she moved.
"F-fuck," he groaned, unable to form any other coherent words as she took him closer and closer to the edge. His entire world had narrowed down to the feel of her tight heat surrounding him, the sound of her moans, and the sight of her body moving so perfectly above him.
Rorie’s hands trailed down his thighs, gripping them tightly for support as she rode him with everything she had. Her body glistened with sweat, her hair falling in wild tendrils around her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Lewis felt inside her, the way he was making her feel like she was on fire.
She could feel her own orgasm building, the tension in her body coiling tighter and tighter with each movement. Lewis’s eyes were glued to her, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and adoration that only made her want him more. He loved seeing Rorie like this—uninhibited, wild, and completely lost in the moment.
"God, you feel so fucking good," Lewis groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wanted this to last, wanted to savor every second of it, but Rorie was making it impossible. "You take this dick so well, baby."
She sped up her movements, her moans turning into cries of pleasure as she chased her release, her body moving with a frantic urgency. "Lewis," she gasped, her voice breathless and desperate. "I’m so close…"
"Me too, baby," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet hers with each thrust. "Come with me."
That was all it took. With a final, desperate cry, Rorie’s orgasm crashed over her, her body trembling with the intensity of it. The sight of her coming undone above him, the feel of her tightening around him, sent Lewis over the edge as well. He came hard, his entire body shuddering with the force of his release as he emptied himself inside her.
They stayed like that for a few moments, both of them breathless and trembling from the aftershocks of their shared pleasure. Eventually, Rorie released his hands before collapsing onto the bed beside him, her body still humming with satisfaction. Lewis reached out with his newly freed hands, pulling her into his arms and holding her close.
As they lay there, their breathing slowly returning to normal, Rorie let out a soft, contented sigh. "You might’ve sweated out my silk press," she teased, her voice playful and light.
Lewis chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Worth it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She smiled, snuggling closer to him, her heart full as she closed her eyes. "Definitely worth it," she whispered, her voice filled with love and contentment.
A few weeks later...
The Bahrain sun beat down mercilessly as Lewis strode through the paddock, his race suit unzipped to the waist. The air thrummed with anticipation, mechanics and engineers scurrying about like worker bees.
"Fuck, it's hot," Lewis muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "You sure you two don't want to wait in the air-conditioned hospitality area?"
Rorie shook her head, her newly blonde hair catching the sunlight. "We're good. Right, Lyric? We want to see Daddy off properly."
Lyric nodded enthusiastically, his little hands gripping Lewis's race suit. "Daddy fast car!"
They scanned the Mercedes garage, taking in the controlled chaos around them. C.J. appeared, tablet in hand, his presence a welcome addition to their entourage.
"Rorie," he said, his voice calm amidst the noise, "just a reminder that you have that call with Tommy Hilfiger in two hours. Do you want me to set up in the hospitality suite?"
Rorie nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, C.J. That would be perfect. And can you make sure Lyric's snacks are ready? He's going to need a distraction during the call."
"Already taken care of," C.J. winked, high-fiving Lyric before stepping away to handle the arrangements.
Lewis couldn't help but smile. "I still can't believe how quickly he's gotten a handle on everything. Reminds me of KiKi, but with better organizational skills."
Rorie laughed, the sound carrying over the roar of engines being fired up nearby. "Don't let KiKi hear you say that. She'll have your head."
They stood there for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere. Lewis felt that familiar pre-race buzz coursing through his veins, heightened by the knowledge that this was his last season with Mercedes.
"You nervous?" Rorie asked, reading his expression like an open book.
Lewis shook his head, holding onto Lyric's hands as he wriggled around him. "Nah, just… ready, you know? After New York, I feel like I could conquer the world."
Memories of their New York getaway flashed through his mind. Late nights, room service breakfasts, and days spent tangled in sheets… It had been exactly what they needed before diving back into the madness of the F1 season.
A mischievous glint appeared in Rorie's eyes. "Well, that week was pretty spectacular. Maybe we should make it a pre-season tradition."
"Don't tempt me," Lewis growled playfully, leaning in for a kiss that was perhaps a touch too heated for their surroundings.
"Oi, lovebirds!" Bono's voice cut through their moment. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need our driver in the car, not making out in the paddock."
Lewis chuckled, handing Lyric over to Rorie. "Duty calls. You two behave yourselves, yeah?"
"Us? Always," Rorie grinned, adjusting Lyric on her hip. "It's you we're worried about. Don't go breaking any records today, it's just testing."
