#so we brought this baby to you champion no one else knew what to do with it. your problem now (the garrett hawke story)

[vaguely-concerned]

toying with the idea of having merrill and hawke platonically co-parenting a child (perhaps children plural? to maximize the potential chaos you understand) together by the time of veilguard, and that is part of why varric triple underlined that 'NO you are NOT coming with me on this one do you think I'm into recreationally creating orphans hawke???? after all the years we've known each other is that what you think my hobby is???? stay here and keep the home fires burning or so help me I'll ask aveline to sit on you the whole time I swear it on my perfect disdain for the merchant's guild. ffs. (infinite affection so deep it lives like an ache in my soul you're my best friend in all the world and I need to know you'll be okay somewhere out there if I'm going to do this thing. I can close a lot of stories when their time has come but please not this one. let me keep this one)'

[cllightning81]

Red Bull? Really?

Summary : You're dating the three time world champion that's in a championship battle with your twin brother. However, you haven't told him about the relationship

Pairing/s: Max Verstappen x Norris!Reader

Word Count :

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You and Lando always had a good relationship. You didn’t have any twin telepathy, but that didn’t mean that neither of you couldn’t tell what was going on with the other. That was why Lando now knew that you were hiding something from him just by your body language. 

You were in a serious relationship with his on track rival where the rivalry was just heating up second by second. How could you come clean about that? It was bound to break your relationship with Lando and Lando’s relationship with Max. 

While all the commentators assumed the races would be what broke their relationship off track, it was about to be you. You had spoken to Max before the summer holidays and decided that before you left to go on holiday with him, you’d confess to Lando. 

Your original idea was just to text Lando from another room in his house while he was streaming so that his reaction couldn’t be too extreme but Max told you not to do that and that he was your brother. He wasn’t going to be too extreme. 

How wrong Max was about to be. Another debate you’d win. 

Lando had just finished streaming and was now coming downstairs to get some food that you’d cooked – in hopes to butter him up – you smiled over at him as you answered a text from Max F about a project you had coming up together. 

“So” Lando said, sitting down on the couch opposite you. You could feel your heart rate starting to rise knowing that you actually had to tell him now. Having previously told him, you needed to talk. 

“You can’t lash out” You started, and he raised his eyes. You really wish you had done it your way and just locked yourself in the bathroom so he couldn’t get near you. 

“That’s not a good start Y/N” You bit your lip, looking over at him briefly 

“So I’m dating someone” You whispered as Lando sat forward a little with a smirk crossing his face 

“Do I know them?” He asked, and you nodded slightly as he raised his eyebrows, getting a little more suspicious now. 

“Look, it was never my intention to hurt you. When we first started seeing each other, it was before anything ever happened. You’ll always be my brother before anything else. Please don’t do anything harsh” You rambled, stopping due to the knock on the door. You quickly took it as your chance to leave the conversation, hoping that Lando and yourself could forget about it. 

Except when you answered the door, your problem was, stood at the other side of the door. You let out a long breath, letting him into the house. 

“Max! I was just about to find out who Y/N is dating. You can join me” Lando hummed as you closed the door, taking a deep breath. You could see the smirk crossing Max’s face 

“Erm yeah Lan I think I’ll finish this conversation when we’re alone” You wandered off to your bedroom despite Lando’s complaints. 

You hadn’t brought up the conversation again to Lando and had quickly avoided any conversation he brought up. 

That was until you were, stood in your own house, Max was, sat on your couch scrolling  through the TV, trying to find something for you both to watch. 

“Kindje” (Baby) Max called as you poked your head through from the kitchen with a smile 

“Yeah?” You asked, walking over to him standing between his legs. 

“Movie or TV show?” He asked, looking up at you as his arms wrapped around your waist

“Let’s go TV show. Movies are long and boring” You answered, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, and he nodded, pressing a kiss back to your lips. Pulling you on top of his body so that you were straddling his lap. Your head resting in the crook of his neck breathing in his scent as one of his hands rubbed circles on your back 

“Still avoiding the conversation with Lando?” He asked, and you nodded 

“You and him keep getting your elbows out on track. I think that would make it worse” You sighed. It would make it worse. Lando and Max were violent on track enough as it was. You couldn’t imagine Lando’s violence if he found out about you and Max. 

“How about we abandon the TV show, go to bed, and just cuddle?” He suggested, and you nodded. 

“That sounds like a plan,” you hummed. Max stood up within one move, one of his hands hooked under you to carry you to the bedroom. Normally, you stayed at Max’s house however, Max decided to come over to your house tonight to surprise you. 

Max settled you on the bed before getting settled in next to you. Your body curling into his as he wrapped his arms around you. The silence was nice. Max’s hand under his shirt that you were now wearing drawing, comforting shapes on your back. 

You were both getting comfortable and about to fall asleep when there was a loud bang followed by someone shouting your name however, it didn’t compute who it was. 

“Y/N. Where are you?” Lando shouted, and that’s when it hit. Lando. You and Max both quickly jumped up as you glanced at Max, shutting the bedroom door as you walked to the living room to avoid Lando walking into the bedroom. 

“Lando it’s late” You complained, and he just shrugged. 

“And? I’ve got exciting news” He shrugged as your rolled your eyes. Lando’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at you from his spot on the couch. 

“What? Is that a red bull shirt?” He asked loudly as you glanced down at the top you were wearing. Shit. Fuck Max for not owning any other shirts. 

“I erm. I borrowed it from Checo and just never gave it back when I spilt coffee down myself that one time” You lied. It was a really obvious lie. The massive 33 on the top gave that away. Lando started to take a couple steps away from you, falling over the couch as he did. You couldn’t help but laugh a little after all he was your brother. Lando glared at you 

“Look Lando. I’ve been trying to tell you. I just didn’t know how. Please don’t be mad” You whispered 

“How long?” He asked quietly 

“About five months” You whispered, looking down as he continued walking towards the door, not saying anything loudly, just shaking his head and muttering to himself. “Lando please” you looked over, and he quickly opened the door and left slamming the door behind himself. 

You sat on the couch, dropping your head into your hands as a pair of hands wrapped around your body. The tears slowly falling down your face as Max’s hand rubbed your arm softly, pulling your body into his 

“It’s okay kindje” He whispered, holding you close despite you trying to push him away “Hey don’t fight me. I’m not going anywhere no matter how much you fight me” You were too distressed to understand what Max was saying. 

You’d hurt your brother. That’s the worst feeling that you’d ever felt in your life. What hurt more is the fact he didn’t even say a word to you. You never expected him to be happy about it, but you expected him to maybe say something to you. 

You didn’t want Max’s comfort. You felt like you didn’t deserve Max’s comfort, not after the harm you just caused your brother. You deserved to feel the harm as well. Siblings never mind twins were meant to harm each other. 

A couple weeks later, at the next Grand Prix, Lando still wasn’t talking to you. You’d phoned him a couple times a day, texted him multiple times a day, and even attempted to show up at his house. Max stepped in after a week also trying to speak to Lando. You’d even went through your family to try and speak to Lando, but he wasn’t having it. 

Now Max had convinced you to come to the Grand Prix just so that you wouldn’t be in the house moping as he had said. And well, in all honesty, his cats were little devils, and they could manage a week or two with a cat sitter.

Max’s hand rested on the small of your back as he spoke to the driver thanking them for driving you to the hotel. As you were about to walk in Max spotted a guy standing just off the side to all the team members and other people turning to you with a sly smile before his hand dropped and he walked over to the guy. Who clearly backed out of just asking Max to sign something, but you liked how even though he was prepared, he still respected the privacy. 

Max soon walked back over his hand, going back to resting on the small of your back as you smiled up at him 

“Ready kindje?” He asked, and you nodded with a smile 

“Think so” You hummed, walking into the hotel with him and up to the room he had been assigned. You were hoping that Lando was going to be here, but deep down, you knew that they had their own hotel sponsor and would probably be staying there, but one could wish. 

Max had also been invited to an event with sponsors, and after a lot of convincing, you decided to go with him. It was better than being stuck in a hotel room alone and there was free food which did work out as a bonus because those savings don’t last long when you refuse to let your boyfriend pay for your things wanting to be independent. 

Now, getting ready in the hotel room for the event, deciding on just a simple dress that matched Max’s suit. Your hair, in the simplest style you could do and make up just simple as well. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to put effort in and more that you just didn’t have any effort. 

Trying to get Lando to talk to you had taken up most of your energy and effort. There was nothing else for you to give, and you needed a break to reset that. Max walked up behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist with a smile 

“You look beautiful” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You turned around in his arms, wrapping your own arms around his neck 

“And you look very handsome” You smiled, looking up at him. 

“Are you almost ready to go? The car is downstairs waiting” He smiled, and you nodded 

“I just need some help putting this necklace on, then I’m all finished” You smiled, holding up the necklace that you were planning on wearing. Lando had bought you it when you both turned 21. It was a matching one with one of his bracelets. 

Max carefully took the necklace out of your hands, and you lifted your hair up. Gently resting the necklace upon your chest before tying the clasp at the back of your neck. You smiled at Max through the mirror, and he couldn’t help but smile back. 

You were still in pain, but you couldn’t deny that Max was making that pain go away day by day. 

A short drive later, you and Max were not at the large ballroom for the event. Filled with sponsors for all ten teams, drivers from all ten teams, along with team principles and other important members of the teams. 

You weren’t even looking for Lando knowing that he’d just ignore you. Instead, you found yourself talking to his teammate and his girlfriend. You and Lily had always gotten along from the second Oscar joined the team, having many things in common. 

“How was your summer break?” You asked Oscar, knowing his plan was to go back to England however you hadn’t seen him since 

“It was nice. Typical British weather, but you know. Couldn’t have asked for a better time” He smiled, turning to look at Lily, who could only smile at her boyfriend “How was yours?” He asked, and you took a deep breath 

“It could have been a lot better” You replied 

You had thought Max was away talking to Cristian and Checo until there was a large hand settling on the small of your back. When you turned your head, Max was smiling down at you 

“You couldn’t have saved me?” He asked, and you shook your head slightly 

“No, unfortunately, I couldn’t have. I thought you were with Checo and Horner” You shrugged, and he shook his head. 

“No. I got dragged into a conversation with the Pirelli guy and some other sponsor” He replied, and you giggled. Leaning back into his warm touch. Max finally looked up to see who you were talking with “Oh hey Oscar” He smiled, and Oscar only nodded his mouth slightly ajar. Lily had a sly smirk on her face that only you picked up on. 

“Are we still on for padel?” Oscar finally asked, allowing the boys to get into their own conversation so Lily could drag you away to the bar. 

“Oh my god! What’s that?” She exclaimed, and you bit your lip 

“The reason Lando’s being such an ass to me” You replied before ordering a drink for both you and Max

“Ah so that’s what his mood is all about” Lily nodded, understandingly as you nodded turning to look at her. She still had that smirk on her face “So” She dragged out as you raised your eyebrows at her 

“So what?” You asked

“So what’s he actually like behind closed doors?” She asked as you leaned your back against the bar with a small smile 

“Lils he’s perfect. Like honestly so perfect” You sighed, looking over to him. It didn’t help that he currently looked very good. Although he always did, that suit was just doing something for him. 

“Wanna share more?” She asked, and you hummed tapping your nose 

“Nope that’s all the information I shall share” You smiled, picking up your drinks before walking back over to Max and Oscar. You spotted Lando talking with a sponsor as you handed Max his gin and tonic. His arm wrapped around you as you leaned into him with a slight smile. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you 

“Better than your cats” You shrugged, and he faked offence, holding his chest as you giggled 

“They’re menices!” You exclaimed, and he shrugged a little 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true” He smiled, leading you back to the table you were due to be sat at. Pulling out your chair allows you to sit down before sitting down. You turned your head to look at Max as you placed your drink on the table 

“Is he still ignoring you?” He asked, and you nodded slightly, looking over to where Lando was now sitting “Shit. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that” He sighed, resting his hand over yours as you shrugged a little 

“It’s fine. I just wish he’d get over it even just to say hello. He’s still my brother” You sighed, looking up to thank the waitress as she brought over the food for the table you were sitting at. 

Back at the hotel room the alcohol in your system had made you forget about the whole situation with Lando and Max had taken your phone so that you wouldn’t answer any of Lando’s texts now that the alcohol had made him realise what was going on. 

Max had helped you get ready for bed before getting in next to you. Your head rested on his chest as he wrapped one arm around you, the other resting on your waist as he drew shapes on it. 

“It doesn’t matter what Lando thinks as long as you're happy. Please never forget that Schat (darling)” He explained. You nodded along with his words 

“I’d be happier if Lando had anything nice to say” You looked up at him from his chest as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your own

“He’s been texting you but I think you should look at them when you’re a little more sober as much as I know you’d sleep better reading them but I’d rather you have a clear mind reading them” He explained as you looked up at him pulling away from his lips 

“Have you read them?” You asked, and he nodded 

“I did. I figured reading them before you would help me comfort you if needed” He explained 

“You don’t need to explain love. I just wanted to know” You replied, pressing your lips against his. Moving so that you were laying between his legs, your head still on his chest as both his arms wrapped around you, sliding under your shirt, allowing him to draw shapes on your bare back. 

No matter what, Lando ended up saying you were more than happy being wrapped in Max’s arms. Maybe it’s time for Lando to feel what you had felt. 

Tag List

@thewannabewriter @lozzamez3 @barcelonaloverf1life @hiireadstuff @mxdi0 @f1kenzzz @evie-119 @ahgase99 @velcosainz @kat-s2 @scarletwidow3000 @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tellybearryyyy @xabwlky1999 @xxx-betty @callsignwidow @chocolatepoetryfun @lwstuff @destinyg237 @glitzyditsy @sltwins @myloverjk @lilymurphy03 @chuckpiboli @rqlsefanny @alex-wotton @tpwkstlies @maymustdie @formula1-motogpfan

[thr0whands]

his bare chest exposed, her hands all over him, his own hands all over her body, the kissing getting heavier as the minute went by. he never felt this way for anyone before. didn't feel this passion, this excitement all at once with anyone else. liv morgan made him feel things that gave him butterflies, made his heart beat so quickly that he was sure she could hear it. cody's lips went everywhere on the blonde from her lips to her neck, he wanted her to feel the same fiery passion that he had been feeling. his insides had been churning in nervousness, desire, and excitement. all in one. there were no other words as to how he could even explain this. this was nothing like cody rhodes had ever experienced in his whole entire life before. it was starting to become so intense, the passion of it all getting to him, his hands and his lips were all over her. there had been no more thoughts, just a burning need.

❝ liv.....❞ , he moaned against her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her throat. their bodies were now rubbing each other like nothing else mattered or existed in the whole entire world. they were driving each other crazy with their restless hands and wondering mouths. when he gently lowered her on his mattress, their lips still not parting from the other, foreheads touching, letting these beautiful moments just sink in. he didn't want to let go of her, not now, not ever. he just needed to be with her in every single way possible that he could be. whether that be just kissing her lips all night long to her staying over and spending the night with him.

towering over her now, biting his lip as the way she began teasing him to touching him in certain places to using her words just like he knew she could. he kissed her neck slowly making his way down to her stomach, lifting up her shirt just a bit to leave little pecks. his lips on her stomch but looking at her at the same time just to see her reaction, just to see if he could get her going before she tried to remove his belt. that's exactly what he wanted her to do. ❝ are we searching for something, princess? ❞ this was a game of cat and mouse. it was about to become who could last the longest and although cody didn't want to let her win, he couldn't control himself any longer, couldn't wait, didn't want to wait.

she was perfect to him. it didn't matter if she wasn't women's world champion anymore, because to him, she was his champion. she always would be. he just hoped the same thing could be said if he lost his own next weekend. the only thing that mattered to cody now was liv morgan and them being together. he had so many feeling for her, feelings for her that he just wanted to yell out to her and to anyone that would listen to him. but now was not the time. now was the time to make his girl feel good. to savor every moment of being together.

and she didn't need to wait any longer. as tempting as it was to hear her beg for him, he couldn't wait any longer either. ❝ i want you to be mine, liv. i'm already yours, baby. ❞ his lips went back down onto her own lips, breaking apart from one second until he brought her into him, gently raising her so that she was once again sitting on his lap, exposing her shoulders with little sweet kisses until he made his way under her shirt, and he heard her gasp as his hands touched her back, her stomach and everywhere else.

the gasp that passes through swollen lips as he nips at her ear is unable to be controlled, not that she had tried to control it in the slightest. liv wants him to hear what he does to her, let him memorize every little noise he can get out of her. every sound filling the space thats just for him.

his words go straight to her core. the pet names, the confirmation of just how much he needs her as she is practically ripping his shirt off of him. desperate to get her hands on cody's chest. there isn't even a moment for her to take him in before he has closed the space once more, causing a small laugh to make its way through the kiss as his hands travel lower. picking her up as if she weighs nothing, like it was something he was meant to do every day for the rest of his life... but she couldn't help but let her thoughts wander to how she knows those hands feel all over her bare skin.

when he lowers her on to the mattress it is careful and gentle, as if she was glass that would shatter that slightest wrong movement. liv doesn't let go of him, though. forcing him to bend down over her, keeping him close. legs locked around his waist and hands holding his face to hers. calloused thumbs lightly circling the skin on his cheek bones. when she finally does pull back enough to catch her breath to help stop her lungs from screaming, she puts her forehead against his. unwilling to not have every part of him. feeling as if she let go for even just a moment he would be gone and this would have all just been a sick joke from her imagination.

❝ don't be gentle. ❞ words are breathless, chest rising dramatically with each inhale. ❝ you can't break me. show me just how much you missed me. how much you want me. ❞ said as she adjusts herself under him, loosing the hold of him on her thighs just enough for her to move just a bit lower under him. perfectly manicured nails lightly scratching at the perfect skin, leaving little red marks in their absence, just for her hands to find their destination just above his belt but not reaching for it just yet. wanting him to tease him just a bit longer, to not give up her control just yet.

blue eyes look up to meet his own once more, and the way her heart flutters for just a moment at the look in his eyes. the overwhelming need that is clear, but the underlying care she can still make out. like she is the only person who matters. she may not hold the champion title anymore but she would give it up a million times over to have cody look at her like that always.

hands moves slowly to his sides, not breaking the eye contact. just taking in this perfect moment for just a moment longer. ❝ please don't make me beg... i can't wait any longer. ❞ said before lips take their place once more against his, not caring to hear him reply. just fully consumed by him and the way her body craves him. ❝ fuck me so that i am ruined for anyone else. claim me. ❞

[lostinlewis]

Out of Time ~ Part One

Rating: M

Words: 11,000

Character: Lewis Hamilton

Description: Two years of coparenting with a man that spends so much time away, two years of having to watch him live a life he swore would be worthless without you by his side, two years of navigating your feelings, your hopes, your dreams & all that made getting over Lewis entirely impossible. Your daughter was what brought you together in the first place, can she do it a second time?

•

“Lewis Hamilton, seven time champion of the world!”

That one line had become the backing track to your attempt at a lie in that morning. You were quite impressed with your ability to withstand it for nearly an hour before you had enough, it was far longer than usual.

The usual morning routine was playing out as it always did, sometime in the wee hours your daughter had found her way to your bed, her blanket in one hand and her iPad in the other, where she would prop herself up against your headboard to watch the one video she loved more than all the others.

It didn’t matter an inch that she had watched the same video almost constantly for over a year now, the look of pride on her beautiful face as she stared at the screen in awe, her tired eyes shone with adoration of the man it pictured; it was how she coped with missing him when he was away for work.