"No promises," Lewis winked. With a final kiss, Lewis jogged towards the garage, his mind shifting gears. The unveiling at Brackley, the Vogue party in London - it all felt like a distant dream and now he was preparing for another long season.
As he slipped into the cockpit, the familiar scent of leather and fuel enveloping him, Lewis felt that surge of adrenaline he'd come to love. This was his element, where everything else faded away and it was just him, the car, and the track.
"Alright, Lewis," Bono's voice crackled through the radio. "You ready to show these youngsters how it's done?"
Lewis grinned, revving the engine. "Let's fucking do this, Bono."
As he pulled out of the pit lane, Lewis caught one last glimpse of Rorie and Lyric. Rorie gave him a thumbs up, her decision to step back from social media and focus on family making her presence here all the more special.
Lewis's car disappeared down the track, and Rorie felt the familiar mix of pride and anxiety wash over her. She bounced Lyric gently on her hip, more to soothe herself than him.
"Alright, little man," she said, turning away from the track. "Let's go find C.J. and get ready for Mama's call."
They made their way through the paddock, Rorie nodding and smiling at familiar faces. The F1 world was like a traveling circus, and after years of being part of it, she'd grown accustomed to the rhythm of testing and race weekends, but this year felt different. With Lewis's impending move to Ferrari looming on the horizon, there was an undercurrent of anticipation that seemed to follow them everywhere.
As they entered the air-conditioned oasis of the hospitality suite, Rorie let out a sigh of relief. The Bahrain heat was no joke, and she silently thanked whoever invented air conditioning.
C.J. was already there, his efficiency never failing to impress her. He had a laptop set up, a spread of healthy snacks for Lyric arranged nearby, and was typing away on his tablet.
"Everything's ready, Rorie," he said with a smile as they approached. "I've got the Tommy Hilfiger team on standby for your call in about an hour and a half. Also, I took the liberty of preparing some talking points for the new campaign, if you'd like to review them."
Rorie nodded gratefully. "Thanks, C.J. You're a lifesaver."
C.J. grinned, a hint of sass in his voice. "Just doing my job. Though I do expect a glowing review at my next performance evaluation."
Rorie laughed, appreciating his ability to keep things light even during their hectic schedule. "Keep this up, and you might just get it."
She settled Lyric with his snacks and toys, and her mind wandered to the upcoming campaign. Despite her decision to take a step back from social media, her commitment to her partnerships remained strong. The Tommy Hilfiger collaboration was a big deal, and she was determined to give it her all.
"Mama, look!" Lyric's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He was holding up a crayon drawing of what she assumed was meant to be Lewis's car.
"That's beautiful, baby," she smiled, ruffling his braids. "Should we hang it up for Daddy to see later?"
As she helped Lyric tape his masterpiece to the wall, Rorie caught a glimpse of one of the monitors showing the track. Lewis's car zipped past, a blur of silver against the desert backdrop. She felt her heart rate quicken, a mixture of excitement and worry that she'd grown accustomed to over the years.
"He's looking good out there," C.J. commented, following her gaze.
Rorie nodded, her eyes still on the screen. "Yeah, he is. Last season with Mercedes... he's got a lot to prove."
"Don't they all?" C.J. quipped, earning a chuckle from Rorie.
She turned her attention back to the papers C.J. had prepared, immersing herself in the details of the Tommy Hilfiger campaign. As she read, she couldn't help but reflect on how much her life had changed. From financial analyst to philanthropist and entrepreneur, married to one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time... sometimes it still felt surreal.
"Rorie?" C.J.'s voice broke through her reverie. "The Tommy Hilfiger team is ready whenever you are."
Rorie took a deep breath, centering herself. "Alright, let's do this."
She sat down in front of the laptop, Lyric coloring quietly nearby under C.J.'s watchful eye, Rorie felt a sense of purpose wash over her. She might be taking a step back from the limelight, but she was still very much in the game.
The call began, and Rorie slipped effortlessly into her professional persona, discussing designs, photoshoot concepts, and marketing strategies. As she talked, she could hear the distant roar of engines from the track, a reminder of the two worlds she straddled.
An hour later, as she wrapped up the call, Rorie felt a sense of accomplishment. She'd nailed the meeting, Lyric had behaved perfectly (with some help from C.J.'s expert distraction techniques), and according to the occasional updates from the team, Lewis was putting in some impressive lap times.
"Mama, hungry," Lyric announced as soon as she closed the laptop.