Every now and then she would whisper the word ‘Daddy’, it didn’t matter that he was covered in a helmet, his face hardly visible, he was her daddy, only hers, and she would love him just the same through a screen on the other side of the world, as she would in person; The true definition of love was that of a daughter and her daddy.

“Sweetie, how about we put something else on now?”

“No, I wanna watch Daddy!”

You smiled to yourself as she so sweetly argued her point, how could you ever possibly deny her what she loved the most? She was his double, a mini version of her dad, so much so you might as well have not been involved at all. As head strong as him certainly, but to look at it was as if you were looking at a little version of him and somehow, despite everything that had happened between you both, that filled you with so much joy.

The dark curls hung at her shoulders, much like his own did when he allowed them loose. Her smile was the kind that lit up her whole face, like his always did, her nose crinkled just like his did too, but her eyes, it was her eyes that were the most telling of her father; beautiful pearls of the deepest brown, the kind that were equally the kindest and the most intense you had ever seen.

You held a secret that you had never shared with another soul, and probably never would, but you were eternally grateful that she resembled him so much, it was both a comfort and upsetting in equal measures of course, but now that his eyes were no longer what you looked into every day, the eyes that showered you with looks of love at some of your lowest points, you had hers to now do just the same, even if she wasn’t at all aware of it.

“I have an idea, why don’t you call Daddy instead? I’m sure he will be so happy to see you!”

The little girl squealed in excitement as she expertly found the FaceTime app on her iPad, she always waited for permission to call him as she knew her dad wasn’t always available, she looked to you to tell her when he would be by his phone.

The ring sounded out for a little longer than usual, and instantly you were filled with regret. It was rare that you suggested calling him without first checking he was available to talk, something you had agreed on when your daughter was just a baby, he never wanted her to feel like he had let her down and you never wanted her to feel like she wasn’t his number one priority.

The call was only a few more rings away from going unanswered, the tears pooling in her eyes already told you she had realised this too. The guilt tugged at your heart strings in an instant, until you were quite literally saved by the bell, your doorbell.

“Mummy will be back in just a second, sweetie. Try Daddy again, sometimes it takes a little longer to reach the other side of the world…”

As you left the bed to answer the door, you grabbed your phone off the side, your thumbs working in overdrive as you walked down the hallway and desperately messaged him a plea for help for an issue you had so recklessly created.

‘I know you’re probably busy but I messed up, please call Bambi as soon as possible.’

Bambi was the nickname Lewis had given your daughter as she laid on his chest only a few days old, staring up at her dad in awe much like she does now, and him down at her with love practically pouring out of him.

“Big Brown eyes, just like a deer…just like Bambi…my little Bambi…Bambi…I like it, such a cute name. Maybe we should change her name to it?”

“We are not changing her name to Bambi, Lewis.”

“But it’s so cute!”

It was in that very moment that you first knew that there was no man more ready, and better built, to be a father more than he was. This memory is one of your fondest to look back on, even three years later, amongst all of the animosity that had built between you both over the years, he was your daughter’s father and Bambi was what united you in a bond that was impossible to break now.

“Hey you.”

Lewis was standing on your doorstep, dressed in what he always referred to as his home clothes, usually some variation of the grey tracksuit he wore today, the brightest smile on his face with a cuddly toy under his right arm; a deer, of course.

“Lewis…what are you doing here?”

There was no time for him to answer, interrupted almost immediately by the excited squeals of the little girl ringing through the hallway as she bounded towards you, swiping you to the side so she could get past you faster, to quite literally jump into Lewis’ arms.

It was only last week that they had spent a few days together, yet the way they clung to each other, eyes closed and slowly rocking, you would be mistaken for thinking it had been years.

Finally Lewis worked them apart, resting her on his forearm as he brushed his nose across hers, their thing. He was quite the picture as he walked into your home, baby deer under one arm, baby Lewis perched on the other, twirling her dad’s braid in between her fingers with a permanent smile on her face.

“Daddy, come play with me!”

Two years after the separation had brought you to the present day, two years of coparenting with the man you thought you would be spending the rest of your life with, yet you still hadn’t found a space to feel comfortable in with him. As they walked off towards your daughters room, hand in hand and unable to take their eyes off of each other, you sought comfort in preparing food for you all, comfort in being alone yet still being able to hear their excitement of being able to spend time together.

It had been two years of telling yourself that the next time you would spend time together as a family it would be easier, that you wouldn’t be immediately filled with regret of losing him, of breaking apart Bambi’s family, and that you definitely would not still long for him to want to come home to you also. It hadn’t happened yet, but you were optimistic.

“Hey.”

Lewis startled you, even with the softest tones of his voice, he sat down at the other side of the counter you were preparing food on. You lost your train of thought for a moment as you looked at him, he looked so soft, so cosy, every bit the man you had loved so dearly once upon a time. You quite literally had to shake your head to rid yourself of thoughts that only served a purpose of causing you pain.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for a race, Lewis?”

Your words sounded far harsher than you had meant them, what was once a normal conversation between two people now found itself awkward, and with tension, pretty much whenever you spoke to him, despite almost never meaning for that to be the case.

“I should be, but I missed Bambi too much…”

There were many words hanging in the space after Lewis stopped his, unsaid words had become quite the common theme between you both. A part of you thought he might have left his admission of also missing you off the end of his sentence, but you were often delusional when it came to Lewis, you knew better than to trust your instinct here. Instinct could very often be clouded by the smoke of a love that had never quite burned out, instead it was one that simmered inside of you, waiting for its moment to completely engulf you in flames that you knew would destroy you.

“I was thinking…why don’t you both join me this weekend?”

“No, Lewis. She’s still too young to go to a race.”

“No she’s not, there’s kids younger there all the time. I want her there, I want her to see what her dad does when he’s not around, I want to spend Fathers Day with her…please.”

Your daughter always chose the most perfect moment to announce her arrival in a room, and this time was no different. Still with an untold amount of energy, she ran straight over to Lewis, climbing his leg until he helped her up to his knee.

“Miss you, Daddy.”

“But I’m here, Bambi.”

He could not help but stroke her cheek with his thumb as he looked at his daughter's face, the love that radiated off of him was quite the sight to behold.

“I know but I miss you.”

Although they shouldn’t have, your daughter's words made perfect sense, you remembered the feeling well, it was entirely possible to miss Lewis whilst he was still with you, the emotion was a consequence of loving a man who often had to leave.

This time they didn’t slink off to another room to play, the both of them sat together watching you finish preparing their meal as they chattered amongst themselves, occasionally breaking out into fits of giggles when Lewis tickled her sides.

“Okay, we will join you.”

They both froze, staring at you as you served them each a plate; one a mini version of the other, much like the two people you were feeding.

“You will?”

If you were not mistaken, Lewis’ eyes were glistening with a little more moisture than usual as he looked at you.

“Yes, like you said, it will be good for Bambi to see what her Daddy does everyday. Hopefully it will stop her from watching the same video on repeat everyday too.”

“Still? Daddy’s going to have to win another one, just to give you something else to watch, baby girl.”

Lewis kissed the forehead of the girl who was now stuffing her face with food, a tranquillity about her that she hadn’t had for a while now, not since the last time he was here anyway.

“Thank you for doing this.”

You didn’t respond with words, a smile was kinder. Whilst you knew it would make both of them happier than anything else, you also knew it would be the hardest weekend of your life. That didn’t matter though, not when you watched them together, the very best of friends, twins from their heads to their toes; even the way they ate was the same.

Anxiety plagued you from the moment you agreed to fly across the world to join Lewis at a race, and even when you walked out of the terminal, holding your little girl's hands, it ate away at you like the universe was determined to make you regret ever stepping foot on the plane.

Where is he? He promised to be here early to pick us up. I swear if he has sent a driver instead I will never forgive him.

Your eyes darted around the busy Montreal airport, Lewis was so distinctive you could spot him in any crowd in the world, but the familiar feeling of waiting for him had returned and you remembered exactly why your relationship was so fraught by the ending.

“There’s my girl…”

It had been such a long time since his voice had been an instant serotonin boost, but as he approached you both from behind, scooping your daughter up into his arms, you felt relief wash over you.

He hadn’t let you down and most importantly, he hadn’t let Bambi down either.

“Daddy I watched you on the plane and now you’re here!”

Despite the fact she was so tired she couldn’t stop rubbing her eyes, Bambi spoke about Lewis, to Lewis, with excitement soaring through her body.

“You did baby girl? The same video?”

“Actually no, I decided to introduce her to Interlagos last year…That was really something, huh?”

The smile that crossed his face beamed with pride, self pride was never his strong point, he was always humble through and through but there were moments where even he couldn’t deny his greatness, and in those moments you saw the little kid within him, the excited little bundle of joy, the one you now saw daily in your daughter.

“It was…it’s a shame you-“

Lewis stopped himself before he finished his sentence but he didn’t need to, the intention behind it was clear. Your gaze lingered a little longer before you thought best not to fight back against it, despite your relationship being long in the past, you still didn’t enjoy blowing out the spark within him when he allowed you to see it.

“Daddy, where is Canada?”

Bambi broke the tension that your unspoken words had quickly built and with that, Lewis led you both to his car as he explained in three year old terms where exactly in the world you all were.

The car ride back to the hotel was mostly silent, both of you conscious of waking the sleeping little girl in the back seat, instead you allowed the almost whispered lyrics of the song that played on the radio to distract you during the ride.

‘You’re my baby even when you leave me/Maybe I’m the one to blame/Maybe I’m the cause of the pain…’

There the universe went again, making irony its main priority in your life, as the lyrics related directly to the situation you found yourself in with the father of your child.

For a moment as you took the elevator up to the room, panic set in. You hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, you had not spoken about sharing a room and for a moment, you worried Lewis had arranged it just like that but thankfully, he had booked you both separate rooms, next to each other but separated by a wall so there were no late night weakened states finding each other once more; the last thing you needed in your bid to move on from him, was to find yourself back under him once more.

For the first time in as long as you could remember, you were able to sleep past 8am as your daughter hadn’t yet adjusted to the new timezone. You had barely opened your eyes and checked on the softly snoring little girl next to you when you heard the gentle tapping on your hotel room door.

“Sshh Bambi’s still asleep.”

Lewis walked past you, smelling sweetly of the run he had just come back from, his t-shirt and shorts an illuminating orange with patches of wet.

“Sorry I know it’s early, I’m just excited to have her here, to have you both here…”

You watched him hover in the middle of the room, contemplating his next move and you froze out of a mixture of fear that he would overstep the mark and hug you, and the overbearing hope that he would.

“I’m nervous, Lewis.”

You sat down on the end of your bed, careful to make yourself as light as possible to not wake up sleeping beauty, Lewis soon mirrored your actions too.

“Why? You’ve been to a paddock so many times, nothing has changed.”

The distance between both of your bodies was minimal, so close he was to you, you could feel the warmth radiate off of him as if it was tempting you in closer, a part of you wanted to be engulfed in it but you knew better than to cross that line now, there was far too much at stake.

“Everything has changed. I used to go there as your girlfriend, now I’m just there as any other person-“

His face screwed up in almost disgust at the words you were saying.

“You think you’re the same as everyone else there? You think that you’re even the same as when you were there as my girlfriend? You’re right, everything has changed, now you are so much more important, and when they see you, everyone will know.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the mother of my child, you’re not just a girlfriend, you are there as a member of my family, the most important member of our little family.”

You didn’t have the words to respond to him, so instead you shared the softest of smiles that you let linger long enough for his reassurance.

“It’s not just that though, I hate everything I brought with me to wear.”

“I thought you might, you always did. I take it you haven’t looked in the closet yet then?”

“No, why? What is in there?”

“Just a little something I saw on a runway recently, I had it made and shipped over here especially for you…just in case.”

You moved so lightly on your feet as you made your way to find this dress. You held it out on its hanger, stunned to complete silence. It was beautiful, the softest colour to match your skin, the most beautiful material, it was perfect, but it wasn’t appropriate.

“It’s beautiful, Lewis…”

“I know.”

“But I can’t wear it. It’s too much, everyone will talk about us…I can’t wear it.”

There was so much to unpack behind your refusal to wear a dress he had had made specially for you, yet having a child gave him no chance to do that.

“Daddy!!”

Bambi jumped up from where she lay, wrapping her arms around him as if she hadn’t just seen him the night before.

“Good morning sleepy head, let’s get you ready…you’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

You didn’t move, instead you sat perfectly still as you watched him flip her around so he could carry her to the bathroom. You exchanged a smile before they disappeared into the room and it was then that you pondered how much fatherhood had changed him.

Lewis used to spend hours getting ready for any day of a race weekend, even one as insignificant as a Friday. His look was ever so important to him, and most of the time you could see why. Yet now that he had his daughter there, he spent that time with her instead, his own appearance a mere afterthought, something he would deal with later, once the very most important matter of his daughter feeling like a princess had been.

They were standing side by side at the mirror when there was a knock at the door, neither one of them looked away from fixing their braids. Lewis wore a pair of green pants with a white vest on top, and it was then that you knew that man was sent to earth purely to test your discipline.

You could withstand his company in most outfits, it wasn’t like you didn’t already know what was underneath, but there was something about a white vest that made it near on impossible to taper the yearn for him, the raw physical yearn that only being able to touch his body once more, would be able to cure.

You had managed to simmer the nervousness within you as you sat next to Lewis, who had insisted on driving you both to the track with him. It was as you pulled into your parking spot, and the engine went silent, suddenly the rush of emotions was almost overwhelming.

Accompanying him to track was always one of your most favourite things to do, it felt special, it allowed you to feel welcome in his world and be shown off as his woman in an environment where any one of the many people around would kill to be in your shoes.

Not today though, today would be completely different to what it had been before, today you would be with him as a guest and you knew it would be impossible to not allow the seeds of jealousy to blossom as you looked around the paddock, wondering who had taken your place in his life, even if only just for the night.

“Lewis, I don’t think I can do this…”

The words blurted out before you even had a chance to think of what you were saying, or the effect it would have on the man beside you who was brimming with excitement.

“Of course you can silly, you’ve done this before you know. Just take Bambi’s hand and walk with me the five minutes to the garage, you were always a natural at it.”

He was very aware you hadn’t dared look over to him once during his speech of reassurance, knowing better for it but doing so anyway, it made him reach out and grab your hand; his touch the lightest you had ever felt it, you wondered if he held all of his friends this way.

“You really don’t want to do it?”

You looked across to him and timidly shook your head, not because you were scared, more so you were afraid of upsetting him.

“Then you can walk with the rest of the team, I will walk through the paddock with Bambi so they are far too distracted to notice you.”

“Thank you, Lewis.”

Lewis was correct, as you walked along a few minutes behind where he and Bambi strolled hand in hand through the paddock, no one noticed you as they tripped over themselves to get the first picture of Lewis and his daughter arriving together.

You assumed you may feel better once you were settled in the Mercedes garage with your daughter sat by your side, staring at her dad talk to his engineers, kitted out in his race suit, the one you had stripped him of in the very same garage many times before, yet your anxieties twinged in the pit of your stomach.

Lewis always had a routine before he got in the car, even when it was only free practice, he would make sure to kiss you on each cheek, before placing a lingering one on your lips. He always said that if it was his last few moments, he wanted to spend them showing the people he loved just that.

As he approached where you both were sitting, you froze, was he really going to do that today? Surely not, surely he wouldn’t be bold enough to chance a kiss with the woman he had separated from so many years ago, in public.

Bambi was first to receive the kisses, one on each cheek before they did their nuzzling of noses. He didn’t skip a beat moving towards you, his soft beard brushed against your cheek as he placed one kiss on the left, moving quickly to the right before he paused his actions, staring at you as if asking for permission to do the one thing he hadn’t done for years; kiss you.

“Good luck out there, Lewis.”

Your uncertainty was evident in the way that your voice broke as you spoke, denying him access to complete his ritual in the kindest way possible.

A moment, a tension filled moment, as your eyes held the longest of gazes, his eyes being all you could see due to the helmet made it all the heavier with words, and actions, neither one of you dared to commit to.

Would you have let him kiss you on the lips like old times? Did he want to? A million and one questions raced through your mind, and as you watched him pull down his visor and enter the car, you held your breath and said a little prayer for his safety, as you always did.

Lewis didn’t have to say it, you could see it in the way the sparkle had left his eyes, in the way his smile never quite reached the crinkles that decorated them, he was hurt, he was frustrated, he was angry and you felt every bit of his emotions as if they were your own.

Bambi was quiet, she was excited after free practice one, convinced her daddy was winning as that was all she ever known and to her, Lewis was always in the lead. But after free practice two she sensed something was wrong, maybe it was the faces of the garage as they looked distraught, the anger radiating off of the team principal on a desk just to the right of you both, or maybe she was just so intune with her daddy’s emotions that she felt what you also felt, she felt Lewis’ sadness at the injustice of the car he had been dealt with and she was just as torn as you were with ways to fix him, even if only temporarily.

“Lewis…”

He had said his goodbyes to you both at your hotel room door, kissing you both on the cheek before turning away, as if the emotions of the day had bled into the night and now the goodbyes were more than he could bear.

As he turned back to look at you, you could see them, you could see the tears that pooled in his eyes, something you had only seen twice before, once as he held your daughter for the first time and once when you both agreed to separate.

“You can come in if you like?”

The first spark of happiness lit up inside of him and all at once his face shifted into one less filled with pain, the smallest of gestures meant so much to him when it came to you both, you felt responsible for his happiness tonight, it was the least you could do.

Few words were exchanged between you both, they didn’t need to be, all three of you propped yourselves up against the headboard as you let Disney movie after Disney movie play out until you decided to shower.

It was noticeable before you had even left the bathroom, the only sounds you could hear coming from your bedroom were the sounds of the movie playing out on the television. No longer the chattering, nor the fits of giggles that you had heard as you went in, silence from the voices that had soothed you most.

You made sure you were silent as you came out, already knowing what had happened, yet the scene that you were met with still flooded you with emotions much the same had it been a total surprise.

Curled up with their faces almost touching, as if they had fallen asleep mid nose rub, Lewis and your daughter were deep in what appeared to be the most contented sleep, each with an arm over the other as if they were scared the other wouldn’t be there when they woke.

There was an array of emotions running through you, guilt at the fact that your daughter was so very aware her dad couldn’t always be with her, softness at the tender scene, but the most prominent of all was the love, the pure, unadulterated love that you felt engulf you as you watched them.

It was a feeling that was impossible to describe, so much had happened between you and Lewis, so much joy, so much pain, so much unmatched heartbreak when it ended, yet never once had the feelings of love left your heart. It was as if the moment you fell for him, it stuck, glued to your soul for eternity, no matter what happened in between.

It was different now though, the love was no longer free, it now came with a hefty price tag of countless thoughts of what could have been, of what should have been if you had both been honest enough to let it, and when those thoughts hit, which they often did when you spent time with him, you knew it would take you so much longer to recover; the sadness grew stronger each time.

You could have chosen to take Bambi’s bed in the other room, you could have chosen to escape from the moment, but there wasn’t a single part of you that wanted to. You wanted to be with them, you wanted to be with your little family, as dysfunctional as it now was, it was still your little family and there was no way either you or Lewis could taint it whilst you slept.

Climbing into the bed, one that was perfectly big enough to fit the three of you, you tried to be as gentle as possible to not disturb them. You thought it had worked, as you nuzzled your head into the pillow to get comfortable and began to close your eyes, you thought you had managed to enter the scene without waking either of them, that was until you felt Lewis reach out to find your hand with his own.

It was the vibration of Lewis’ phone on the bedside cabinet that stirred you all out of your slumber, not one of you had woken before the other, all three of you had slept better than you had for a very long time and you knew that was no coincidence.