Rorie laughed, scooping him up. "Me too, baby. What do you say we go find some lunch and then see if we can catch Daddy between runs?"
C.J. chimed in, already tapping away at his tablet. "I can have something brought up if you'd prefer to stay in the cool air. Or I've got a list of the best spots in the paddock if you're feeling adventurous."
Rorie considered for a moment, bouncing Lyric gently. "You know what? Let's be adventurous. We've been cooped up in here long enough."
They made their way out of the hospitality suite and into the bustling paddock. The energy was palpable, with teams rushing about and journalists hunting for stories.
As they navigated through the crowd, Rorie spotted a familiar face heading their way. Toto Wolff, Mercedes team principal, approached with a warm smile.
"Rorie, Lyric! How are my favorite spectators doing?" he greeted them, ruffling Lyric's hair affectionately.
"We're good, Toto. Just finished up a call and now on a hunt for some lunch. How's Lewis looking out there?" Rorie asked, unable to keep the hint of concern from her voice.
Toto's smile widened. "He's in top form. You'd never know it was testing, the way he's pushing. But then again, when does Lewis ever take it easy?"
They chatted for a few more minutes, the conversation naturally drifting to the upcoming season and the changes it would bring. As they said their goodbyes, Rorie couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. This would be their last season with Mercedes, a team that had become like family over the years.
"You okay?" C.J. asked softly as they continued their quest for food.
Rorie nodded, plastering on a smile. "Yeah, just... a lot of emotions, you know? But we're here to support Lewis and enjoy the ride. Speaking of which, I think I smell burgers. What do you say, Lyric? Ready for some lunch?"
As they approached the food stalls, the aroma of grilled meat and spices filling the air, Rorie noticed a woman standing near one of the counters. The stranger's gaze was fixed intently on her and Lyric, a little too intensely for comfort.
Rorie leaned closer to C.J., keeping her voice low. "Hey, do you know who that is? The woman in the blue top?"
C.J. glanced discreetly in the direction Rorie indicated, his brow furrowing. "I don't recognize her, but she's got a paddock pass. Must be with one of the teams or media."
Just then, the woman locked eyes with Rorie. A wide smile spread across her face as she began making her way towards them with determined strides.
Rorie felt a flicker of unease, instinctively holding Lyric a little tighter. Before she could react further, her bodyguard, who had been maintaining a respectful distance, smoothly intercepted the approaching woman.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the bodyguard said politely but firmly. "I'm going to have to ask you to step back."
The woman blurted out, "Rorie! I'm Athena... I'm your sister. Well, half-sister."
Rorie felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. She instinctively held Lyric a little tighter, skepticism evident in her eyes.
Athena, sensing Rorie's disbelief, quickly pulled out her phone. "I know this must be a shock. Here, let me show you..." She swiped through a series of recent photos showing her with Martin and two young men. "That's our dad, and those are our brothers, Azariah and Aaron."
Rorie's mind raced, trying to process this unexpected encounter. She glanced at C.J., who looked equally stunned but maintained his professional composure.
"I... I don't know what to say," Rorie managed, her voice barely above a whisper. She studied Athena's face, searching for any family resemblance.
Same nose, same chin. Just like the men in the pictures as well.
Athena's smile faltered slightly. "I'm sorry to spring this on you like this. I've been wanting to meet you for so long, and when I saw you here... I couldn't let the opportunity pass."
Rorie took a deep breath, trying to center herself. "This is... a lot to take in. How did you even get in here?"
"I'm an intern with one of the media teams," Athena explained. "I didn't plan this, I swear. It was just luck."
C.J. stepped closer, his voice low. "Rorie, do you want me to handle this?"
Rorie shook her head, her eyes never leaving Athena. "No, it's... it's okay." She paused, weighing her next words carefully. "Look, Athena, I appreciate you reaching out, but this isn't the time or place for this conversation. There's a lot to unpack here."
Athena nodded, looking crestfallen but understanding. "Of course, I get it. I'm sorry for ambushing you like this. Could we... maybe talk later? When you're ready?"
Rorie hesitated, then nodded. "Give your contact info to C.J. here. We'll be in touch."
As Athena scribbled her details on C.J.'s tablet, Rorie's mind whirled with questions and emotions. This encounter had just added another layer of complexity to an already tumultuous time.
"Mama, hungry," Lyric's small voice broke through her thoughts, grounding her in the present moment.
"Right, baby. Let's get some food," Rorie said, grateful for the distraction. As they turned back to the food stalls, she knew one thing for certain - she and Lewis would have a lot to discuss tonight.