You felt him awaken, yet he hadn’t let go of your hand, not until he caught your eyes as they first opened and smiled at you. It was a smile of happiness sure, but more of relief at the olive branch you had given him by not immediately pulling your hand away; a semblance of hope after a day so short of it.

“Shit…sorry I mean shoot, I’m late.”

“Go, it’s fine. We will meet you at the track today, don’t stress, you’ve got this.”

As he threw on the t-shirt he had discarded sometime during the night he smiled at you once more.

“Thank you.”

You knew the thank you could be mistaken for a response to your words, but you knew deep down that the thank you was for last night, for the comfort you allowed him in a low point, a thank you for despite everything, still being the one he could turn to when he needed it most.

“I was hoping you would be wearing the dress today.”

Lewis was in such a better mood this morning, he whispered those words into your cheek as he greeted you both, and you couldn’t bear to respond.

You loved the dress, of course you did, how could you not? But the thought of wearing it, the thought of wearing it with the full knowledge that Lewis had it shipped over for you to wear with him at the paddock, for you to be pictured next to him in, still left you with the most uncomfortable of feelings.

Last night was a blip, a little slip up as you both navigated the co parenting waters whilst still nursing a phenomenal heartbreak, but what you couldn’t do was allow it to repeat itself, as much as you would have given anything for it to.

“Are you going to win today, Daddy?”

Bambi sat on his hip as he was dressed ready to get in the car, her fingers distracted by the way in which she could get his visor to flip up and down in a constant loop, truly testing his patience.

“Todays not the race, baby girl…”

Her face contorted in confusion, and finally her immaturity shone through, she wasn’t aware of her dad doing anything but racing so how could today not be a race?

Lewis read it too, and he knew that she was far too young to comprehend what everything meant in his world. How do you explain Qualifying to an almost baby? It was a race of sorts anyway.

“I will win, just for you Bambi, I will win. You better be ready to cheer me on with mummy.”

There it was, the twinge in your stomach for which you hadn’t yet found the right words to label it with. It happened every time he referred to you as his daughter's mummy. Of course you were, you had had three years to adjust to that fact, but there was something about hearing him refer to you in such a way that fluttered your stomach. You likened it to when he used to stake his claim on you, call you his girl; this was the co parenting equivalent and in a way, it was more certified than marriage.

The track was wet, it was exactly the kind of environment you knew Lewis enjoyed the most, yet wet races were always the ones you dreaded. You had known when you met Lewis that his job was dangerous, and when you agreed to be in a relationship with him it was something you had to bear, but even when you watched the races from home, and you always did, you couldn’t help but support him even in secret, your stomach churned with anxiety the whole time, especially the wet ones.

Bambi was glued to the television screen, the one playing the sky broadcast, you would have given anything to have her level of ignorance, to share in the now naive belief that her dad will always win, you were almost certain that as she saw the reds of the Ferrari cars, she saw the papayas, she looked past them, as if they were side characters in her dad's life, and up until this year, they were.

“Come on Lewis, you can do this.”

You whispered words of encouragement as you watched his onboard, knowing it was the final lap for him, and knowing how much a positive qualifying session would mean to him after yesterday.

“Come on Lewis! P4! Great pace! Puts us in a very good position for tomorrow mate.”

Lewis’ engineer shouted down the radio at him, and you were certain that even through the helmet, you could see his smile.

“Daddy you are so fast!”

His smile was already beaming, yet the words of praise from his daughter made it glow. He scooped her up in his arms, nuzzling their noses together in their kiss as he tapped the brim of her Purple Mercedes hat, the one that he had specially made for her size, the one she wore with pride as it had a 44 on the side.

“Well done, you did so well!”

As if all of your next movements were strictly from muscle memory, you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek too, and for a moment you didn’t move, neither did he.

With the only arm he had free, your daughter occupying the other one, he held you against him until reality set in and you pulled away, deflating his happiness with distance between your bodies.

“I guess having my lucky charms with me really works.”

You sat in the Mercedes hospitality suite waiting for Lewis to finish for the evening, Bambi so overcome with excitement she was napping on your lap, you watched Lewis’ post race interviews and lapped up the smile that he just couldn’t shake, the smile you hadn’t seen for what felt like an eternity.

“So Lewis, we saw you have your daughter here at the track this weekend.”

“I do, having her here has been incredible, she loves racing, probably even more than me. Honestly, I just have to thank her mum for bringing her because clearly she was the luck that has been missing so far this year.”

“It’s adorable to watch you with her. Speaking of her mum, we saw you both looking cosy post Quali, are you off the market now?”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

Everyone had seen that little moment you shared, the world had seen you fall in to him as if it was something you did regularly, and now the world would speculate on your relationship for months to come. This was the last thing you needed, this was the last thing either of you needed, how could you move on from a relationship that no one could stop talking about?

Lewis didn’t answer the journalist, he seemed to be as stunned by the question as you were, instead he let it hang in the air as he processed a response before he walked away without giving one; the worst thing he could have done.

The smile had gone when he picked you both up, carrying Bambi in his arms as she slept against his chest as you walked to his car, it was silent. You knew why you were silent, you just didn’t know why he was.

“Lewis about what happened, about what they asked you-“

“You saw that? I’m sorry, I should have answered with something, I just…”

You waited for his sentence to finish, you held your breath with thoughts much like a plea for him to not say the words you could feel radiate off of him, you did not want to hear that he didn’t want to deny it, as much as you already knew that was what he was not saying.

“It’s fine. I’m just sorry that all your…women…might see it.”

Your words were intended as a joke, a little light hearted banter but by the look on Lewis’ face he was taking it as anything but. You wanted so desperately for the both of you to be in a place where you could joke with him about his dalliances, and from what you saw online, there were many of them, yet even now, even two years after you had separated, neither one of you was quite there yet.

The rest of the car journey was silent, the walk up to your room was too. Bambi hadn’t stirred from her sleep, and so Lewis carried her cradled in his arms until he could lay her down in her bed, still wearing her Mercedes merch, head to toe.

“What I said…about the women…it was a joke, you know?”

You greeted him with your anxious thoughts the moment he reappeared from settling your daughter. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife as neither one of you knew where to stand, nor where to sit, in the space only yesterday you had both fallen asleep holding hands in.

“I know…it’s just, well…I hate that you know about them.”

“I mean, it would be hard for me to not, you’re everywhere.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

Lewis sat down on the end of your bed as if the thoughts that plagued him made him more tired than any amount of racing ever could. You didn’t follow his lead, instead you hovered in the space you greeted him in, your hands playing with each other to really express how uncomfortable you felt.

“That you’re everywhere? I’m used to it. I mean, it would be nice to not see your face everytime I open Instagram but then again, I see your face everytime Bambi is in the room anyway so I guess that’s my own doing.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. How does it make you feel seeing me with those women?”

“Lewis, let’s not do this now…it’s been a good day, let’s not ruin it.”

“Sit, please. We should talk about last night.”

You sat beside him on the bed, conscious of leaving enough space that you could make a run for it the second you needed to.

“There’s nothing to talk about last night, it was a moment of weakness, that’s all.”

“So it wasn’t the best night's sleep you’ve had for a long time? It certainly was for me. I know you feel something, you didn’t pull away from me because you feel something. What happened at the track today, that moment, I know you felt it too.”

“Lewis, please…”

His hand reached out to yours, despite you holding them in a tight grip at your thighs, he wanted to feel your skin against his, he wanted to comfort your anxious thoughts with the reminder of how warm he was.

“Why are you still, after all this time, so determined to fight what we both feel?”

“Because I have to, Lewis. This isn’t about us anymore, we can’t selfishly flit in and out of our relationship, Bambi’s older now, she understands so much and all she has ever really known is us apart. I won’t give her the false hope of our family, to then rip it from her the moment this doesn’t work again a few months down the line.”

“Look at this…”

Lewis held out his left arm, displaying the portrait that he had tattooed on what was once his bare skin. A woman who resembled you, cradling a baby in his arms, underneath read the words ‘Where there is family, there is love.’

“I had this tattooed after we split for a reason, and you know that. She is you, the baby is our daughter and both of you shall forever sit on my skin because you are my family. Distance, relationship status, all of it doesn’t matter, you are family, we are a family, and I need everyone to know that when they see me, they see my family…they see you.”

It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to him when you allowed the hand he was resting his on uncomfortably, to unwind from the tight grasp at your thigh, allowing him to hold it properly, just as he had last night.

“I hate it.”

“What?”

Lewis’ voice broke with upset as you reacted to what he thought was his speech, you felt it in the way that his fingers tensed around yours.

“The answer to your question, when you asked how I felt seeing you with those women, the answer is I hate it. I hate that they know you, I hate that they know your body, I hate how they have moments of your precious free time, I hate that it’s not me.”

It would be impossible to tell who leant in first for the kiss that joined your lips together like they had never once been separated, but as Lewis climbed on top of you, as he laid you back on the bed, it was also impossible to tell which one of you needed to feel the other more as your hands brushed across each others skin with so much longing behind their movements.

The pining for you, the absence of any physical contact, made all of the kisses he trailed down your neck, your collarbone and over your chest urgent. He couldn’t waste a second of his permission to taste you, and it was his moan, his satisfied, deep moan, as he placed a kiss on the very place that radiated heat for him, that was the loudest, suffocating your own moan of a relief you hadn’t felt for years, in the air.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Lewis allowed his words to escape in between laps at your core, his tongue drenched in your taste, his beard the same too. He wanted to be covered in your excitement, soaked in your scent, if it was down to him, he would spend hours in between your thighs, and quite often in the past, he had.

“Mummy…Mummy…Where are you?”

Bambi’s voice reigned down on the scene that played out in the next room to hers, breaking you both out of the lust filled spell with the sharpest of reminders that no longer were you adults with not a care in the world but each other, now you were adults with a lust that had to be tapered until your responsibilities were dealt with.

Lewis reluctantly pulled himself away from your body, allowing you room to get up and fix your dress back down your body like nothing at all had occurred, that was until you looked at Lewis as he drew his fingers across his beard, catching the part of you he was left with now you were separated; your pleasure.

“You better go, if she sees you she will never go back to sleep.”

He knew you were right, yet he couldn’t hide his disappointment at having to leave you as he climbed out of bed and followed you to the door. There was a moment as you both stood in silence in the uncertainty your actions had filled the air with, despite having been between your thighs only seconds ago, Lewis was unsure as to whether a kiss goodbye on your lips would be welcomed, and so he settled for the safety of your right cheek.

“Sweet dreams, babe.”

“You too, Lewis.”

You settled Bambi back to sleep with relative ease as you retold some of her favourite stories to soothe her night terrors, stories of races you had been to with her dad, stories of his incredible talent, his perseverance and stories of how even when everything went against him, he fought through it all to win.

Your little girl didn’t know it yet, she was far too young, but she was probably one of the luckiest children in the world because of who her father was. Sure, his many millions allowed her a life of privilege that neither one of you had been afforded in your childhood, but what made her particularly lucky, was the person she was first given as an example of a human.

Lewis was an inspiration to many, admired by lots, yet your daughter was being raised by him, shown how to be the very best a human could be, and there was nothing in this world you were more certain of than the fact that she would grow up to follow in his footsteps, to be kind, to be gracious, to really give her everything at all times, but most importantly, to love hard and openly, in the face of a world filled with hate.

Your phone screen lit up as you climbed into your own bed, the morning fast approaching and you were certain you wouldn’t have enough sleep to properly function tomorrow, it was Lewis.

‘Where there is family, there is love…❤️’

Such a simple saying, but it warmed your insides all the same. You didn’t reply, he wasn’t expecting you to, instead you placed your phone on the pillow beside you, just how you always did when he was away at races and you were home without him, it allowed you to feel that even when he wasn’t there with you, he was never that far away.

It was quite the routine the three of you had now found yourselves in by the third day. Lewis would help Bambi get ready, the previous two days she had been decked out in as much merch as possible, but not race day, race day Lewis had something special planned, especially as it also coincided with Fathers Day.

He had been waiting for this opportunity from the moment Bambi was born, the perfect moment to match her outfit with his, and his denim dungarees of sorts had given him that chance.

They looked quite the picture, and they photographed beautifully too, you took so many candids of them as she sat between his legs whilst he placed her beautiful braids into two space buns, you could see the cogs turning in his head, wondering if he had enough time to ask his stylist to do his to match too.

“Sweetie, you should probably get dressed now, we have to leave real soon.”

Lewis had forgotten your name the moment you had allowed yourselves to find each other again, that was evident by his continual use of pet names when referring to you. If he had done so a few days ago you would have recoiled in horror, but you bathed in them, you granted their permission to exist, you allowed yourself to not fret about the future, to ignore your worries, and just let today be today, tomorrow would be there whether you worried about it or not.

“Wow…”

Lewis was rarely ever lost for words but as you stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the dress he had chosen, had made and shipped over to Canada just for you, there wasn’t a language in the world that he could find that would make sense for how he felt looking at you.

“You look…wow…”

“Mummy, you look beautiful!”

Bambi found the words her dad couldn’t, as they both stared up at you from where they were sat, their matching beautiful brown eyes filled with a look of love, you felt it, you felt beautiful for the first time in forever, and it was then that you were reminded what it felt like to be the object of Lewis’ desires.

“Thank you, both of you. Lewis you picked so well, I just wish I had a necklace or something to finish it off.”

“Here…”

As he stood up to meet you, he unclasped one of his own necklaces and drew it around you, his fingers laying the single pearl that hung at the end of it on the base of your neck as you both stared at your reflections in the mirror.

You felt the heat radiating off of him, his fingers shook ever so slightly with nerves at his closeness to you once more, and just before he broke away from you, he placed a single kiss on your shoulder, one that lingered for longer than it probably should have.

Your eyes were drawn to your daughters and immediately regret hit your body as you really saw her expression. Bambi’s eyes were wide with astonishment as she read the moment between her parents with more maturity than any three year old should have been capable of. She saw the love, she saw the tenderness and the regret at her witnessing it made you sick to your stomach, so much so you pulled away from him at once.

Only a parent knows what it feels like to be devastated with emotions, torn apart from the inside out with anxieties, yet suffocate them completely with the need to act like you were on cloud nine, like happiness was all you felt, all in aid of the benefit of your daughter’s own smile.

You played the part so well, there wasn’t another person in the vicinity that would know how you truly felt as you held one of Bambi’s hands, Lewis held the other, the three of you walking through the paddock together for the first time ever. All three of you portrayed an image of happiness, of togetherness, yet only one of you was being honest with their feelings; Lewis had never been less certain of your feelings after the way in which you pulled away from his lips and you had your own reasons to mask behind your smiles for the cameras.

As Lewis completed his ritual of kissing you both, Bambi took out the handmade card from behind her back, having hidden it like an expert the whole time.

“Happy Fathers Day, Daddy!”

“Thank you, baby girl. Did you make this?”

“She did. Sorry, if I had more time to prepare I would have bought you a gift too…”

Lewis took in the card he held, Bambi had drawn him pictures, the front being the most telling of her love; the three of you holding hands. You had left him a little note inside too, you felt it was the least you could do.

‘Lewis, there aren’t many ways I can thank you for being such an amazing father to our daughter, but I want you to know that she is, and I am, so very lucky to have you in our lives. Thank you for being you x’

“This is better than any gift, thank you both.”

He repeated his ritual of kisses before he headed to the car, placing the handmade card propped up against the wall beside it, so it was the last thing he saw before he set off.

The race played out rather perfectly for Lewis, and for your daughter too, you felt so very lucky that the first race she got to witness in person was one in which her dad had finished on the podium, that didn’t happen often this year.

As she sat on your hip, the both of you standing at the back behind the Mercedes team, staring up at Lewis on the podium, she literally squealed with excitement as her dad walked to the front of the podium, holding up his trophy as he pointed directly at her. The trophy was for her, and you knew it; she was his lucky charm, after all.

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t won, normally he would have been disappointed with a P3 finish, but not today, not this year and not when he had his daughter there to witness it all happen. P3 felt as good as a win, and that combined with the events of the previous night, had made him the happiest man in the whole paddock.

“Shoot, I am so happy.”

Lewis hugged you both at the same time, swamping you both in his happiness that hadn’t seemed to lessen from the moment he stepped out of the car, and even now after the media duties were complete, it quite literally radiated off of him. You giggled at him finally remembering to not swear in front of your daughter, he so often forgot.

“You are incredible, Lewis, so so incredible. Bambi has had the best weekend, thank you.”

“Are you kidding? I have had the best weekend having her here with me, having you here too.”

You felt the intimacy of the way in which he kept his arm wrapped around your waist as he walked you both to the car, Bambi now planted firmly on his hip, her own arms wrapped around his neck as she rested her exhausted head on his shoulder.

You knew it was wrong, you knew you should pull away, the last thing you wanted to do was give him any false hope and after this morning, after what your daughter had been privy to, you knew the moment you got back to the hotel room, and she was put to bed, you would have to have the most difficult of conversations with him.

For now though, whilst you were all still within the vicinity of the race track, you allowed yourself to remember what it felt like to walk through the paddock, all eyes on you, feeling like the most powerful woman in the world, accompanied by the most powerful of men. It was rare, but sometimes you allowed yourself to be a little selfish with your feelings.

It was sweet, the way that both you and Lewis, although never having discussed it, told the same bedtime stories to Bambi, stories of his wins, but through completely different perspectives; you always made him seem like a hero, he always downplayed his achievements, you wondered which side she believed more.

“She’s finally asleep…look at this picture I took, she looks so cute, doesn’t she?”

Lewis gushed over his phone screen as he held it up for you, your heart tugged with guilt. In this very moment he was content with happiness, certain he knew that things were back on track with you both, yet you knew that in a minute you would be shattering it all, breaking his heart once again.

“She does.”

He saw his opportunity and took it, as you leaned in closer to him to look at the picture, he brushed his fingers over your cheek before he moved in with a kiss. You let him, it was impossible to not, the moment his lips met yours it was as if he hypnotised you into a trance with how serene you felt.

You would have stood in that position for hours, just kissing him. It wasn’t until he began to move you towards the bed that you were jolted back down to earth with the hardest of thuds; heartbreak.

“Lewis, wait…we should talk.”

“I thought we did yesterday? I thought we agreed to try again?”

Taking the exact same spot as you had done only 24 hours ago, you both sat on the end of the bed. Your deep breath was noticeable, it made Lewis panic.

“That’s the problem, Lewis. We agreed nothing, we got so lost in the physical-”

“I’m not going to apologise for never being able to resist you. I am so attracted to you that it hurts, going to sleep with the taste of you on my tongue last night was perfect, I-”

“Stop, please…just stop. Let me finish what I was going to say, it’s important, you need to hear it.”

Lewis wore the most stern of frowns now, a mixture of worry over what you were about to say and disappointment at not being able to finish telling you all of the ways he loved your body.

“This morning, when you placed the necklace on me I saw Bambi watching us. I saw the optimism in her eyes, I saw the hope, I saw emotions and thoughts that she is far too young to understand yet I saw them in her. We can’t do this, we can’t give her a false sense of hope for a family she has never experienced and then take it away from her when it doesn’t work a few months down the line.”

“Why are you so adamant we won’t work? Why are you so sure we will fail?”

“There’s no guarantee we will work, and that is enough for me to not even try if I can avoid our daughter's heartbreak. We literally became a family from a one night stand, we were never meant to be, there was no romantic back story to us, just a wild night of passion that resulted in us having to spend the rest of our lives trying to navigate as parents to a daughter who deserves better.”

“You know this whole ‘never meant to be because we just fucked’ thing is stupid right? So because we didn’t spend a few weeks going on dates, getting to know each other, because we didn’t get married and plan our daughter, that means everything that happened didn’t play out exactly how it was supposed to?”