______________________________________________
Lewis looked up from where he was helping Lyric into his pull-up, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Sister? Aaliyah's here?"
Rorie shook her head from a nearby armchair, her fingers flying over her phone screen as she scrolled through search results. "No, not Aaliyah. Athena. Apparently, she's my half-sister. Martin's daughter."
"What the fuck?" Lewis muttered under his breath, careful to keep his voice low enough that Lyric wouldn't pick up on it. He finished fastening the pull-up and reached for the lotion. "When did this happen?"
"At the food stalls earlier," Rorie replied, her eyes still glued to her phone. "She just... appeared. Said she's an intern with some media team."
Lewis smoothed lotion over Lyric's skin, his mind racing. "And you're sure she's legit?"
Rorie sighed, finally looking up from her phone. "She had pictures, Lewis. Her with Martin and two guys she said were our brothers. And get this - she's in a master's program for communications in London. Interning with a boutique media agency that covers sports, trying to break into F1."
"Convenient," Lewis remarked, his tone skeptical as he helped Lyric into his pajamas. "Bit of a coincidence, don't you think? Her just happening to be here?"
"My thoughts exactly," Rorie agreed. "I mean, it's the first race of the season. Of course, I'd be here. It feels... I don't know, orchestrated somehow."
Lewis finished buttoning Lyric's pajama top and gestured for Rorie to join them on the bed. She set her phone aside and sat cross-legged on the mattress, creating a little family circle. Lewis reached for the small jar of argan oil pomade they used for Lyric's hair.
As he gently worked the product into Lyric's scalp, careful not to disturb the neat braids, he asked, "What do you want to do about it?"
Rorie watched Lewis's careful movements, a small smile playing on her lips despite her troubled thoughts. She loved these quiet family moments. "I don't know. Part of me is curious, but..."
"But you're worried it's some kind of set-up," Lewis finished for her. He understood her hesitation all too well. Their life in the spotlight had taught them to be cautious, especially when it came to unexpected family appearances.
"Exactly," Rorie nodded. She reached out to hold Lyric's hand, the toddler's eyes already drooping with sleep. "C.J. has her contact info. Told her we'd be in touch."
Lewis finished moisturizing Lyric's scalp and carefully slipped a silky bonnet over the child's head. "Well, we don't have to decide anything tonight. Let's sleep on it, yeah? See how you feel in the morning."
Rorie managed a small smile, grateful for his steady presence. "Yeah, you're right. One crisis at a time, right?"
"Story time!" Lyric suddenly piped up, his sleepy eyes widening with renewed energy.
Lewis chuckled, reaching for the book on the nightstand. "Alright, little man. One story, then bed. Deal?"
They settled in, Lyric nestled between them, as Lewis began to read. It was a familiar tale about a little race car that could, one of Lyric's favorites. Rorie found herself relaxing as she listened to Lewis's soothing voice, the day's stresses momentarily fading away.
As the story came to an end, Lyric's eyes were firmly shut, his breathing deep and even. Lewis carefully scooped him up, and together they carried him to his crib in the adjoining room.
They stood there for a moment, watching their son sleep peacefully. Lewis wrapped an arm around Rorie's waist, pulling her close. "Whatever you decide about Athena, I'm here. We'll figure it out together."
Rorie leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence. "I know. Thank you."
As they made their way back to their own bed, Lewis couldn't help but marvel at the constant curveballs life seemed to throw their way.
TO BE CONTINUED...
#emjayewrites#lewis hamilton#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fanfic#sir lewis hamilton x black!reader#lewis hamilton x black!reader#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton x black oc#private landing
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
an adorable bad boy | loveable!rogue!harry
This is part 1 of a Patreon series (all 10 parts have been posted on Patreon already). If you'd like more check out my Patreon! xoxo
A loveable rogue is someone who breaks the law for personal profit while being nice and charming, likely with a sad or dark past.
AU Premise: Harry has been in and out of jail for nearly a decade due to a string of bad luck and bad choices. But he's not a bad guy. Not really.
Summary: Harry's trying to keep on the straight and narrow now that he's out of jail but things have never come easy for him. And then he meets the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Maybe things won't be so bad after all. If only she'd give him her number.