“That doesn’t matter, Lewis, what-”

“It is exactly what does matter, sweetie. You have this ideology in your head that everything should be how it is in the movies, or in books, you always have done but it is blinding you, it is blinding you to what is right in front of you, begging you see it.”

Lewis took your hands once more, this time you tried to pull away but he didn’t let you, he didn’t let you blind yourself to him, he wanted you to see him, to see all of him, and to feel everything he was trying to make you feel.

“The truth is, none of what has happened over the past four years would be how either one of us planned it, had we had the chance. But I also know that as unconventional as those years have been, they have also provided me some of the best years of my life.”

His thumbs stroked across the tops of your hands, lulling you, providing you comfort in one of the most intense moments of your life.

“You’re right when you say that there are no guarantees that we will work, there isn’t, but what I can guarantee, the thing I can be absolutely certain of, that my promise to you when we first found out you were expecting, the promise of always being there for you and our daughter, always putting you both first, always making sure to protect you, still stands strong today.”

“In an ideal world, in a world in which we didn’t have to consider the feelings of anyone else, I would agree with you, Lewis. But we can’t be so reckless, we have to be so careful with everything we do, we can’t just try and hope for the best, for Bambi’s sake.”

The sigh he let out was loud, frustrated at the fact that none of the words he spilled from the bottom of his heart, was even penetrating the first layer of yours.

“The little girl in the next room is exactly the reason we need to try. I love you, I have always loved you and I think our daughter deserves to see her mummy be showered with love by a man who adores her, don’t you think?”

Silence, your favourite kind of response when you knew you couldn’t disagree with a point he had made.

“Tell me I’m wrong, tell me that every single part of you is not screaming out for you to give me a chance, tell me you don’t love me too…”

Lewis knew the answers already, he could tell by the way that even with your eyes closed, your faces almost touching, you loved him, your lips desperately seeking his through sense alone, told him so.

“I…I…of course I love you, of course I love you Lewis. I’ve always loved you, always…I just…I’m scared…so scared…”

Your eyes stayed tightly shut as if you were scared to look at him mid confession, your words spoke into his lips as he teased you with almost kisses, but he didn’t stop you from talking, he didn’t halt your train of thought.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. Let me protect you, let me love you, let us finally be a family…”

Lewis didn’t stop his chants of promises of all the ways he vowed to make you happy as he laid you back on the bed, an almost identical movement to the previous night as he fought ferociously to go down on you.

This time, as his lips sucked your clit in between them, it was your moan that was the loudest, it was built from two years of longing to feel his mouth again, two years of longing to have him, and that moan, the very first moan, was two years worth of tension escaping your body.

“I need you, Lewis…”

Your words hung in the air as he tussled with his constant urge to taste you, and his desire to be buried deep inside of you, never quite taking his tongue off of your clit until he had decided to give into what you also needed.

He moved up your body, your fingers encouraging him as you held onto his arms to get him to where you wanted him faster, he met you once again with a kiss. The very second you realised he was stripping you, you stopped him, tense from anxiety of him seeing your body in all of its glory.

Lewis felt it and he knew why, despite you not even saying a word, he knew what had caused your tension and he knew exactly how to settle it.

With every layer of material that he removed, he replaced it with the sweetest, most tender of kisses, until he had you completely bare underneath him, his eyes unable to take in enough of you to satisfy his gaze that ran all over your skin.

“Don’t ever think you need to hide your body from me, I love it, it gave me our daughter after all.”

Lewis lay down on top of you, taking his time to ensure you felt all of the love that he so desperately wanted to radiate out of him as he danced with your tongue.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I love you too.”

“You know I didn’t invite you here just for this, right?”

“Lewis please, enough talking just fuck me.”

He giggled right up until the second he entered you, as he felt your warmth engulf him, he found it impossible to do anything but groan, watching your lips contort into a gasp that seemed to go on forever.

Lewis fucked you like it was the first time all over again, every stroke was driven with the full strength of his love for you, every thrust was heavy with the weight of his need to please you; there was nothing at all selfish about the way in which Lewis made love to you that night.

“I’m so close…”

“I can feel it, sweetie…when it hits, don’t scream, bite down on my shoulder.”

“But I don’t…oh fuck…”

Lewis had no time for your protest at not wanting to hurt him, all it took was one more carefully placed stroke to make you fall completely apart under him. He was right, his shoulder was the best thing to sink your teeth into when he was making sure you had no choice left but to scream.

It was as if the sting of your bite on his skin had made him orgasm too, within an instant he had met your undoing with his own as he filled you up to the brim; reminding you exactly of your first time with him, ironically.

“Does it hurt?”

You were laid on his chest, your finger stroking the marking you had given him in the heat of the moment, as he stroked your back with his own, the two of you comfortable in silence for the very first time in such a long while.

“A little but I like it.”

“I could tell you liked it…”

“Shut up, I meant because it will remind me of you when I am next away.”

Lewis hadn’t meant to remind you of his pending absence, but nevertheless he had and all at once you remembered what it felt like to be in a relationship with him. All moments together had a dark cloud of absence looming over them like an expiry date for your happiness, and he felt it too.

“You know you can come with me to Silverstone too, if you want?”

You raised yourself up on his chest, he met you with such a warm smile you couldn’t help but lean in and nuzzle your nose against his. What Bambi didn’t know was that whilst that is now her and her daddy’s ‘thing’, originally it was yours.

“We’ll see. I guess we have a lot of talking to do, plans to make for the future if we’re really going to try…”

“Yes, we do. But not tonight, tonight let me just enjoy having you all to myself again please. The future can wait until tomorrow-”

Lewis grabbed your waist, pulling you on top of him where his hands took place at your hips. You both hadn’t a stitch of clothing on, all it would take would be one little slide at the right angle and he would be inside of you once more.

“Daddy…are you still here?”

Bambi’s voice tore through the moment and the both of you groaned with light frustration, you had never had to get used to interruptions, this amongst many things would be a learning curve for the both of you.

“The future might be able to wait until tomorrow, but she definitely won’t…you better go to her.”

Lewis threw on his shorts, not caring that they were both the wrong way round and inside out, as he left the room to tend to his daughter's needs, he turned back to you at the doorway.

“Don’t fall asleep, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

You let out a childish giggle, Lewis often made you feel like a teenager so madly in love with the most popular boy in high school, it was nice to see he still had that effect.

“I’ll try not to, now go tell Bambi a story, tell her about Silverstone 2019…prepare her for when we join you there this year.”

Lewis’ eyes lit up before he ran back over to the bed, just to kiss you with the weight of a lifetime of thanks behind it.

“Daddy!”

“Go…I will stay up, I promise.”

“You better.”

PART TWO

[sellensand]

The truth about the Golden Lineage

Ok sooo I've just had a MASSIVE realization about Godfrey's children with Marika and I need to share it with the Elden Ring lore community. I have no idea if anyone has already put this theory forward, but as soon as it crossed my mind I knew I had to write it down before I forgot about it.

ELDEN RING SPOILERS BELOW.

I had always kind of assumed that Godwyn the Golden was Godfrey and Marika's firstborn child. This is not stated anywhere though, it was no more than an assumption on my behalf. So I began to wonder... what if the omen twins were actually older than Godwyn? What if they were Marika's first children with Godfrey? The Crucible predates the Golden Age of the Erdtree after all...

Once again, I had always assumed that Morgott and Mohg were thrown into the sewers of Leyndell as soon as they were born, which doesn't really make any sense considering:

- They are both quite well-spoken. They don't act like they were brought up by giant slugs and rats with no contact with the outside world. They are not like the feral omens we fight in the sewers.

- They had to use special shackles in order to keep them down there. As if... they would try to escape. To go back home. Someone had to make sure they never got out.

- They brought at least one doll with them. Newborn babies don't play with dolls, children do.

- Godfrey's words towards Morgott ("It's been a long while...") and the way he holds his son's dead body imply they once knew each other. They once had some kind of relationship. And I'm inclined to believe that Morgott remembers and loves his father too: as SmoughTown points out in his latest video, the magic seal from which Godfrey's golden ghost appears is the exact same Crucible seal that Morgott uses when he "teleports". Morgott created a spectral protector of the Erdtree in the image of his father (I'm about to cry).

So, if Mo & Mo once lived in the surface, why were they shunned? Well, here comes the crazy part. Once upon a time, in the Age of the Crucible, horns, scales, wings and other beastly parts were considered sacred, divine. They were the manifestation of the power of the Tree, from which all life begins, where all life is blended together. With Godfrey being a man from the Age of the Crucible (his knights are the Crucible Knights), it is possible that his first children with Marika, Mo & Mo, were actually revered when they were born.

However, at some point, something motivated Marika to change the dogma. The conquest of the Mountaintops of the Giants gave way to the Golden Age of the Erdtree. All things Crucible were suddenly frown upon. Lord Godfrey and his warriors were exiled from the Lands Between. And the omen twins had to be forsaken.

LUCKILY the royal couple had produced another child, one more in line with the religious ideals of the new age: Godwyn, a perfectly built golden boy, without any Crucible in him. A strikingly handsome prince, with a gorgeous set of long, androginous, golden hair, who we've only seen wearing a beautifully embroidered skirt. His looks and his fashion sense always reminded me of a certain red-headed champion of the Golden Age of the Erdtree...

Has anyone else noticed that the items related to the Prince of Death require both Faith and Intelligence? I'm talking about the Prince of Death's Staff (allegedly made out of a fragment of Godwyn's corpse) and all of the Death sorceries (which said staff boosts). You know which other items also require both of those stats, right? Well, as far as I know, only Rykard's Magma sorceries and the Golden Order incantations need both Fai and Int to be used. And the Sword of Night and Flame, yes, a Carian heirloom hidden in their Manor.

HUH. I wonder what the Carian royal family and Golden Order Fundamentalism have in common... OH, I KNOW. They are both connected to Radagon, the champion who aspired to be complete by dominating both sorceries and incantations.

My point is... What if Godwyn is not Godfrey's? What if he's Radagon's? What if he was Marika's first attempt at having descendants by herself? She was devastated by Godwyn's death because he was her favorite, her perfect golden boy, a personification of the Golden Order and a living proof that she was the One True God.

Now let's have some fun with this theory. We all know about Miquella's obsession with Godwyn ("O brother, lord brother..."). Some have speculated that the statue of the older figure embracing young Miquella and Malenia in Loretta's arena in the Haligtree might be Godwyn, because it doesn't sport Marika/Radagon's signature braid and the asset is apparently flat-chested (according to Vaati's Miquella Lore video).

Did either Miquella or Godwyn know the truth? Was Godwyn particularly protective of the Empyrean twins because they were more than just his half-siblings? I honestly don't know, buy it's not hard to imagine what they felt after their older brother's murder...

I obviously don't have all the answers, but if all of the above was true, it would mean that the whole Golden Lineage is built on a lie, because the firstborn male heir of Godfrey was not only not the firstborn at all, but he was also not Godfrey's! This would be so GRRM it's insane! Even Godrick's pride and his fondness of Lion iconography becomes all the more ridiculous!

Am I going too far with this? Please let me know if I'm losing my mind over this game.

(Oh and link me to any similar theories if you know of any, because I can't be the only one crazy enough to have thought about this).

[writefightandflightclub]

Trial by Fire (Part 1/3) Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN reader

Summary: You’re finally introducing your new boyfriend to The Boys. It must be intimidating for your guy because, hello? Not only are they literally lethal, as well as infeasibly handsome, but they’re hella protective of you to boot. They want the best for you so, naturally, they make your guy run the gauntlet the whole evening. Santiago, though? Well. Given that he is secretly in love with you? Let’s just say he doesn’t handle the situation very well at all.

Genre / tropes: angst, friends to lovers, love confession.

Author’s note: I wasn’t planning on writing this (in fact I’m writing the opposite, where “Santi has a new girlfriend and you don’t take it well” as a series, loosely based around the 7 deadly sins); but, in the meatime, I wrote this to get back into the swing of things after a lil break. It’s just a quick one, but there will be a second and final part, if you want it! Let me know!

Word count: somehow, 4.4k.

Warnings: language, angst, best friends arguing, Santi being an asshole.

Rating: T

The boys aren’t being as awful as you had anticipated, at least. For the most part, they’re actually being pretty friendly, and although they’ve transitioned into grilling Dean about every aspect of his life, they are at least listening intently and smiling at his answers. All except for one fucker, of course; and, naturally, surprising no-one, the fucker misbehaving is one (1) Santiago “Pope” Garcia. 

The group - the boys, yourself, and Dean- are huddled comfortably around the blazing warmth of the fire pit in Frankie’s yard. The dancing, oranged flames cut through the dark and cold of the crisp night, as you sit upwind of the smoke on scattered, mis-matched camp chairs.

Whilst the others are evidently enjoying the evening -faces painted with smiles, body language open and leaning-in to chat to Dean- that fucker Santi is leaning back in his chair, his jaw twitching in seeming aggravation, his arms folded, and his intense eyes needling your beau. In this dim light, with the firelight licking over the sharp planes of his face, he looks every bit like a trained killer about to leap out of the shadows and garotte someone. Well… a very petulant trained killer. His call sign should have been Mr. Grumpy Pants, you think idly.

What’s up with him this time?! you wonder.

He gets these moods sometimes. And, when it strikes him, he can be a little bit hostile - despite the fact he’s a puppy underneath it all. You had hoped that for once, maybe he would suck it up, and yet, your hopes had been in vain, it seems.

Every time Dean speaks, or touches you, or even laughs at another of the guys’ stories, Santi’s expression sinks further and further through layers of distaste; and, by this point, he’s eyeing Dean as though he’s a war criminal the squad have been sent to take-out. You half expect him to leap up and take down Frankie any second for fraternizing with “the enemy”, if you’re honest.

Truth be told, you’ve had just about enough of this. Your friend had better buck his ideas up, sharpish, or he’d be reminded very swiftly that you were Delta Force too.  

For now, trying to ignore the bastard, you look back at Dean, and the sight of him in animated conversation with your buddies causes at least some of your aggravation to fall away. Things have been going well between you and Dean, even if you do say so yourself. Originally from Michigan, he now worked as a lecturer at a nearby music school. He was also a banjo musician in a bluegrass / synth power-pop mash-up of a band, which (sort of) explained his retro-inspired mop of brown hair and his thick dark moustache - majestic enough to rival Frankie’s. True, he wasn’t your usual type, but he was honest, and sweet and kind... Plus, he’d never killed anyone with his bare hands, which was rather refreshing too, if you were honest.

Safe to say, so far, things were working out. So well, in fact, that you’d recently met his parents for the first time while they were in town. So well, in fact, that -after keeping him purposefully away from the boys for as long as you feasibly could- you’d now brought him to meet your family. That’s what this squad was to you, after all. Your family.

Remembering sporadic moments from the past few months together, you smile gently as you listen to Dean talk. You watch him seamlessly integrate some tailored conversation starters you’d fed him ahead of time, and you gently squeeze his thigh in an act of reassurance and appreciation. He is feeling the pressure, you can tell, although he is handling it well. To be fair, you think, who wouldn’t feel the pressure? You’d been nervous enough to meet his parents, but this? A bunch of Delta Force guys and an MMA champion? This squad was lethal; literally -you’ve lost track of your combined kill count, though Will probably hasn’t, you are sure.

Aside from that though, most of all, they are your family. You need them to like Dean and vice versa, and you know that isn’t necessarily a given. You are a tight-knit group, with little hope of outsiders grasping the full extent of your decade’s old in-jokes, or the intense camaraderie instilled by facing a hail of bullets together. Plus, as the baby of the group, they were protective as all hell of you.

It came from a good place, you knew: they wanted what was best for you. But, there was a reason you’d delayed this meeting... It’s not as though they were threatening or anything. They didn’t do the whole “if you hurt our buddy, I’ll kill you” thing, for example (at least, not while you were present – you couldn’t vouch for what happened when you were out of earshot).  However, after introducing a succession of boyfriends to them over the years, the squad had developed a well-rehearsed system for sizing-up your new squeeze. In the past, not all of your squeezes had made it through the gauntlet. It was a trial by fire, to be sure, and you were pleased that Dean has not yet been burned.

Of course, whilst the boys’ approval didn’t mean everything to you, you couldn’t deny it was important; perhaps especially this time, with this guy. And, out of all of the group, Santi’s approval meant the most to you. Always had. Probably because Santi meant the most to you, full stop. You simply couldn’t imagine having someone in your life that didn’t get on with your best friend. And, so, you are not overly thrilled at the reception Santi is giving Dean right now. The reception he had been giving him all evening, in fact. And the more you dwell on it, the more an anger bubbles forth from you. Even though you try to push it down, and focus on Dean, that fucker in the corner of your eye sends you.

“What’s wrong with you tonight, Garcia?” you blurt out, a little louder than intended, causing the amiable chat and giggles to stall, all eyes turning to you - then, in turn, following the direction of your fiery gaze over to Santi, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Now, he leans forward. Looks back at you with a rare venom in his eyes. With a smug curl of his mouth, he dips to pick up his beer from the floor and takes a swig - buying himself some time. Trying to brush you off. Still, your gaze does not relent as he rests his elbows on his thighs, bridging his fingers together in the space between, thumbs sticking in the air.

Now, he engages, and he looks directly at Dean, his eyes sweeping dismissively over the entirety of his form. Now, he speaks, his voice filled with far more bitterness than the situation merits. “Nothing at all. I’m fucking peachy. So, Dean. You play the motherfuckin’ banjo?” he offers, and yet, it sounds far more like an accusation than a question.

What the fuck is up with him?

Wilting a little beneath Santi’s stare, as the ex-operative squints his eyes in his direction, Dean casts a helpless, sideward glance at you from his place in the circle, and yet, you are so stupefied by anger that you can do little to help.

“I think what my dear friend means to say -” Frankie dips in valiantly, smacking Santi pointedly on the thigh, likely hoping to smack some sense into him too “- is why don’t you tell us more about your music, Dean?”

Frankie’s eyes and smile are soft when he looks at you, surreptitiously exchanging a pointed look -what’s up with that pendejo?- and you are grateful that at least some of the evident tension is diffused when he picks up the slack in the conversation.

Santi and his mood swings be damned, and, feeling bolstered, Dean continues on.  

“Actually, it’s going pretty frickin’ well with the band. It’s a side-gig to my lecturing job, but we’re planning a tour during summer vacation. The States -east coast- and Western Europe for now. Maybe headlining a couple of small festivals, if that pans out, who knows.” Dean relates, humbly.

“That’s great, man,” Will chips in, helping Frankie get things back on track. “We’ll have to come down to a gig soon, hear you play.”

“Actually, we have something to tell you about the tour, don’t we, babe?” Dean says bashfully, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to pick-up the thread. You’d talked about it before coming today, and it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but suddenly, now that the announcement is imminent, your mouth is dry - as if filled with cotton. Still, you force a smile, and you’re not sure why, but you look anywhere else but at Santi as your lips form the words. “Yeah – kinda big news, fellas. I’m going to join Dean on the Europe leg of the tour. I’ll be leaving you losers behind for a few months.”

Dean’s face cracks into a smile and he reaches for your hand, looking made-up at the prospect. Still, while you will yourself to be fully present in the moment, you find yourself focussed on looking anywhere but at Santi, sure that his stare must be boring into the side of your head. You hadn’t told him yet. Unfortunately, at Santi is where just about everyone else ends up looking, as the fucker abruptly pushes his camp chair back and stands, storming indoors before anyone can hope to fathom it.

You exchange glances with Frankie, Will, and Benny, with Benny thankfully stepping-in this time to distract Dean from the obvious, and asking him which stops you two will be making, and which sights you plan to see.

“Look, man, don’t mind that tool. Got any sightseeing plans?”

What is Santi’s problem? Why can’t he give Dean a chance? Yes, you’ve made some mistakes in the past- been hurt, and Santi had helped you pick up the pieces -every time- but you had a good feeling about Dean. A really good feeling. Can’t he see that too?

Frankie throws a concerned glance back towards the house and motions as if to stand, but you beat him to it, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “I’ll go,” you insist, motioning for Frankie to stay put, and with a quick promise to Dean that you’ll be back soon (and a silent plea to your boys to take care of him in your absence), you do just that, walk-jogging across the grass.

When you step inside to the kitchen, you find Santi stood, hunched over the counter, his palms clasping the surface tight enough that his knuckles pale, and his head hung low, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes in exaggerated breaths.

“Well?” you ask pointedly, with zero tolerance for his bullshit. “What’s going on with you? Wanna explain why you’re being an ass to my boyfriend?” you challenge to the back of him, and he instantly whips around at the sound of your voice. 

“I’m being an ass?” he asks indignantly, his eyebrows shooting towards the top of his head. 

“Yes. In a nutshell. Yes,” you hiss, any other interpretation feeling impossible. You fold your arms and purse your lips, making it plainly evident that you are waiting for some explanation. And, oh boy, it had better be good.

Instead of explaining though, Santi simply huffs out breath, gesturing angrily out of the window. “That guy, really? That’s the guy you’re gonna go all in for? Go to fucking Europe for?”

That guy, you mouth silently, completely stupefied for a moment. You’re not sure exactly what your so-called friend is insinuating, but you are clear that you don’t like it one bit.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask, punctuating your words with motions of your hands, as if you are trying to strangle the air in-between you in lieu of his neck. “Dean’s a catch. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a nice guy. He’s there for me. He takes care of me.”

“Like I don’t take care of you?!” Santi exclaims, his voice rising and abrasive; and then, immediately after the words tumble forth from his lips, he steps back imperceptibly, as if startled by his own outburst, his hand rasping over the stubble on his chin.

“What in the...? This isn’t about you, you ass!” you bite back, face scrunching up in confusion. Your fingers come to your temples as you grow increasingly lost-off and perplexed, and seemingly, your riposte only makes Santi double down on whatever the hell he is complaining about.

“Who’s the one who’s always been there for you, hmm? Who picks up the pieces every time you make yet another dumb shitty choice with another shitty guy?” he rambles, gesturing his hand towards you dismissively.

You step back from him this time, just a little, tears spiking instantaneously in your eyes at such an unnecessarily cruel blow. He’s right, in a sense: you had always relied on Santi to heal you, not to hurt you - and yet here he was dealing these painful, incoherent blows out of nowhere.

“Shit, Garcia. If it’s that much trouble to be there for me don’t bother next time,” you snap, your voice breaking as the swell of anger and hurt and adrenalin sends tears spilling over your cheeks. “Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’ll need you again. In fact, I have a feeling this guy might stick. So, maybe? Maybe you should think about the fact that the only shitty guy around here is you.” 

“You really think he’s good enough for you, hmm? He’s really who you want to end up with?”

You listen, aghast, as his tirade keeps coming. However, as Santi’s voice breaks with emotion part-way through his second question, you can’t explain it, but you feel an intolerable sadness in the pit of you. Even though you’re not sure what’s causing all this, what you’re barrelling toward, you want to thrust this sadness away from you. Push him away from you.  You want to push away the knot in your stomach for fear that if you tug at that thread, you might arrive at an answer to his question.

Exasperated, overwhelmed, you roughly paw tears from your cheeks, not knowing where all of these feelings are coming from, in either direction. “Fuck, I... I don’t understand what this is. I don’t get it!” you say, waving your hands, palms-up, through the air. “Is this some macho bullshit? Have I pissed you off somehow?”

At that, the wave of Santi’s anger crests and breaks; as you wonder if you annoyed him. Then, as suddenly as his anger came it is waning, his eyes pooling with rare tears now. With a huff of breath he tears off his damn cap, tossing it aside to run a hand through his grizzled hair. 

“No. No,” he backtracks a little, palms up in surrender. “You haven’t... I.... I just...” He pinches his lips in-between his teeth and looks up at the ceiling as his words trail off, perhaps trying to steady his voice before continuing. Or, perhaps he has nothing else to say to you. Perhaps he’s said enough.

You examine him. Still pissed as all hell, but worried now too, and ultimately, your love for your best friend slightly edging-out the anger. It’s rare that anything affects him like this, and you can’t help the sudden rush of concern.

Cresting too, you exhale a tightly held breath into the now silent, taut space between you, and your body sags - just a little. You chew over your words a moment, but when your voice comes back the volume is lower, your tone softer - and, although it cannot be considered friendly, by any stretch, it’s the best you can do right now.

“You know what,” you offer, generously, wrapping your arms around your own middle, stroking your forearms with your own fingertips. “I’m giving you a pass. You don’t even want to give Dean a chance? Then just leave, Santi. Just go. I’ll give the guys some bullshit excuse that doesn’t leave you looking like a total ass, because I’m not a dick to my friends. So just go, okay?” You pump your eyebrow at him indignantly and await a response, your manner stiff and unyielding.

Santi closes his eyes and knits his brow together, something like regret finally passing over his face and he shuffles guiltily from foot-to-foot.

You puff out air through your teeth and shake your head, as you observe this Delta Force hero; the bravest man you know in many ways, but still too cowardly to tell it like it is. To admit that he’s in the wrong. You are afraid to say that even as his gaze comes back to you, misty-eyed, you have little sympathy for his plight. You are sure it is of his own doing. You are almost as sure that he won’t open-up.

“You know,” you begin, breaking from your position and gathering up a fresh cooler of beers from the fridge, turned away from him as you speak. “I brought Dean to meet my family. Do you understand that? I didn’t have parents and siblings for him to meet. I have you guys. You’re my family.”

Still nothing. Nothing but silence greets you. Nothing but a pained expression on his face, his brows drown together and the artificial light of the kitchen highlighting the harsh planes of his face as you look over your shoulder at him, waiting for some reaction. Some admission of guilt. None comes. He simply slots his hands into his jean pockets, looking sheepish.

“So,” you continue, greeted with a brick wall, “fuck knows why you don’t want me to be happy, but I am. I’m happy with him. Thanks a ton for shitting all over that.”

You don’t even bother to look towards him this time, instead placing the last of the clinking, condensation-adorned bottles into the carrier, resigned to head back out without him, and without any apology.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your head whips towards him in surprise.

He looks it - sorry. He looks apologetic. Deeply so. He looks sorry for this, for every way he’s ever slighted you, for every time he’s hurt you, even in ways and moments you never knew about. He looks sorry down to the pit of him, and it catches you off-guard when you see it freely offered there in his eyes.

Even so, this is a stubborn man. There’s an apology, but there’s no explanation. Nothing to explain his behaviour. So, even though it seems genuine, it also doesn’t seem like enough.

It doesn’t appease you, and yet, all you can bring yourself to do is sigh deeply.

You know Santi better than anyone, but there’s always been a part of him that has seemed out of reach, even to you. You’re not sure -never have been- whether to be scared or excited by those unknown parts of him. Not sure whether the impasse hints at buried secrets too dark and deep to bear, or whether it hints of a possibility of something more. Something deeper or something better you could have together, if only he would let you in. You don’t know, and you never have, but all you are sure of is that you have constantly teetered on the edge of that abyss, too much left unknown to know all of him, however much you may have wished to. He’s entitled to his secrets, of course, but you hate how they hurt him. 

With a little sympathy now, you examine his watery eyes, and when your voice comes back this time, it is softer and slower than you intended. More tired than you expected.

“You know, Dean wants to be with me. And he tells me so.” You casually dip down to pick-up the cooler handle, eyes still fixed on your best friend. “He might not be Delta Force… he might be a banjo player from Michigan… but even he’s brave enough for that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Santi says, bristling all over again, his hand rasping angrily over his stubbled jaw, and yet, you decline him an explanation. Instead, keeping your own secrets now, holding back, you head towards the door, beers in hand.

Still, you turn back to him. You might be angry, but you still care for him -more than you could say. 

“If you figure out what’s up with you, let me know, and I’ll be there for you. Whatever you’ve got going on, you know that, right? But this? This isn’t okay, Garcia. You might think that I make dumb choices -you ass, by the way- but I’ve watched you hit self-destruct so many times instead of dealing with your feelings. Maybe you should look at your own life, huh, instead of shitting all over me for trying to be happy? Shit, at least I fucking try.”

His eyes shift from side to side in the room, the muscles in his jaw twitching, chin jutting forward, and his thumbs locked in his belt loops. He can’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze; at least not until you are disappearing through the threshold; until it’s almost too late. Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

“Wait!” he pleads, but you cut him off, before he can speak. Even though, truth be told, you’re not sure he would muster anything to say at all, even if you gave him a chance. He’s so used to holding back.

“No,” you say firmly. “Forget it, I’m done. I still love you- you’re my best friend. But, fuck, just go home, and get out of my sight, Santiago. I’m so pissed with you right now.”

And so, you turn away, and when his words finally do come, they are spoken to the back of your head. They are spoken without you ever seeing his lips move, and you wonder if he ever said them at all, or if this might be some cruel trick of the night. Some witching hour spell. That is, until you turn towards him and you see the words painted clearly on his face too.

“Fuck it. I’m in love with you.”

I’m in love with you.

Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

You’re not sure what reaction he was expecting, but you almost choke on the sudden lump in your throat. You feel a taste of bile rising-up into your mouth. An intense, resurgent anger fills you, which near makes the room spin, and makes your hands and your legs tremble.

Even if a hidden, unconscious part of you has been waiting, hoping for these words all these years, when they finally come all you can feel is... royally pissed off.

“Oh. No. No. No,” you repeat, words gradually increasing in volume, looking at Santi as if he has mortally wounded you, rather than offered that confession. “You do not get to do this to me.”

You see a hard swallow bob down his throat, a near-instant regret on his face, and your heart pounds in your chest as you reel with the implications of his words.

The coward. The fucking asshole. He waited until now? All the times things had gone to shit, and he waited until you were happy?

“All the times...” you accuse, your tone as bitter as the taste in your mouth, the metallic tang of blood as you feel a rushing in your ears. “All the fucking times. All the chances, Santi, and you do this now?” you continue, your finger sawing through the air, wagging accusations at him, even as your voice wavers, as your hands notceably tremble. “No. Fuck you, Garcia. Fuck you.”

You want to cry, or scream, but you are too angry. So angry, that it eclipses anything else which might come to light. So angry that you almost come full circle again, beginning to stabilise out at eerily calm.

Santi looks down at the floor, and exhales air, chuckling disbelievingly to himself, then lightly nodding his head, lips pressed tightly together. His feet shift agitatedly below him as he brings his endlessly familiar eyes back up to meet yours. This time when he looks at you, it hurts. You remember bullet wounds, and you swear that was nothing compared to this.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say to me, hmm? Fuck you, Garcia?”

“What the fuck were you expecting?” you say, launching your words before you realise the implications of them. Yes, you know fine well that your boyfriend is sitting outside, likely wondering where you have got to. But, if you had the wherewithall to have thought about it, you would know exactly what Santi was expecting, despite all of that. You would know that a part of him must be expecting, hoping, that when he told you, you might reciprocate. That you might love him back.

And, would that be so outside of the realms of possibility? Would it be so hard to imagine that the deep, magnetic, and unshakeable friendship you shared could be something else? Something more? That you could tip over the edge you had long been teetering on? Maybe it could, or maybe it could have, but right now, you can’t see past the flashbang he has just dropped over your life, and it is clouding your vision.

You were happy. You are happy. Fuck him for doing this now.

Why would you fall into the unknown for him, if you never knew whether he would catch you? If you never knew whether ruin or safety awaited you if you let yourself tip? He always held back.

What the fuck were you expecting?

Your words linger in the space between you, and in lieu of any other lifeline, realisation dawns on Santi’s face. Realisation that, although he jumped, you are not intending to catch him either. But how could you catch him, with your arms already full?

And, so, he slowly nods his head once again, his eyes beading with glassy tears and his hand grazing over his chin in a self-soothing gesture. Wordlessly, he sets his jaw and he abruptly replaces his baseball cap on his head, padding a few steps forward to stand opposite you, sucking all of the breath from your lungs. This time, when he looks at you, you see all of your past, but you still can’t see beyond that. The abyss still scares you too much.

Like this, facing each other down, eye-to-eye, the silence in the room grows sharp as a knife, refined to a point. So, when Santi abruptly turns to leave in a sharp, determined trajectory, without so much as looking at you, it is as if he has dragged the blade across your skin in an equally swift motion. As if he has left you open and bleeding-out, having delivered a mortal wound with the act of his exit. You’ve felt like this on the battelfield before, and in life, yet he was always there for you. Always there to patch you. To pick up the pieces.

Instead of screaming open-mouthed for help, this time, you simply watch him go, and now you are the wordless one, mustering nothing but a gasped inhale of breath before your vision blurs with tears - as you watch his hazy form disappear along the hall and out of your sight.

“Santi,” you call pathetically, your voice small and weak and teary, barely making it past your throat, and he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t hear you but even if he had, you’re not sure anymore if he would have stopped.

When Santi slams the front door behind him, you shudder with it in its frame, your hand coming to your chest as if to hold your heart inside your opened-up ribs, and you close your eyes against the jarring sound, tears spilling down your cheeks, your face screwing-up into a shined, contorted grimace.

Entirely lost, now alone, you bizarrely wish for the room to be filled with anger again, instead of the intolerable sadness - which all too suddenly takes hold of you as your emotions crest and break. It is all you can do to stumble forward a few paces and hunch over the countertop, finding yourself in the exact position you had discovered Santi in. You stand, bracing yourself with your arms, fingers clutching the edge of the worktop, and your head slumped forward, tears freely spilling out of you as your chest heaves.

You wonder whether he’d held himself in this same position because he had felt an intolerable sadness too. An intolerable sadness at seeing you happy.

Suddenly you could understand it.

That fucker. Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

I’m in love with you.

I’m in love with you.

The words echo in your mind, but this time, if you’re honest, you’re not wholly sure if they’re his, or yours.

PART TWO IS HERE

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 4 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Part 4 of my ‘Triwizard Baby’ mini-series, please read Parts 1, 2, and 3 if you haven’t already. Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Warnings: Swearing, Mention vomiting, and food/eating.

"Girls" you sighed, watching them finally stop jumping on their beds and dropping their pillows "There's something I need to tell you."

You and Angelina shared a glance, she knew and so did you - you were finally ready, to tell the truth. Hiding this - hiding the truth about you and Fred had caused you enough pain, and the longer you decided to hide this, the worse the pain would get.

"What is it?" Katie asked, already concerned, no longer giggly or excitable.

Staring and picking at your fingernails, you finally looked each of your friends in the eyes, your heart thumping in your chest with each breath.

"I'm ready to tell you" you sighed again "who the father is."

They all stayed silent except Matt's little sister, "who is it?" she asked quietly.

"Fred," you blurted out, unable to hide his name for much longer "Fred Weasley is the father."

"I've told you" Fred hissed "don't bloody speak to me!" he stormed in front of George, stamping his feet, furious his backstabbing brother would dare to even speak to him.

Fred was exhausted from sleeping in the room of requirement alone and no one to talk to, he was pissed off with his brother, frustrated that you weren't his and that everyone around him avoided him as if he had a curse. For the first time in his life, he left as if he had run out of luck.

George grabbed him by the arm "Freddie, please-"

"No!" Fred shoved George's grip off him "You're jealous, you always have been."

George opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't get a word in.

"You always have been, every girl I've been with, you've chased after when I'm done with them. You can't stand the fact I fucked her, and you've rubbed it in my face that you've knocked her up!" Fred's voice cracked "And I told you, I loved her!"

"Fred, I-"

"Do me a favour, Georgie, don't speak a word to me at the baby shower, unless you want a crib smashed against your stupid head!"

"Keep those eyes closed!" Angelina grinned, her hands covering your eyes as she walked you through the rented restaurant covered in banners, balloons, a buffet table and presents.

"I am!" you smirked, feeling slightly nervous, smelling the mouth-watering fruit juices and pies.

"Okay," Angelina smiled, removing her hands "open in three, two, one!"

Opening your eyes you looked across the huge room, your friends were all huddled together with party poppers, yelling "Surprise!" and pulling the string, confetti shooting across the room, Fred sat alone across the room, trying his hardest to show support and be happy for you, but his heartbreak was breaking through his persona better than he thought.

You were bombarded with presents for you and the baby: the new crib, clothes, socks, bottles, nappies, monitors, teddy bears, and blankets - you unwrapped everything which brought the biggest smile to your face and tears of happiness to your eyes.

Everyone made bets on whether you would have a girl or a boy, what time and day they would be born on, and how long the labour would be. Even you had to admit, you were having a good time and for the first time in a while, the smile on your face was genuine, not forced.

After hours of present opening, games, bets, and food, you and the girls cleaned up the confetti, empty plates and scrunched up wrapping paper. Fred slowly approached you and tapped you on the shoulder, turning around to look at him, your heart pained.

Tell him, everyone knows but him, just tell him!

"Freddie-"

"Y/N, can I have a moment?" he murmured.

The girls looked at the two of you standing in the middle of the room, they exchanged looks and nodded, leaving to give you both some privacy.

"I wanted to give this to you in private," Fred said softly, handing you a large faux dragon scale photo album "I ran out of time to wrap it, was up all night finishing it."

You stared down at the photo album and opened it, your heartbreaking with each turn of the page. Pictures of you and Fred throughout the years, followed by his little notes of when and where the picture was taken until you flicked to the empty pages, you stared up at him.

Tell him, now is a perfect time-

"Fred, please-"

"The blank pages are to fill with pictures of us and the baby," he said softly "that's if the father won't mind."

George entered the room again, not knowing his brother was still there.

"Y/N, I was thinking-" he stopped in his tracks, looking at his brother's face dropping.

"Congratulations, again." Fred walked away, pushing past his brother and out the door.

"They are Braxton Hicks, my dear." Madame Pomfrey waved her hand, helping you to your feet in the hospital wing.

Your hand rested on your bump "I'm sorry, what?"

After your little moment with Fred, your womb contracted and relaxed, disturbing your baby, causing it to lash out and kick against your tummy in discomfort from the contractions. You were frightened and sure you were going into labour and George rushed you to the hospital wing.

"Is she going to be okay?" George asked nervously.

"False labour pains" she replied "and if you go to the tournament tonight you'll be experiencing more of them!" she stressed.

"I can assure you I won't be doing backflips," you grumbled, "surely it will be safer for me if I sit down."

Madame Pomfrey held her nose up in the air, feeling slightly defeated "I can't stop you from going, but as long as you're sitting down and surrounded by a responsible group of friends, I don't see why you can't go."

"I'll take good care of her, I swear."

"Your brother couldn't!" Madame Pomfrey hissed "she's in this mess because of him, and I better not see you two back in here until that baby is ready!"

The loud band played along as everyone got seated high up in the stands, the girls on your left, and George on your right, you held onto his hand, still on edge from the sudden Braxton Hicks. You rested your head against his shoulder, Fred stared at the back of your head, his hands bunched into fists, regretting his decision to sit towards the back.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats, Fleur had failed, Krum evidently had too - now - it was between Cedric and Harry, the champion being a Hogwarts student was certain, but still, undecided whether that champion would belong to Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, like many others in the stands, your fingers and toes were crossed for Harry taking the win.

Out of nowhere, Cedric came stumbling out of the maze, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, his shirt sticking to him and his hair ruffled, scratches across his delicate face. He crouched down, clearly out of breath, but so startled and shaken up that he was shaking and green in the face.