Word Count: 3.8k
Warning: Mentions of drugs and the sale of drugs, mentions of jail time
❊❊❊
Harry’s life sucked. Every time he tried to get on the right track, his past would come back to haunt him. He took responsibility for the things he did and he knew he deserved to have the book thrown at him. But he also knew where he came from didn’t make things easier for him. Starting at a young age he had to act like an adult and do things most people would never imagine needing to do just to get by.
Now, nearing 30, he was determined to get his shit together. If he had to step foot in another jail cell again he was going to just end it. He couldn’t handle another sentence that had him losing a job, his car, the place he was staying… Every time he got into trouble it was like he had to start over again. From scratch.
And he was always well-behaved once behind bars so he usually got out early on good behavior. But keeping out of trouble as a free man was nearly impossible. He’d be tossed out on the street once he was released but with no place to go and not a dime to his name, times were hard. He had to hustle for a dollar. And when he meant hustle, it usually involved something illegal.
Getting a job that paid well was a joke. No one wanted a convicted felon. No one would hire a man who had a criminal record. Why risk it? He sure as hell wouldn’t if he were in their shoes.
There was no program to help him reintegrate. No help for a safe spot to sleep. Shelters wouldn’t even allow him a safe haven due to his past. He had nothing. Incarceration meant drudging through, keeping his head down, and following directions. That was easy. But there was nothing easy about rebuilding his life over and over again once he was out from behind bars.
His sister wouldn’t answer his calls anymore. He’d drained that well dry. His mother had cut him off too. His cousin was a last resort, but that’s sort of how his life was these days. Everything was a last resort.
“Harry! My dude! You get out?”
He was leaning against a tall residential building in an alley with a cigarette in hand. The phone he was using was the one that he had when he got locked up, kept for him upon his release. The officer helping him fill out his release forms allowed him to charge his phone before they pushed him out the doors. How kind.
The wifi signal from the bookstore gave him access to his apps so he could make the phone call he was dreading.
“Yep. Glad to be out of there. How are you doing?” He figured he’d make some small talk before getting to the point. He didn’t want to be rude, after all.
Saul gave him the rundown of what had been going on with everyone. And then Harry learned he was engaged.
“Wow. Congrats, cousin. Proud of you. You guys living together?”
“Nah. Not until after the wedding. She’s a really good girl. Super sweet. Her whole family is. Just like, the nicest people I’ve ever met. But she doesn’t want to move in until we’re married since that looks bad to her parents,” Saul laughed. “They’re super conservative about stuff like that. They think she’s still a virgin.”
Harry humored him with a chortle through the phone and then sighed. The sun was going down. Small talk needed to come to a halt. He had to get this part over with.
“So, uh… hate to ask this but um, could you let me crash at your place for a few nights? I’ve got nowhere to go since I just got out and gonna be cold tonight. Otherwise, I’d just sleep in the park or something.”
Silence for a few uncomfortable seconds.
“Did you ask your sister? I mean I’m sure–“
“She hates me right now. Won’t take my calls. But man, look, it’s okay if you can’t. I get it.”
“You know what? Sure. You can stay here for a bit. I know shit’s hard. How you gettin’ here?”
Harry let out the breath he’d been holding in and leaned his head back into the building in relief, “Gonna walk. Literally have nothing to my name. Just my old cell phone, half charged, and this free wifi I’m using to call you. I can get there in like an hour.”
Saul told him he’d pick him up but Harry didn’t want to trouble him anymore than he had. It was already embarrassing asking for help. Plus a walk through the city would feel good. It’d been a while since he’d seen the hustle and bustle of daily life in the city.
It was late September. He was wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with boots. At least he had a beanie on his head. His cousin lived in one of those “up-and-coming” neighborhoods. Gritty but recently gentrified. His flat was two floors up. A flimsy plastic call button for the residents hung outside the reinforced glass door that opened up to a small lobby with mailboxes in the wall to the left and just beyond that, old wooden stairs that led up to each apartment.
Saul was on floor three. Harry took the stairs two at a time and the door was already open with his smiling cousin waiting for him and then a warm embrace that made Harry feel like maybe he was going to be okay. Silly as it sounded. He hadn’t been hugged in over a year. Hadn’t felt safe and relaxed in over a year.
“Ordered some pizza from this fire spot. Should be here soon. Beer?”
Harry could cry. He hadn’t had pizza or beer in over a year either. There was a lot he hadn’t had in over a year.
“Uh, yeah. Thank you, man.”
Harry followed Saul into his tiny galley kitchen and leaned against the frame of the door as he watched his cousin pull a beer from the fridge, “And thank you for everything. For this. I really mean it. I’ll pay you back as soon as I get a job.”