The crowd jumped to their feet, cheering for Harry and Gryffindor, holding their red banners and waving their flags in the air whilst Syltherin scowled and hid their faces in their hands.

"We need to go and see if he's alright!" Angelina panicked hearing Cho shriek, the girls got on their feet and hurried down the stairs, running out to Cedric who was now on his hands and knees on the grass, throwing up.

"Well, are you coming!?" Angelina asked George, holding out her hand.

George looked at you, he didn't want to leave you on your own and you knew it.

"Go," you reassured him "I'll be okay."

You watched Cedric gain the courage to speak, you tried to lip read but he was too far away for you to even make out a single word, but whatever he had said panicked the cheering girls and proud lads because now they were muttering, whispering and all appeared to be frightened and anxious, no longer in the mood to celebrate Harry's win.

Katie who didn't leave you behind shot a scowl at Fred who continued to stare at you, she moved closer to you whilst Angelina and George hurried back, horror across their faces.

"What's happened?" you panicked.

"It's Harry" George frowned "The cup, it was a portkey and he's gone, Cedric said-"

Angelina nudged George with her elbow, glaring at him and shaking her head "not now, George."

"No, what is it?" you demanded.

Just as George announced the news that the dark lord had returned, you felt major discomfort and a dull ache in your back and lower abdomen, along with the pressure that increased in your pelvic, you gripped onto your bump and winced.

"George!" you panicked "It's happening!"

The father of your baby watched as you went into labour, Katie and Angelina helped you to your feet as George hurried over to Madame Pomfrey, everyone around you started to panic and gave you all the room you needed to evacuate safely back into the hospital wing - the one place you didn't want to end up twice in one day.

Leaving you behind, George stared up at Fred who was sat as still as a statute, if you weren't going to tell him, George had to, he wouldn't allow his brother to miss the birth of his child.

George stumbled over to his brother and shook him angrily "I don't want to bloody argue but listen to me!"

"George, I told you-"

"You're the dad, alright!" George yelled, "She's having your baby, you need to get to the hospital wing now!"

"What are you on about?" Fred argued, not believing the word "are you seriously-"

"Think back to the party when you played truth or dare! Think for Merlin's sake!"

Fred shut his mouth and suddenly, his world began to spin so fast his heart could've stopped.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

The memories suddenly flashed before his eyes, the sight of your naked body beneath his, the two of you climaxing, Fred pulling out and falling into your arms, only to wake up the next morning in an empty bed that smelled of your hair and perfume. It reminded Fred that he had forgotten to put a condom on, George wasn't lying, he is the father of your child.

Fred's eye widened and he bolted from his brother, shoving everyone aside and sprinting for his life to the hospital wing, no one and nothing could stop him now.

The doors of the hospital wing swung open, laying in your bed, tears rolled down your face as the contractions worsened, Madame Pomfrey urging you to keep pushing. Fred pulls out a chair and sits beside you, holding your hand, comforting you, kissing your forehead and encouraging you.

You opened your mouth to speak: you wanted to say sorry, to tell him you loved him, you wanted to explain everything all at once, but you were unable to - the pain increasing, causing you to scream out, tears rolling down your face.

"Almost there Y/N, you're crowning!" Madame Pomfrey announced.

Fred planted another kiss on your sweaty forehead "keep pushing sweetheart," he said softly "you're doing so bloody well!"

Within a few moments, the sound of your babies cries rang out through the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey placed the baby in your arms, encouraging you to sit back and relax - but you couldn't you still had the urge to push.

"I need to push again, "you cried, gritting your teeth "I'm not done!"

Madame Pomfrey's mouth dropped, causing her to take the baby from your arms and handing the newborn to Fred.

"What's going on?" Fred panicked, gripping onto his child, already feeling the protectiveness kick in.

"There's another baby..."

"She's having twins?!"

Fred held the elder newborn in his arms whilst the younger and smaller newborn rested in yours, both of them just like their father; a full head of ginger hair.

"They're yours." you croaked, your. throat sore from all the screaming and crying.

Fred smiled, tears forming in his eyes as he rocked the baby in his arms "I know, they look just like me... their hairs..."

"I'm so sorry, Freddie, I didn't tell you because... because I didn't know what to do, you're my best friend and I've had feelings for you since the beginning and I felt as if you didn't feel the same, I thought that me forcing a child upon you would... would ruin what we had."

"Of course I feel the same," Fred replied "I just didn't know if you did."

The two of you went silent for a moment, the twins sleeping -  they were exhausted from being brought into the world earlier than expected.

"Do you still feel the same?" you asked Fred, staring into his pride-filled brown eyes.

He nodded "Yeah, do you?"

Everything you had ever wanted finally arrived, the children you were carrying - so eager and excited to meet, and the man of your dreams, finally on the same page as you - who had been in love with you for all this time.

You looked down at the baby in your arms and then back up at Fred, "I do too."

"Shall we have a fresh start?" Fred smiled "As parents and that."

You broke out into a light laugh and smiled "I'd like that, Freddie. I'd like that a lot."

There was another silence, it felt as if the world was sleeping.

"So, when can we make another one?" Fred winked.

"When we graduate from Hogwarts!-"

"Next year?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't let me finish! We need to graduate, get stable jobs and have a house with enough room!"

"So next year then?" Fred smirked, still cradling the baby.

Your furrowed your brows, unsure whether or not he was bluffing.

"Okay then, since you're all confident, let's make a bet." You smirked back.

"If I win, we make another baby, if you win... we get married," Fred said softly as the baby opened his eyes and let out a cry.

"Alright," you agreed, taking your baby from Fred, trying to breastfeed "but what is your obsession with making another one?" you asked, "we've just had twins!"

Mr and Mrs Weasley were slowly approaching the hospital wing, George following not far behind.

"Yeah, which I've only just found out are mine!"

The hospital wing doors opened, Molly and Arthur standing in the doorway, staring at you, their son, and their grandchildren.

taglist: Taglist: @amourtentiaa @horrorxweasley @alwaysnforeverfangirl@reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @sebby-staan @onlyfreds@pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx @manuosorioh@cosmiccomicloverqueen @the-romanian-is-bae @fhhsposts@cavalinhox @purple-vodka-99 @simpforweasleys2@dracoismybabey @statellitespidey @xuminghaosworld @michael-loves-chickens @simpforweasleys2 @freddie-weaselbee @itsnottlilly

[debbiechanclub]

Know You Better Now (BTOOT sequel), Part 2

Probably not the best idea to drop this right after Extreme Rules, but I can’t wait because 😭 And that’s all I’m gonna say. Thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

Know You Better Now

Part: 2/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @heelchampbucks @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo

“Did you see the look on PAC’s face when he realized Alex broke up the pin? He was so-ho-ho piiiissed.”

Nick could barely finish speaking before he emitted a laugh that sounded more like an asthmatic wheeze, and everyone else joined in, the boisterous boom bouncing off the walls of The Elite locker room and making Alex’s ears ring. She’d never felt so out of place.

“He looked like an angry gremlin,” Karl piled on. He contorted his face and hands and made everyone guffaw and bark even louder. Alex rolled her eyes. Out of all of them, Karl annoyed her the most.

“Yeah, that was quick thinking, Alex,” Matt said. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”

He sent her a crooked, shit-eating grin. Had he not tacked on that last part, it might have been half a compliment. But he knew exactly what he was doing—and Alex did not have the patience for it.

“Us? Last time I checked, Kenny is the AEW Champion, not The Elite.”

The room went dead silent. Matt’s smirk vanished.

“Don’t act like you know anything about The Elite,” he bit. “You’ve been here all of two seconds. We were selling out the Tokyo Dome when you were still working bingo halls.”

“Whoa!” Kenny interjected. “Watch who the hell you’re talking to like that, Matt.”

The atmosphere went from shocked to tense; palpable. Matt’s jaw flexed, obviously embarrassed to have been put in his place in front of the boys. Alex smirked. He deserved it.

Kenny sighed into the quiet. “Alright, you know what? Everyone out.”

“What?” Gallows balked. “We gotta celebrate your big win, man—”

Don cut him off. “You heard what he said, everyone out!”

He herded them all toward the exit, and other than a few side-eyes and under-breath comments, they went without argument. It was the first time Alex had ever been thankful for Don to step in.

The door fell closed, and Alex and Kenny were left alone. His eyes were much softer than they’d been just a few seconds before.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’ll take a lot more than that for Matt to get to me.”

“I know, but he shouldn’t have said it at all. It was out of line.”

“It’s Matt. What do you expect?” she returned. It made Kenny purse his lips in disappointment.

“He’s not out to get you, Alex. He’s just protective of his friends.”

Her eyes darkened. “Is there a reason he thinks he needs to protect you from me?”

He breathed out in frustration. “Come on, that’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I wish you two would get along.”

Alex stubbornly crossed her arms and looked across the room. This wasn’t the first time he’d said that to her. She knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Hey.” Kenny gently gripped her shoulders, and she looked back up at him. “I want you to feel like you’re a part of the group, Alex. And I know right now you don’t,” he quickly added before she could interject. “But give it time. You’ve been at home working on getting healthy, and the boys just want to be sure that you’re a team player. Which… I’m pretty sure you proved you are tonight.”

She lightly sucked her teeth. “I did that for you, not—”

“I know,” softly interrupted. “But any of them would have done the same thing.”

Alex rocked back on her heels and turned her eyes down to her shoes. She understood where Kenny was coming from, one thousand percent. But she didn’t think she should have to prove herself to “the boys.” And truthfully… she didn’t want to be a part of The Elite, either.

But she also didn’t want to get into an argument with Kenny, so she just let it go. “Well, thank you for putting Matt in his place,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew herself close to him. “I’ll do my best to get along with him so long as he’s not an ass to me.”

“That’s all I want,” Kenny returned, and he placed a kiss on her lips that was perhaps meant to be short and sweet, but neither of them pulled away. He brought his hands to either side of her face, and she pressed her fingers into his back as she lightly sucked on his bottom lip. He smirked against her mouth. “You want to get in the shower with me?”

She pecked his lips again. “No.”

He pulled back in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because. I look way too good right now to ruin it.”

He flashed a crooked grin. She already knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Fine. I’ll just ruin it when we get home.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had honestly hoped Kenny would ruin it when they got home. But unfortunately, they didn’t go home alone; Matt, Nick, and Don went with them. At least the Good Brothers had decided they’d rather go drink at the hotel bar.

“So, have you officially moved in yet, Alex?”

Nick smirked at her from across the kitchen island, his mouth full of pizza. They’d ordered some “late night celebratory pies,” as Kenny had put it, but Alex didn’t have much of an appetite. She didn’t dignify Nick with a response either, instead just pursing her lips and taking a sip of the red wine she’d poured herself. As if he wouldn’t have already known if she’d officially moved in; he was one of Kenny’s best friends.

“Shit, I forget that she doesn’t ‘officially’ live here,” Kenny commented, making air quotes around the word. “It already feels like you do. Isn’t most of your stuff here?”

“Most of my clothes are,” she answered. “But I still have an entire house full of stuff in Virginia.”

“Wasn’t your cousin interested in potentially buying from you?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose. She asked me if I was thinking about selling, but we haven’t discussed it.”

“Well… maybe you should.”

He sent her a grin. She chewed the inside of her lip. “Maybe,” she returned, and took another sip of wine.

“Speaking of official,” Don segued. “Is Alex officially with us now?”

Alex stiffened. She didn’t at all appreciate that Don had spoken as if she wasn’t standing right there. But she couldn’t really answer him, either.

“Come on, why wouldn’t she be?” Kenny returned.

“Because tonight was the first time she’s been on AEW programming in what—nine months?” He fixed Alex with his beady eyes and finally addressed her directly. “People still think of you as part of Best Friends. And even though you broke up that pin in Kenny’s interest, the fact of the matter is that you technically helped Orange, too.”

“What?” Kenny let out a loud, disbelieving laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Don! She would have done the exact same thing if it had been Orange going for the pin instead of PAC.”

“Would she?” Matt challenged. He glanced at Alex. “Would you?”

Kenny’s eyes widened at him. “Really, Matt?” he charged—but Alex spoke up.

“No, if they’re so concerned about it, then I’ll tell them.” She leaned forward on the island and looked Matt dead in the eye. “Of course I would have done the exact same thing if it had been Orange going for the pin instead of PAC. And you know why? Because I was out there in Kenny’s corner tonight, and tonight was the first time in months that I’ve seen or even spoken to Orange or any of the others. So no, I’m not a part of Best Friends anymore.”

It hurt to finally say that out loud; but it wasn’t anything Alex hadn’t already known deep down. She’d known it as soon as Kris had popped out of that claw machine a month ago… maybe even sooner. And their behavior toward her that night—Trent’s behavior—had only proven it.

Kenny wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a kiss on the side of her head. Matt, meanwhile, said nothing. It seemed she’d finally shut him up—for now.

Don nodded. “That’s all I need to hear.”

Alex shifted. Somehow, she doubted that.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Nick interjected. “Do you guys have any ice cream?”

“Jesus, Nick,” Matt breathed; but Kenny perked up.

“We do, actually. Alex has turned me onto Blue Bell.” He started for the freezer. “Do you want some, baby? We still have mint chocolate chip.”

Alex shook her head. “No. I’m actually gonna head upstairs; I’m exhausted.”

Part of her knew that, by going to bed, she was only inviting them to talk about her more. But she didn’t care. Matt could spew whatever bullshit he wanted; Kenny knew where she stood, and that was all that mattered.

He nodded. “Okay. I’m honestly not far behind you.”

She put her wine glass in the sink and gave him a kiss on the way out of the kitchen. Her legs were tired as she climbed the stairs to their bedroom. Our bedroom, she realized she thought of it as, not Kenny’s bedroom. She wasn’t sure when she’d made that switch, but she was hyper-aware of it now after Kenny’s comment just a few minutes before. But just the thought of selling her house stressed her out; she had enough on her plate as it was, and she didn’t want to give any of it any more of her energy for the rest of the night—

Beep-beep!

But she got a text just as she crossed into the bedroom. She sighed and pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans—and stopped when she saw the screen.

It was from Trent.

I’m sorry about what I said tonight. I just didn’t know how to react.

Alex’s brow lowered as she read the message. She knew Trent, and something in her gut told her that he hadn’t sent that on his own. No; Kris had probably beat him over the head until he’d relented. He would have been better off not sending anything at all.

She purposefully opened the text so that he would get the “read” notification, and then she locked her phone, tossed it onto the bed, and went into the bathroom to do her nighttime routine. If there was one thing she definitely would not give any more of her energy to, it was that.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Dynamite following Double Or Nothing wasn’t until Friday, so Alex had nearly an entire week to mentally prepare herself. She needed the extra time. Because, in the interest of “publicly clearing up any confusion” about where her loyalties lied, Don had booked her a sit-down interview with Excalibur.

She’d been furious when he’d told her. So had Kenny—he’d set it up behind both their backs. But of course, Don had talked him down and convinced him that it was “the right move.” Afterward, Kenny had profusely apologized to her; but she’d just told him to forget it. She’d do the damn interview. She wanted to speak her mind.

But now that she was sitting across from Excalibur in one of the backstage areas at Daily’s Place, she felt like she might vomit.

He spoke to the camera as he opened up the interview. “I’m sitting here with Alex Hawthorne, who made a surprise return after a nine-month absence at Double Or Nothing this past Sunday… and before we get into the interview, Alex, I just want to say welcome back. You were gone rehabbing a shoulder injury, and you’ve clearly come back in fighting shape. I think we all did a double-take when you walked out with Kenny Omega on Sunday.”

Alex felt herself relax a bit. It felt good to be acknowledged. She hadn’t felt that in a while. “Thank you, Excalibur, I appreciate that. It feels good to be back, and I have come back in fighting shape—not just physically, but mentally, as well. When I found out that my shoulder needed surgery, it was a bitter pill to swallow. And I’m not gonna lie; I struggled with it at first. But I distinctly remember waking up in that post-op room after surgery, and I realized right then and there that I could either let this injury drag me down, or I could use it as an opportunity to come back even better than before. And I promise you—and the entire AEW women’s division—that this isn’t the same Alex Hawthorne who competed in that ring nine months ago.”

Excalibur nodded. “Which begs the question: when can we expect you back in the ring?”

She breathed out. “Soon,” she nodded, her tone determined. “I still have some work to do, but it’ll be soon.”

“And we all look forward to it,” he said. “But you mentioned that you’re not the same Alex Hawthorne you were nine months ago. We’re used to seeing you at ringside in support of Best Friends… however, you returned in Kenny Omega’s corner for the AEW World Championship match at Double or Nothing, a match that also included Orange Cassidy. Is it safe to say that this new and improved Alex Hawthorne has moved on from Best Friends?”

Alex’s heart jumped into her throat. There it was, the million-dollar question, the reason for this entire interview, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think Don had fed that line directly to Excalibur. But he didn’t like Don any more than she did—and she needed to give an answer. So, she did.

“It’s safe to say that, yeah.”

Her stomach churned and she looked down at her hands in her lap. It was out there now. She couldn’t take it back.

“Well, I have to ask,” Excalibur started, and she flicked her eyes back up at him. “You interfered in the match on Sunday and most likely prevented PAC from winning the AEW World Championship. But you also prevented Orange from taking the pin. Is there no part of you that did that for him?”

Alex’s brow lowered. First Don, and now this? Why was everyone so confused about her motive? “No. I did that for Ken—”

“Who cares who ya did it for!”

She was abruptly cut off by an angry, distinctly accented voice, and then PAC unexpectedly stalked into the interview area. He fixed Alex with a wild-eyed glare. “It’s like Excalibur said… you cost me the AEW World Championship.”

Alex leaned away from him in her chair as he moved closer. The entire sight of him was jarring, that ubiquitous scowl of his contorting his face, his dark, wet hair dripping water down his bare chest. She looked him over in confusion. Why was he already in his gear, ready to go? He and Penta had a match that night against the Young Bucks, but the show didn’t start for another two hours.

Excalibur tried to intervene. “PAC, we’re doing an interview here—”

But PAC just talked over him. “I know you’ve been gone a long time, Alex. And I have to admit, you do look good. So, here’s a bit of advice: instead of interfering in his matches, why don’t ya stick to being Kenny Omega’s arm candy.”

Alex’s eyes darkened. Suddenly, all her surprise turned to anger. “Arm candy?”

“You heard me,” he spat.

“Do you even own regular clothes? Or do you just live in your gear dripping wet like you emerged from the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Hey, PAC!”

Another person interrupted then, and Alex and PAC both looked over to find the Young Bucks, Brandon Cutler, and the Good Brothers stalking toward them. But it wasn’t just them. They had Rey Fenix—and it looked like he’d already been jumped.

Matt smirked. “Did you lose something?”

PAC growled in his throat. He charged toward them—but they dumped Fenix to the floor and retreated, laughing as they did. Nick held up his hands. “We’re saving our energy for the match tonight!”

PAC let them go, choosing instead to help his friend. Meanwhile, Alex jumped up and ran after them—the interview was over.

“Hey!” They all turned to look back at her, but her focus was zeroed in on Matt. This was his doing, she knew it. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

He scoffed. “To send a message, obviously. Come on, Alex… I thought you were with us now?”

He flashed another crooked smirk, and then they all started off again, patting each other on the back and hyping the Bucks up for the match that night. And Alex just stood and watched them go, all the while realizing that she was with them now—and she’d all but said it for the entire world to hear.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You ready to head home?”

Alex looked up at Kenny, re-emerging from her thoughts. She nodded. “Please.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile and held out his hand, and she took it and let him pull her up and lead her out of the locker room. It was the end of the night, and she’d been ready to head home before a single match had even been contested.

To her great surprise, Dynamite had started off by airing the footage of her interview. Alex had barely been able to watch, knowing what was coming, what she’d said. But when it was all said and done, it didn’t even feel like it was about her anymore. The interview had led right into the tag match between the Young Bucks and PAC and Penta—the story became the Super Elite’s attack on Fenix, not her return. And Alex wasn’t sure if she was more relieved that they’d distracted from the fact that she’d basically disowned Best Friends, or more angered that they’d taken away from everything else she’d said.

“I am ready to just relax and spend the weekend alone with you,” Kenny said as they walked down the hall. He grinned at her. “I told everyone to lose my number.”

Alex returned his smile, and Kenny lifted the back of her hand to his lips; but she barely noticed as he kissed her. She was too distracted by the group of people who had appeared in the corridor.

Best Friends. All of them. And it didn’t take long for Trent to say something.

“Where’re you going, Alex? Kris has a Dark match. Oh, wait—that’s right. You’ve moved on from us.”

“Dude,” Kris chastised and lightly smacked his shoulder. “Don’t.”

Kenny scoffed. “I’d listen to your alien friend, Trent.”

“No one was talking to you,” Orange returned.

Kenny narrowed his eyes at him. Alex squeezed his hand in protest; the last thing she needed was for him to go on one of his power trips. Thankfully, he let it go.

“I’ve already taken care of you, so I won’t embarrass you in front of your friends,” he dismissed. “Come on,” he said, and he started to pull Alex past them; but Trent just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Was that you giving that interview? Or were Kenny and Don pulling the strings on your mouth?”

“Fuck, Greg,” Chuck breathed—but Alex spoke over him.

“Was that you who sent that text Sunday night, or did one of them make you send it?”

She glared a hole through Trent, unwavering and angry, waiting for him to say something for himself. Anything. But he just bit down on his jaw, silent. Alex scoffed. It was just as she’d suspected.

“What text?” Kenny asked in confusion. Alex didn’t take her eyes off Trent as she answered.

“Trent sent me a text after Double Or Nothing apologizing for being a dick to me before your match. He said he ‘just didn’t know how to react’ to seeing me.”

“I didn’t know how to react,” Trent fired back.

“Oh, so it was just the apology that was bullshit, then.”

He breathed out and looked stubbornly away, nothing to say again. And as she continued to stare at him, Alex realized that she wasn’t surprised or even hurt by his reaction. Instead, she was vindicated in everything she’d been feeling.

Her gaze sharpened. “But since you asked so nicely; yeah, that was me giving that interview, one hundred percent. And you have no room to be angry about it, Trent, because whether you want to admit it or not, you all moved on from me months ago.”

Chuck’s brow furrowed in confusion. In hurt. “What? Alex—”

“Save it,” Kenny cut him off. “Good luck in your match, Kris,” he added, and then he tugged on Alex’s hand, and she turned and went with him, ignoring the way her sinuses burned.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 26

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: no smut this time, just bucky meeting the family

NEXT CHAPTER

Her mother pulled Bucky into the house. She lived exactly where he’d expect her to live in, a dark academia sort of environment in shades of green, burgundy and dark browns. The walls were filled with shelves containing seas and seas of books and little memorabilia. There were photos of the family on the walls and Bucky noticed the little one right by the staircase of a young girl in a periwinkle dress sat on the beach with a bright smile whom he was absolutely certain was his Y/N. The woman continued to lead them until what he guessed was the living room where the fireplace was on and two kids were running around.

Bucky stood behind with Y/N as her mother made haste towards the drinks’ trolley where Y/N was almost sure the same watered down bottle her brother Anthony had constantly stolen from as a teenager still stood. They were lucky enough not to still have been noticed, her family having an weirdly tradition of not allowing anyone in the living area until they had a drink in hand. Of course she knew why, her family made so many questions both appropriate and inappropriate you’d have to be positively inebriated to deal with it. 

     - Everyone... - Lucy, Y/N’s mother, handed Bucky a burgundy coloured liquid before pulling him inside the living room. - Don’t be shy, Bucky. Everyone, this is Bucky, he’s Y/N’s boyfriend. 

     - I thought he’d be smaller. - a man got up from the dark burgundy couch, walking up to Bucky with an extended hand towards him. Bucky looked at his hand then at his own, before switching to shake it with his flesh arm rather than the metal aberration he’d covered with a glove. - Had a nice flight? Little bean here said she booked first flight tickets even though I told her it’s ...

    - A waste of money, I know dad. - Y/N interrupted. 

    - It was nicer than I expected, sir. - Bucky said yet Y/N could see that little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. - Your daughter made it all the better.

    - Hope she didn’t bother you with leitmotifs. - another man who looked just around Y/N’s age piped up.

     - Colin, don’t even say that word, it might get her started. - a girl, blonde hair dressed in a baby blue dress added. - Oh wow, you’re athletic.

     - C’mon El, you promised to help me tease Y/N about her first serious boyfriend. - Colin wrapped his arms around Y/N but she merely playfully slapped his chest. - Look at you, the last Y/L/N sibling to introduce someone to the family. We were gonna buy you a cake but mum said no.

    - Colin Y/L/N, leave your sister be. - Lucy slapped her son’s head. - We are very happy that Y/N and Bucky are here. 

   - She’s happy there’s a chance you might give her grandchildren. - Colin whispered before adopting that grin that as children made Y/N want to throw a pillow at him.

   - Colin, I said to leave your sister be. - Lucy wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter. - That is not the reason I’m happy you’re dating. Me and your father were just afraid that you would be a bit lonely in New York.

   - Because you have no friends. - Eloise added.

   - Eloise, leave your sister be. She has plenty of friends. - their father added, not moving from his chair where he had returned to read the paper. 

   - Where is your sister? She should be here to meet Bucky.

   - Claire is busy with her husband convincing my husband to get me to have a rat-like creature they call a baby. - Eloise sat down on the other couch, legs crossed over each other. - Do you want a baby, Bucky?

   - Eloise! - Y/N yelled out of shame. Now she understood why her mother looked so dead whenever she had to go shopping with 4 children at 10 AM. She was clearly wrong to think her siblings would act like regular human beings in front of a guest, they barely acted like regular human beings on a regular basis. - We should go put the bags in my bedroom.

   - No, wait, beanie. CLAIRE! CLAIRE COME SAY HI TO YOUR SISTER AND BUCKY! - Y/N’s mother rushed to the kitchen, yelling out whom he guessed was the name of Y/N’s last sibling. Out of the kitchen and into the living room came a girl dressed in the same dress as Eloise except it was purple, holding a bundle of blankets against her chest. 

  - Aw, let me hold Sophie. - Y/N dropped her bags to meet her sister who handled her the baby. Bucky inspected the scene, watching as her embarrassed facade quickly changed into one of wonder as she looked at her niece. - Look at you, you’re so cute, Miss Sophie, yes you are. 

  - Claire, say hi to Bucky.

  - Why is he so tall? - she shook his hand. - I thought you’d be smaller with that nickname.

Is this was Steve felt like after the serum? Bucky had never stopped to consider that maybe his nickname sounded like a name you’d give a short guy, to be honest, he doesn’t even remember how it came to be, he just remembered his mum calling it and it sticking. However, he did have to admit that he enjoyed seeing everyone’s confused look once they met him as if he was the tallest man alive when he was barely taller than Y/N’s brother. 

    - Conor, Jack come meet Bucky too. - Y/N’s mum held two men by the arm who looked as lost in the family reunion as Bucky did. - Conor’s Eloise’s husband and Jack’s Claire’s. 

    - Okay. - Y/N interrupted before anyone else told her boyfriend he was too tall. Handing Sophie back to her sister, she held Bucky’s hand. - We are going to put the bags upstairs and take the coats off and we’ll return. 

Y/N knew her family way too well. She had been here when Claire brought Jack home for the first time and her father questioned him about a notorious case followed by Colin asking him if he needed earbuds for Claire’s snoring. She had also been there when Conor and all of Colin’s girlfriends so she knew when it was time to run away with Bucky from her very devoted and very curious family who had already decided to have the baby conversation with him before she had even mention it.

Bucky looked at the photos that were scattered on the staircases’ wall. He could always pinpoint where Y/N was, normally in the front with those beautiful, shining eyes. He noticed one particular photo of Y/N alone against a dark blue background in her graduation gown holding her diploma, posing like a beauty queen. He made a note to sneak a photo of it once she wasn’t looking.

She led him into her bedroom. It was a rather small one in tones of white and beige with a double bed. The walls were clean rather than one with a bookcase of dark wood filled with books, trophies and little frames of photos of her as a kid. Her bed had a small white lamb laying on it with some heart shaped pillows and a knitted beige blanket. 

     - Is that you? - Bucky rushed to the shelf to grab a photo of Y/N as a toddler dressed as a ballerina holding a golden medal.

    - Yeah. My grandmother was a prima ballerina so she made all of us do ballet which came quite in handy when I was in Phantom. - she put her coat on the hook on the door. - Sorry about my mum, and my dad and my siblings. I should already apologise for their husbands and the toddlers you haven’t met yet since they’re out with Grandma Louis who I’m also sorry for. 

     - That’s fine. I think they don’t hate me much.

    - It’s better than when Colin introduced Kate, mum was so upset she didn’t speak to her. I would say they love you. 

     - So which one is the oldest? Is there an hierarchy I should know about?

     - I’m the oldest then Colin, Claire and finally Eloise. Eloise got married first and then Claire and Colin is living la vie boheme. 

     - And you? - he wrapped his arms around her waist

    - I’m the actress. Once Aunt Petunia or Grandma Louis gets here you’ll listen to the “the debate team champion becomes an actress kissing all those men and she’s still single” discussion. I also apologise for that in advance. 

    - Well but you are not single anymore. - Bucky leaned down to kiss her. - And I will allow you to parade me as your boyfriend. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. 

    - Ah yes, my three time three-time boxing champion boyfriend. 

    - You’re not gonna drop that, aren’t you?

    - What? It’s very alluring, gets me going.

    - Is that why you gave me an handjob at the airport, princess? - he leaned down to whisper against her ear. She felt goosebumps raise up her skin, mouth drying up as she tried to find the words. - You better have thick walls, princess. 

   - Beanie ... - her mother knocked on the door, pushing the door slightly open and sticking her head in. - We were wondering if Bucky ate meat. We bought this meat that’s not really meat and it’s vegan. I asked some of my colleagues at work to help me cook it and we made some but we can make more if Bucky wants some.

    - No, Mrs. I’m okay with anything, it’s fine. 

    - Non sense. Y/N tell Bucky he can pick what to eat. You’re American right? I’m making some chicken nuggets for the kids and Colin, I could make you some if you’d like. 

    - Mum, that’s stereotypical. 

   - Nonsense, beanie. What do you want to eat, Bucky?

   - I’ll eat whatever Y/N does, m’am. - he tried to hide the little grin as Y/N stood by his side still processing what Bucky had just said to her. - It’s fine, m’am, really. I don’t want to be a bother, I’m so grateful you and your family are okay with having me for Christmas. 

Lucy merely smiled at him as a way of saying it was no problem. Y/N knew her family, they adored to embarrass their children in front of their partners, lovers, and friends but they would adore whoever their children adored as if they belonged to the family since the dawning of time. The actress rose her head to look at her boyfriend, staring at the door like a fading vision on the desert, relaxed muscles and expression. Her hold on his hand strengthened as her head laid against his shoulder, laying a small kiss on the fabric of his shirt.

     - Do you want to go downstairs? We can stay here for a few minutes before dinner. 

     - Yeah, princess. - he snapped himself out of his state, smiling down at his caring girlfriend before following her down the stairs.

Her family had a lot of photos, some on big frames on the wall and other small ones in coffee tables and other surfaces. He couldn’t help but look at them, watching Y/N through the ages and wondering how she was. She always had that look, that inner shyness and bright eyed appearance. Most photos were school photos with that dark blue background followed by a few backstage photos of her in elaborate stage makeup and costumes. Bucky wanted a photo of her, any photo of her, to have in his wallet. Not that he would forget what she looked like, he could never forget it but he wanted to. He wanted to look at her face whenever he paid for his coffee, show people when they asked about her, he guessed he wanted to have the same pride in showing his girlfriend his father had about showing his mother. He wanted a suburban existence, no more Winter Soldier, no more Avengers, just James Barnes. Yet, he also knew he did not deserve that. No, he had taken that structure from so many people he didn’t deserve it. 

Once in the living room, there were more people, notably two kids running around the Christmas tree and two women sat by the beautifully placed table. He felt shy, not knowing exactly what to say, barely knowing these people. 

    - Ah, let me look at you. - one of the woman from the table got up and walked towards them. Bucky thought none of it, thinking it to be directed towards Y/N until the woman took him by surprise by cupping his face. - You’re just gorgeous. Nice eyes, strong features. 

     - Aunt Petunia! - Y/N took her aunt’s hands away from Bucky’s face. - Please. 

     - You know what they say about men with strong features, great lovers, great breeders.

     - Oh my god. - that’s it, she was no longer going to have a boyfriend once she got back to New York. - Bucky, this is my aunt Petunia. 

     - Nice to meet you m’am. - Bucky extended his hand to her but the woman merely pushed him towards the table.

     - I thought she was kidding when she said she was bringing someone home yet here you are. - she led both of them to side by side seats on the table. - So, Bucky have you meet Grandma Louis?

    - I’m afraid not. 

    - Look ma, Y/N brought a boyfriend home. 

   - Can we please not treat this like a world limited event?

   - Nope. - Colin sat next to Y/N. - I had a bet with Eloise you’d date a 50 year old librarian and I lost which is unfair because 100 year old soldier is almost the same. 

   - It’s not and you know it. - Eloise argued from the other side of the table. - How’s the movie, Y/N? 

   - It’s ... good. - she forced a smile, not wanting to show the same family who always wondered why unlike every of her siblings she, the debate captain and champion, had turned down the option to do Law and instead pursued an acting career. Did acting made her happy? Yes. Did the movie made her happy? No. 

   - She’s the best actress I have ever met and seen. - Bucky drew invisible circles over her palm. - Everyone’s always speechless during her takes. 

   - That’s my beanie, always the best at whatever she does. - Y/N’s father added. - Besides, one of us has to not be a lawyer. We’re starting to be known as the lawyer family. 

   - So Bucky, are you enjoying London? Have you ever been? - Claire asked while putting the bibs on her two toddlers who were still happily playing with toy cars on the table.

   - Long time ago, it’s a bit different now. 

   - Y/N should take you to see the tree in Trafalgar, it’s absolutely stunning. - Lucy added. - It’s where her father purposed. 

   - It’s where everyone purposed in this family. We need a new tradition. - Colin rolled his eyes. 

   - If it were up to you, you’d purpose in a McDonalds after coming from the pub. 

   - Shut up, Eloise. 

Bucky merely kept to himself during the dinner, replying to the questions that were thrown his way and laughing at the jokes. There was the odd questions every once and then which Y/N would normally reply to followed by telling him she was sorry which he found adorable. Normally it was him who was defensive over her, too defensive even and to see her take on the role warmed his heart. The dinner ran smoothly and soon everyone was sat on the couch by the fireplace. She was by his side, head on his shoulder as a It’s a Wonderful Life played on the television. 

The night kept going in and in until everyone decided to climb up to their respective bedrooms. Y/N turned on the heating the moment she came in, stripping onto her own cozy red pyjamas while Bucky kept inspecting her room. She had a bunch of books and programs from various West End musicals as well as a few bits of Star Wars memorabilia scattered on the shelves and a Phantom of the Opera music box on her desk. What caught his attention was the tiny miniature of a white picked fence house on her bedside table. Had she been an avid miniature collector and he didn’t know about it?

    - Hey, what’s this? - he pointed at the little house.

    - Oh ... that.

    - Is it a sore topic? I’m sorry princess, I didn’t mean to ...

    - It’s okay, Bucky. - she smiled. - It’s just a silly thing from when I was a kid. I told my mum I wanted to marry Luke Skywalker and move into a white picket fence home and she bought me it. Then I just wanted the house as I grew up but hey I live in SoHo, the best I can do is get another one of those

   - You want a white picket fence house?

   - It’s silly. - she hide her head as a familiar heat climbed up to her cheeks. Bucky placed the miniature back where it was, walking up to her. 

   - It’s not silly. I like picket white fence houses too, princess.

   - You do?

   - Yeah. One of my cousins had one when I was a kid and I always envisioned one for myself. 

  - Did you? 

  - Yeah and then I met you and I thought screw the home, as long as I get to come home everyday to you we could be living in a cardboard home but if you want a white picked fence house than I’ll give you one.

  - Buck ...

  - I’m not kidding. - he smiled at her. - We’ll live wherever you’d like and every single day we’ll come back home to each other and I will pretend I’m not tired so I can stay up and look at you smiling at those TV show reruns you like so much.

  - You like them too. - she added. 

  - Maybe but until then ... - he walked up to his bag removing an worn out big navy blue box. - You can have this. 

taglist: @disasterbii​​ @lookiamtrying​​ @buckysteveloki-me​​ @americasass81​​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​​ @lostinthebeans​​ @mariahthelioness29​​ @buckyandsebastian​​ @peaches-roses-sins​​ @theadorasabditory​​ @sipsteacasually​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​ @booktease21​​ @noiralei​​ @learisa​​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​​ @uglipotata72829​​ @naturalthrone22​​ @husherstan​​ @mandiiblanche​​ @vicmc624​​ @newyorkgoddess​​ @itsallyscorner​​ @chipilerendi​​ @emzd34​​ @writerwrites​​ @bluevxnus​​ @that-girl-named-alex​​ @captnrogers​​ @nsfwsebbie​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​

[morganas-pendragons]

Willow | Din Djarin

life is a willow and it bent right to your wind.. 

long story short | no body, no crime | song #3: willow 

this got away from me, i am not sorry 

tags: @snippy-tano​ / @mackstrut​ / @majorshiraharu​ / @sacred-things​ / @wonderlandgabby​ / @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ / @roseofalderaan​ 

set during chapter 14

Din. 

His name still rolls around inside your head like the waves of a storm building over the ocean. It’s intoxicating. Overwhelming. He had bared himself, soul and all, for you to know the most intimate details of a life that no one else has had the privilege to know. 

But someone can only bend so far before they snap. 

Life is a willow and it bent right to your wind..

It should have been easy. You and Din had brought Grogu from Corvus to Tython so the baby could use the Force Conduit to call out to any of the remaining Jedi left in the galaxy. It was supposed to be a means that would further lead him to his people. 

And lead him further away from you and the man he called his father. 

  “What’s he doing on the magic rock?” Din questions skeptically.  

  “Entering a meditative state, you di’kut.” You reply, eyeing The Mandalorian who stands at your side as you both eye your child. Grogu was young in terms of his species. You knew that. Despite his limited experience with formal training during his time at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, his reach to the other remaining Jedi was remarkable. The field he’d created was impenetrable. You and Din couldn’t get through it. “It’s a conduit. A conduit that’s powerful, Din. We can’t get through it.” 

  “You can’t either?” Din asks. “You’re-You’re a Jedi too, you should be able to get through!” 

The desperation in his voice is palpable. Seeing Grogu in the midst of the act is forcing Din to realize just who his son is - how powerful he is, and how he is so far out of his depth right now - and that, eventually, he will lose him too. Just as he’s lost everyone else, and will inevitably lose you. 

  “Grogu.” 

It’s so hard not to fall in love with the man when he holds that beskar ball the baby loves to play with up between two fingers and gently calls out his name. Grogu has made it abundantly clear that he is a daddy’s boy and thus never fails to make his father laugh with the response he gives to his name. 