Handing Harry his beer Saul laughed, “We’ll see. Alyssa and I might need help for the wedding next summer. Her dad wants to have the wedding at their place. They’ve got this nice house with a massive garden in the back. But they need people to help landscape and do some manual labor to get it ready. Might save us a little money if you could help. But that’s a ways off,” he waved his hand as he walked past Harry into the living room. “Don’t worry about it right now. I’ll figure out a way you can pay me back.”
. . .
A few nights turned into a few weeks. And Harry did find a job, but he’d need to save up for a while longer to be able to afford a place on his own. He figured, at least he could pay Saul for food and help pay some of the bills in the meantime.
Fortunately, the job he found paid pretty well. Unfortunately, it was illegal. It was what had gotten him thrown in jail in the first place.
Selling drugs. Mainly weed. Some shrooms, ecstasy, molly… party drugs.
He applied to 28 places. Twenty. Eight. Dishwasher, food prep, janitor, midnight stocker, busboy, fast food line cook… everything he could find from places that might take a chance on someone with a record. After a week of having Harry sleeping on his couch, Saul appeared to be getting frustrated. So, Harry did what he always did when he needed money (and who doesn’t need money?). He called Memo.
Memo always had a spot for Harry. And because he trusted Harry he gave him an advance.
The first thing Harry did with his money was buy some clothes for himself and groceries for the house. Getting rid of his supply was easy. He still had all his old contacts to sell to and with Harry’s natural charm, he was introduced to even more people who wanted some killer weed and Harry was their man.
Saul seemed to lighten up a bit when Harry began paying him cash for his part of the bills and to help cover some of the rent.
Being a drug dealer bought him time. Eventually, he’d find a better gig. He knew there were places that would hire felons, he just had to be patient. But in the meantime, doing shady shit to get by was necessary.
“So, I’m going out tonight. With Alyssa and a few others. Just going to Ray’s. You can join us if you want.”
Harry was sitting on the couch readying himself for another night in but maybe going out with his cousin for a few beers could be fun, “Anyone I know going?”
Saul shook his head, “Doubt it. It’ll be Alyssa, her little sister, and a few of our mutual friends.”
Harry figured it was better if the people that were going to be there didn’t know him. And besides, what better way to spend a Friday night as a single man? Sitting at Saul’s house was fine, but going out and meeting new people with a few beers in hand sounded a hell of a lot better.
Harry nodded, “Why not?”
. . .
Roy’s might have been an old hole in the wall, but it was a popular old hole in the wall. Harry could hear the music before they walked into the black brick building with the lighted, vintage metal sign that hung above the door.
The smell of stale cigarettes and beer hung in the dark space, a shiny lacquered bar that ran half the length of the room, high-top tables, two pool tables, and a few booths.
Alyssa nearly pummeled Saul, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the cheek as she squealed.
“We’re just over here! Tony got us a big booth 'cause he got here early.” She pulled Saul along with her. Harry followed.
The group that came into view were two young men and two young women. He barely had a chance to take it all in before Alyssa pulled his arm, “Everyone! This is Harry, Saul’s cousin. The one we were telling you about.”
The one we were telling you about. Harry knew what that meant.
Harry smiled and nodded as he slid into the booth. It was long and easily accommodated all seven of them.
“I’m Kelin,” the man he sat next to held his hand out to Harry to shake. The one next to Kelin greeted Harry, “I’m Tony,” he turned and looked at the girl next to him, “And this is my girlfriend, Dasha.” Dasha smiled and waved at Harry.
Then as Alyssa moved into the opposite side of the booth with Saul at the end she hugged the girl next to Dasha, “And this is my little sister, Y/n.”
Some moments in time are unexplainable. Like moments when things feel like fate but you don’t believe in that sort of thing. Or like when someone is speaking a language you don’t know but you swear you understood everything they just said. Sometimes it was more like a riddle you couldn’t figure out all day only to wake up in the middle of the night from a dream with the answer.
The moment Y/n set her pretty gaze upon Harry was like that for him. Something inexplicable. Something enchanting. Almost mythical.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Harry spoke as he tried to tear his eyes from the angel called Y/n. He forced his pupils away to look at everyone else but his heart was already beginning to thump violently in his chest.
Drinks were ordered and conversation resumed to wherever it was left off before Saul and Harry’s arrival.
“So, we were discussing anything but the wedding!” Dasha laughed as Alyssa moaned exaggeratedly.
“I was only letting you guys know the theme!” Alyssa laughed.
“Girl, tonight is a night off. And the wedding isn’t for like another 8 months!”
Harry tried to focus on the conversation as he sipped his beer but he couldn’t help allowing his eyes the indulgence of Y/n’s pretty face. She had some kind of clear drink. A vodka soda maybe. And when Kelin started talking about the Halloween party he was throwing Y/n’s eyes met Harry’s again and he thought he was going to fall limp to the floor in a puddle at her feet.
He didn’t even know what her voice sounded like and he was already imagining waking up next to her in the morning and getting to see her disheveled hair and warm pajamas and soft, tired eyes. He had never had such a visceral reaction to anyone before. Ever.
Another round of drinks made its way to the table and Harry hardly spoke a word. Y/n only laughed a few times at what was being said but otherwise, she remained quiet as she sipped her drink.
He needed to talk to her. He needed to learn all about her. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important, so vital to him. But every time she looked at him his throat went dry and he searched her face for any sign that she might be feeling the same odd connection that he was feeling.
“I need a cigarette,” Y/n spoke as she looked at Alyssa, making Saul and Alyssa scoot out of the booth to let her out.
Harry tapped his fingers on the table as he watched her walk past before speaking up, “Yeah, me too.” He hopped up from the booth and jogged to catch up with his dream girl before she could push the door open.
“Allow me,” he grabbed the handle and opened the door for her.
“What a gentleman. Thank you,” she grinned teasingly at him and Harry felt his head swirl and his knees go weak. She smiled at him and he was sure he was in love at that moment.
“I try,” he chuckled as he followed her to the edge of the building before she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. Harry liked the same brand.
He pulled out his lighter and held it out as she put the filter between her lips. The flame lit the tip and then Harry put his own cigarette into his mouth and lit it.
“You have good taste,” Y/n gestured with her cigarette toward his and watched his mouth as he inhaled the smoke into his lungs.
“Guess we both do,” he blew the smoke out and it mixed with the smoke she blew out at the same time.
“Heard you recently got out of jail. Alyssa told me to keep my distance,” she laughed as she took another puff, her eyes on his.
“Yeah. Trying to keep on the straight and narrow now. Jail sucks,” he let his gaze wander over her lips and jawline and down to her neck, “I’m not that bad, though. You gonna get in trouble with your big sister for having a smoke with me?”
She snorted (which Harry found adorable and irresistible) and shook her head, “I’m an adult. She tries to act protective and tough but she knows better than to tell me what I can and can’t do. In fact,” she took a drag and lowered her gaze to Harry’s outfit and then back up to his eyes before exhaling, “When she tells me not to do something it just makes me want to do it more.”
Harry felt his face grow warm as he listened to her speak and couldn’t help the smile that took over his face, dimples winking awake in his cheeks.
“Oh shit,” she leaned into the brick and crossed an arm over her middle, one arm angled out with the cigarette propped between her two fingers, “You’ve got dimples.”
Harry ashed his stick, keeping the smile on his face, “I guess I do. Is it okay?”
Y/n laughed softly, the prettiest sound Harry had ever heard, and nodded, “Of course it’s okay. It’s adorable.”
“Adorable…” Harry repeated as he leaned his shoulder into the brick and faced Y/n, “Think I’m adorable?” He pulled his lips into his mouth, tamping his wide smile as he blushed. Yeah, he was blushing.
She reached her hand up to his shoulder-length hair to tug at a curl, “You are. Pretty curls, green eyes, dimples. I get why Alyssa didn’t want me to get mixed up with you. An adorable bad boy. Dangerous combo.”
Harry shook his head and looked down at her feet before winding his pupils up her frame to her face, “Bad boy? Nah, not really. Just made some stupid decisions.”
Y/n shrugged and pulled at her cigarette before blowing out the hot smoke, “Mmm….” She pursed her lips and squinted at him, “You’re definitely a bad boy. You kind of emanate that persona. And I bet you use those dimples to charm all the ladies.”
Harry chuckled and looked down again to give his retinas a break from her breathtaking beauty. When he looked back at her he shook his head slowly, “If anything you’re the charmer. Making me blush over here.”
She giggled and leaned her head back as she looked up into the sky. Harry was not going to be getting over her laugh. He knew he’d be dreaming about it too.
“I’m just honest is all. Not particularly charming I don’t think.”
Harry shook his head and pointed at her, “No. You are definitely charming. Sweeping me right off my feet.”
“Oh, I am? Falling for me already, Harry?” She smirked at him and turned her body to face his, mimicking his stance.
Was it too soon for him to fall for her? Yes. But Harry was never one to play by usual timelines. He grinned and licked his lips, “Be bad if I said I was?”
She puffed out a laugh, “Probably would be bad. You don’t even know me. I’m really not all that great. Lots of issues. Very unstable,” she laughed as she gestured at her head and then wrapped her lips around the filter to inhale.
“If that’s the case, then you’re just that much cuter,” Harry parted his lips to place the cigarette between them as he kept his eyes on hers.
She bit her lip and turned to look out into the street, “You gonna go to the Halloween party next week?”
Harry shook his head, “Probably not. Wasn’t invited. Don’t like to dress up for shit like that anyway.”
“Hmm… If you go I’ll go,” she turned to look at him and raised her brows.
Harry stitched his brows together and tilted his head, “Are you serious?”
She nodded, “Sure. Why not. Wasn’t planning on going either but I will if you do.”
Harry narrowed his eyes at her and grinned, “Still wasn’t invited, though. We’ll see.”
Y/n tossed her butt down to the ground and stepped over the tip to crunch out the burning end, “Probably should get back in there. Alyssa’s gonna think we’ve run off together. That’d really get her going.”
Harry chuckled and followed suit with his own cigarette and nodded before following her back to the booth in the bar.
This time, as luck would have it, Harry scooted into his original spot and Y/n sat down next to him at the end.
“I wish you wouldn’t smoke,” Alyssa frowned at Y/n and Harry leaned forward to put his elbows on the table as he turned to look at Y/n’s profile. She was certainly stunning.
Y/n shook her head and looked at Dasha, “Will you pass my drink down?”
Harry looked down at his lukewarm beer and pushed himself into the seat, his back hitting the vinyl cushion behind him before turning his head to watch as Y/n drank from her glass.
Everyone at the table resumed their conversation but both Harry and Y/n were thinking about the way their thighs were pressed together and how warm it felt. How nice it was.
“You’re staring,” she whispered with a grin as she set her glass down on the table and turned slightly to see the limn of his outline in her peripheral.
He grinned as he leaned his shoulder into hers as he spoke quietly, “Can’t help it.”
Harry tried to be as subtle as possible with everyone around but his skin was tingling in delight any time she shifted to pick up her glass her thigh ran against the stretch of his jeans. He regretted that he couldn’t stare into her beautiful eyes but he loved her nearness. The smell of her perfume and her shampoo.
“So, Harry,” Tony spoke up, “What do you do for fun?”
Harry was caught off guard. He’d been far too focused on the girl next to him that he nearly forgot he might need to participate in a conversation.
He laughed and looked at Saul and then to Tony, “I like music a lot. Um… reading. I don’t know,” he shrugged.
“He used to be in a band. Plays guitar and sings. He can play almost any instrument actually,“ Saul chimed in.
Harry rolled his eyes when everyone began to ask questions. He didn’t enjoy talking about himself because then that wound up leading to discussing his time in jail. Thankfully no one brought it up, though he was sure everyone already knew anyway. Saul wasn’t exactly discreet.
When the bill was paid after everyone threw down some cash, Y/n slid out of the booth with Harry right behind her, “Can I have your number?” He spoke so only she could hear as he brushed his fingers against hers.
She stopped and turned toward him, a mischievous grin on her face, “I’ll give you my number if you come to the party next weekend.”
Everyone began to walk to the door and Y/n turned to leave but Harry wasn’t done. He felt his heart walloping in his chest as he hastened his steps after her, pulling at her hand as stealthily as possible, “I can’t just crash a party I wasn’t invited to.”
When they stepped outside Y/n moved to the side to let everyone walk past and she looked up at Harry, “If you don’t come then you don’t get my number. It’s up to you.”
Harry swallowed as he looked down at the pretty girl in amazement, “Fine. I’ll be there.”
She smiled sweetly and raised her hand to poke at his dimple, “I know you will.”
NEXT PART (link goes to Patreon)
I hope you enjoyed part 1! This is the only part I'll be posting on Tumblr. If you want more check out my Patreon 💕
General tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @icumforbaldrry @harrrrystylesslut @straightontilmornin @elidoho @bananabk9756
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles x yn#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#firstpost#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fiction#harry styles x y/n#harry x reader#harry x yn#harry x y/n#harry#harry smut#harry edward styles#harrystyles#harry styles writing#patreon exclusive
302 notes
·
View notes