You’re too busy focusing on the fact that he made Din laugh to hear anything else. 

Din won’t lose you today. Not tomorrow, but someday. Men like Din Djarin don’t get happy endings, no matter how badly they want them. 

And as you sit there tucked into his side, head tilted upward towards a helmeted face that’s most likely beaming beneath the mask, you realize that this is where you’d like to spend the rest of your life. 

You and him. Him, when you had no one else. Sounds like the ideal happy ending. 

  “Until he’s done communicating to the other Jedi,” You reach down to the belt at your waist and remove one saber, then two, and ignite both blades as you peer over the side of the hill. “We have to protect the child.” 

The two of you take off down the hill. 

The more that you say, the less I know Wherever you stray, I follow

Over the treeline, Slave One lands in the clearing with Boba Fett and Fennec Shand on board. 

I’m begging for you to take my hand 

Wreck my plans 

That’s my man 

Din yanks you behind one of the largest boulders as a series of shots rings out. It’s most definitely the man who had landed the ship over the hill, and he seems interested in Din. “I’ve been tracking you, Mandalorian.” He calls out, unaware of your presence as Din clamps his hand down harder on your mouth. 

  “Are you Jedi?” 

  “Are you kidding me?” You seethe through your Bond -which is always fun because Din is never expecting it - eyes narrowing in annoyance as you tilt your head upward to see if you can glance a peek at the newcomer. “Does everyone look Jedi to you?” 

The minute Din lets go of you, the newcomer removes his hood and you are greeted with a face you’ve seen multiple times before in your dreams from when you were younger: The same face that over a million soldiers for the Grand Army of the Republic had shared. 

  “Boba Fett?” 

That definitely catches the newcomer off guard. You’d only seen him in passing - only each other’s faces, never names -  since the last time you’d been on Tatooine, well before you’d met Din, but you had failed to mention to the Mandalorian that you had been part of the reason that Boba Fett had lost his armor to begin with. 

  “You.” 

***

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneakin' in

You’d give Boba Fett credit for his ingenuity. You had known upon meeting him that he was a talented bounty hunter, but he was lethal. You’d never in a million years anticipated him being so deadly in the face of storm troopers. 

Then again. He was a clone. 

As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring But there was one prize I'd cheat to win

  “If you were given the option, what would you cheat to win? What would be your prize for falling in love with him?” Cara had asked you idly when the two of you had returned to Nevarro. 

  “The best one. The one I already have.” You had murmured in reply. “His heart.” 

  “Din!” You yelled. The Mandalorian’s head snapped into your direction, wild and alert, as you rolled in front of him and held your sabers in an X formation. “Sword and shield!”

Din removes the second blaster from the holster against his thigh, and together the two of you mirror one of the very movements you had perfected with your clone troopers during The Clone War. You had been young.. but you remembered. 

The more that you say, the less I know Wherever you stray, I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand

When it’s evident that Boba and Fennec have control of the valley in which the Stormtroopers are trying to overrun them on, the two of you sprint back up the hill hand in hand to try and retrieve your child. 

Grogu is still in contact. The sight of him so at ease as he reaches out to the ends of the galaxy in search of another Jedi - one that is not you, because the person acting as his other parent cannot be the one to warn him against attachments - makes your heart ache because that ease is what he should know. What he should’ve been able to live on a world where the Empire wouldn’t try to hunt him down and slaughter him for simply being alive. 

Wreck my plans, that's my man You know that my train could take you home Anywhere else is hollow I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans, that's my man

  “Sarad!” Din yells. “It has to be you! I-I can’t-” The tips of his boots dig into the ground as he pushes himself forward, lifting each foot as he does, because Din is simply desperate enough to fight a cosmic stone. “I can’t-hold onto-him!” 

Life is a willow and it bent right to your wind... 

They count me out time and time again

You trudge forward. It’s so difficult to fight this, but you do. You trudge forward despite the pain, despite the gnawing fear that you won't be strong enough to retrieve your son, and with a bloodcurdling scream you push your hands through the field. 

Your fingers touch his robes before you’re thrown backwards and land right on top of Din. 

Life was a willow, and it bent right to your wind

  “Sarad, please.” Din’s hands cradle your cheeks as your vision swims in and out, and your head is aching and you want to sleep but your child is in danger, the man you love is in danger, you cannot just- 

  “I’m here.” You murmur, pressing your aching forehead against that of his helmet as he slowly hoists you to his feet. “Life hasn’t broken me yet.” 

He’s so kriffing proud underneath the stupid beskar. Din only hopes you can feel it through the Force. 

Head dried with blood, you throw your hair over your shoulder and cast a look down into the valley. One saber ignites, and then two. 

Din watches your back as you both retreat back down the hill. What you both remain ignorant to is that the moment you turn around, Grogu disengages and the field dissipates. 

Your son lays his weary head to rest. 

*** 

Wait for the signal, and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars

Your heart aches for him. The minute that things seem like they’re starting to go right, a single shot rings clear from the sky and blows The Razor Crest to kingdom come. Your home. Grogu’s home. Din’s home. 

The Mandalorian doesn't say a word. He just stands there and breathes in the wake of the destruction. 

  “The kid!” 

You, Din and Fennec turn around and take off back up the hill to try and reach Grogu before whoever is coming above him. There are four of them - robotic in nature - and they are coming in fast. 

  “DIN!” 

Lungs heaving, blood pumping, heart pounding, your feet slam against the Earth as you use the Force to launch yourself in the direction of the baby-- only for him to be taken into the arms of the dark trooper as you make a less then graceful landing. 

Your knees give out beneath you as your face nearly collides with the rock beneath your hands. Gravel bites into your palms. You don’t care. 

They took your son.  

The more that you say, the less I know Wherever you stray, I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand

  “Grogu.” You whisper. Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you wish away the overwhelming feeling of tears that pool in your eyes - you’ve gotten alot more used to heartbreak since the genocide of the Jedi - and focus on the thrumming Force signature of the baby. “Stay safe, ad’ika.” 

You don’t dare tell Din the emotions that radiate from his tiny form. It’s not fear. It’s anger. 

When all is said and done, the three of you find yourself back in the ashes of The Razor Crests remains. Din sifts through until he comes up with an object, tiny and silver in nature, and you swear your heart drops into your stomach when he pockets it. Grogu’s ball. 

  “They took your son, Jedi.” Fennec murmurs, almost as if she can feel the way you are trying so hard to keep yourself composed, and lays a hand on your shoulder. It’s not the comfort you’d take from the man you love but it is more then enough. “You are allowed to grieve.” 

Wreck my plans, that's my man You know that my train could take you home Anywhere else is hollow

As Din talks with Boba and Fennec, you disappear over the hill back in the direction of the rock and ignite your sabers. Jedi are not supposed to deal with their anger this way. You don't care. 

They took your son. 

The first one goes flying down the hill by control of your capable hand, arcing through a cluster of trees at its base until there is nothing left but smoldering limbs. 

You don’t care. 

They took your son. The son of you and Din. His son. 

I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans, that's my man

  “You abandoned me.” You whisper. When no one replies, you say it just a little bit louder and with alot more force- “YOU ABANDONED ME! After everything I did, after all I lost-” Images of your final days in the Jedi Temple flash before your eyes like the images of a holodrama played out frame by frame as you are forced to watch clones murder your teachers, your friends, your family..  

A hand comes up to clasp your own, stained in blood. 

A scream echoes down a empty hall. A gun fires. Clones shout orders at one another. 

A bloodied body collapses at your feet, lightsaber rolling from limp fingers. 

These images flood your mind until they dissipate like smoke and leave you in a shattered reality where you have again lost everything you care for. “You have the audacity to take him away from me?! Why?!” 

The Force hums in your ear. You see the clones who murdered your family, who killed your Master, all the clones you had been forced to kill because it was them or you. 

Just like right now, it was the child or you and din. They chose The Child. They chose the one who could barely defend himself. He was so innocent. So gentle. 

Why did the Empire have to ruin all the gentle things? 

You throw your arm as far as you are able and send the second saber in the same direction as the first one, using bloodied hands to guide the arc made between the two as they dissect the trees in half. “Have I not suffered enough?!”

I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans, that's my man

A small voice echoes in the wake of your anguish, “What about me?” Din asks through the vocoder and catches you so off guard that your sabers come soaring into the sky and disengage with a snap of your fingers before returning to your hands. The valley beneath you is nothing but ruin. How appropriate. “Have I not suffered enough, Sarad?” A pause before his trembling hands at his sides clench themselves into fists. Your eyes follow the defeat in his body language until your eyes are high enough that if the helmet were not on, you’d be looking directly into his own. “Have I not paid enough?” Din crosses the gap between you and lightly taps the beskar’gam. “Have I... have I not lost enough?!”  

It’s not like him to yell. Not at you. Not around you. 

Was the price not high enough? What else can they take from me?

Your lips quiver as you eye the man in front of you. Without uttering another word - and in spite of the tears that fall freely down your face - your gaze never tears away from his own as you remove his glove and link each finger, one by one, until your hands are linked. 

Then you lift them to your lips, unlike your fingers, and kiss each fingertip. 

  “You haven’t lost me.” Din wraps an arm around your waist to gently pull you into his hold, fingers curling around your hips as he peers at you through the visor. You can’t see his eyes, but you imagine there’s tears reflecting in them. 

  “I will. I lose everybody. That’s why I’m lone wolf, that’s why until I met you... I was always alone.” He laughs bitterly. “A Mandalorian and his ghosts. What a pair we make.” 

You wonder if Din’s ghosts are anything like your own, wearing the faces of the people who’d left you. Who'd sacrificed themselves for you. 

Life is a willow and it bent right to your wind... 

You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as he exhales shakily and rests his forehead against your own. Fennec and Boba are waiting for the two of you in Slave One, but they’re not in a rush. You have work to do in order to rescue your son from Moff’s Cruiser. 

As much as you hate it, the rescue of your child can wait for a moment if it means you can comfort Din. If Din can get to be human and grieve. He needs this moment so you can reassure him that no matter what The Empire - or the remnants of it - tries to take from him, you refuse to be a victim of it. You refuse to break. 

You won’t give them that satisfaction. 

  “You won’t.” You promise. “I belong to you. I am imprinted on you, Din. Heart,” You take one hand and press it against your chest, spreading his fingers over the pounding of your heart as you take your other hand to curl your fingers around the bottom of his helmet. You won’t lift it though. Not until he gives you permission. “Body, soul.” 

Those words ring in his mind as he takes his helmet off and allows it to clatter against the ground. The seeing stone looms behind him as his focus shifts away from that which has been taken from him, and that which is in front of him. 

You. 

  “We’re going to get him back.” You murmur against the shell of his ear as, for that sole moment, he allows himself a luxury he is so often denied. “We are going to bring our son home.”

Din’s face falls to your shoulder and he hides himself away from the world there. For that sole moment, he allows himself to be... human. 

What a luxury that a galaxy this one cannot afford him. What a luxury. 

Life is a willow and it bent right to your wind... 

[13uswntimagines]

Badass to Mushball (Alpha!Ash x Alpha!Reader x Omega!Ali)

Request: Ash and Reader are alphas and Ali is their omega and they go out and Ali gets threatened by someone, so her mates come and save her

Author’s Note: So a couple of things my dudes. The TJ that is mentioned is TJ Dillashaw, who is an MMA fighter in the UFC’s bantamweight division. Most fighters participate in Weight cutting, where their every day (walk around) weight is much higher than the cutoffs for the division they fight in.  This means that they lose lots of weight (usually in water) days before the fight to weight-in, and then they gain it back overnight to go into the fight with a distinct advantage. I hope you enjoy this! hit me up with requests, questions or if you have questions!

Ali tucked herself closer to Ashlyn as the entered the crowded bar, nosing her pulse point in an attempt to drown out the assault of pheromones that met them the second they walked through the door. Ashly rubbed her back, trying to soothe her mate. They were always on edge when you weren’t with them. Between your anger leaking through your mating bond and the insane amount of pheromones in the club that Kelley has chosen, both women were a little jumpy. 

Ashlyn placed a kiss on her little one's forehead, before craning her neck to find the table she was sure her teammates had commandeered. She smiled and nodded when she met  Alex’s eyes, using the hand on Ali’s back to guide her towards the table. 

“Hey, Krashlyn is here!!!” Kelley cheered, leaning drunkenly into her alpha. Alex rolled her eyes at the woman, still wrapping her arm around her waist. Ali waved as Ash settled them down into the booth. 

“Where’s the big bad Alpha?” Alex asked the women and Megan snorted at the implication. Sure you were a big bad UFC fighter, but around Ali and Ash, you turned into a puppy. 

“She said that her fight press conference is running longer than she thought,” Ash murmured, running a hand up and down Ali’s back and pumping out her calming scent. Crowded bars had a habit of throwing off the omegas delicate systems. Ali wasn’t your typical omega, having dealt with some very dominant and assholey alphas on the pitch, but Ash’s alpha instincts wouldn’t let anything mess with her omega. 

“The champ still running his mouth?” Kelley smirked at the pair, remembering what happened the last time your opponent talked shit. 

“Yeah, he was saying some stuff about us before we left to meet you,” Ali shrugged. You had a bit of a reputation for being stoic before a fight, and making the people you faced pay in the cage. She did not doubt that you would make TJ eat his words when you finally got to beat his face in (as you so lovingly referred to it). He was trying (and failing) to get under your skin, and she was sure he would regret his efforts later. 

“Stuff? I wouldn’t call him talking about her taking it up the ass stuff,” Alex rolled her eyes. It was supposed to be the ultimate insult to an alpha. A way to question their dominance, and with one of your mates being an alpha it was an insult you heard rather often. You were secure in your mates and how powerful of an alpha you were. You loved Ashlyn and Ali, and that didn’t make you wear. It made you stronger. 

“And she didn’t blow up at him?” Kelley asked squinting at the pair. You had tried to explain how the mind games in the UFC worked, and she still didn’t understand. If someone called you a bitch, weren’t you supposed to defend yourself? That’s what you had used to justify almost starting a brawl with Connor Mcgregor at the weigh-ins before your last fight because of an off-handed comment. 

“She said something about saving it for the cage,” Ashlyn shrugged. You were very tactical and you knew how to best deal with each opponent you faced. Getting riled up would only egg TJ on further. At least that’s what you said when they asked you the same thing. 

“Isn’t she afraid of that making her look weak,” Megan questioned, leaning forward at the table, glad that she was a beta and that she didn’t have to deal with the pheromones and dominance battles that the two other bearings brought. 

“After what she did to the last guy who talked shit, I don’t think so,” Ali snorted, remembering your very impressive 5-second flying knee knockout. 

“But like just between us, is she as much of a badass outside the cage as she is inside?” Kelley asked, her smirk aiding when she saw the blush bloom across Ashlyn’s face. Your bedroom preference was no one else’s business but your own. 

“Kelley, you’ve met her. Several times,” Ali huffed, shoring uncomfortable in her seat. 

“Yeah, but like, I don’t follow you guys into the bedroom,” Kelley laughed, ignoring her Alpha’s warning glare. 

“I think that’s my cue to go get our drinks. Whiskey on the rocks?” Ali grumbled, standing and gesturing towards the crowded bar. 

“You know it, babe,” Ash winked, patting her omega’s butt as she left, casually scenting her so no alphas got any ideas. 

“What’s a little omega like you doing ordering a glass a wine and a whiskey straight?” The alpha’s smell met her before she saw him, and unlike her mate’s scents, there was nothing soothing or arousing about it. It didn’t hold a candle to their dominant pheromones. 

“Not interested,” She said dismissively, waving him off and turning back to the beta bartender. The oblivious alpha took a step closer to her, so his front was pressed against his back. 

“Oh come on baby omega,” He said in what she assumed was his most seductive voice, nosing her shoulder. Her inner omega growled in disapproval. The only people who had the right to call her that and touch her there were her mates. 

“Don’t call me that,” She hissed, jerking away from him. 

“Then don’t act like a whiny little bitch and I won’t. I’m trying to be sweet with ya,” The alpha growled, cupping the back of her neck. She tensed at the contact, his finger grazing your mating bite that adorned her neck. 

“I already told you, I’m not interested,” She spat, turning away from the man, and standing to face him. She tilted her head to the side slightly, making her two mating marks even more visible. Though she was sure he had already smelt her mates all over her. The alpha’s features darkened and he took a dangerous step towards her. 

“Listen here,” He growled low, and not nearly as dangerous and dominant as she knew a growl could be. 

“Whoa there, I think you need to take your hand off my mate,” Ali relaxed at Ash’s calming voice. Her scent wrapped around her like a blanket. She stepped backward into Ashlyn’s arms. The other alpha rolled his eyes. 

“You wanna try and play that card? I’m not fucking falling for it. Find your own hookup,” He glared at Ashlyn, stepping forward and grabbing Ali’s wrist and releasing a puff of dominant pheromones. Pheromones that were weakly demanding their submission. 

“I don’t need to find a hookup, take your hand off my mate,” Ashlyn rumbled, releasing her own very dominant scent. A sick smirk stretched across the alpha’s face, enjoying the reaction he could elicit. 

“Well if that’s the way you wanna play it, I could make you both very happy. Show you what a real alpha is like,” His voice turned cocky again, winking at the women, not noticing the presence making her way behind him. 

“Mm, no thanks,” Ashlyn scrunched her face up in disgust, pulling Ali behind her. 

“Now, with a little firm guidance I think you two will be perfect,” The other alpha smirked, looking Ali and Ashlyn over. He took a step forward placing a hand on Ashlyn’s shoulder and releasing a sickening puff of his weak scent. 

A loud growl sounded from behind the alpha, a dominant wave of angry pheromones wrapping around them. 

“I believe the ladies said no, and I suggest you remove your hand before you lose it,” You hissed, stepping up behind the man and clamping your hand on his shoulder. A low and dangerous rumble starting in your chest. You were not in the mood to play. You could fear the frustration leaking though your bond, and your alpha was pissed. Demanding that you show this asshole that he was way off base. 

You were already in a bad mood because you had to deal with a jackass champion. Walking up to this scene had just been the crap icing on top of the shit cake. Your fists clenched as you tried to control your inner alpha, who demanded you destroy this man. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked whipping around to face your towering form. 

“That real alpha you mentioned,” you snarled, your lip curling. You knew your mates could handle themselves, but your alpha couldn't and wouldn’t tolerate some asshat touching her mate. 

The alpha pressed out his own scent, calling for your submission, and you laughed at his attempt. 

“Get your pathetic ass out of here,” You growled, stepping toe to toe with the man, a vicious smirk making its way across your features. 

Your body reacted before your brain registered what was happening, the fighter in you taking over this interaction and shoving your very angry alpha back into its cage in your brain. You blocked his very sloppy punch, twisting his arm behind his back, and pulling him close to your chest. He yelped in pain as you made the arm lock as tight as you could without ripping his shoulder out of socket. 

“I’m gonna give you a chance here because you’re probably drunk out of your mind. Walk out of here or find out what happens,” You growled lowly into his ear, smirking when his head tilted to the side in submission. No sober person would think it was a good idea to fuck with a well-known fighter. 

“Get the fuck outta here,” You barked, shoving him towards the door, cockiness oozing off of you as the crowd parted for him to leave, your signature half-smile plastered squarely on your face as you watched him go. 

You jumped as a soft hand was placed on your shoulder, and two arms wrapped carefully around your waist. The soothing scent of your mates cut through the cloud of angry alpha pheromones that surrounded you, making your inner beast purr. You took a deep breath, shaking your head and pulling you out of the mentality you took on when you were in the cage. 

“You alright my darlings?” You asked softly, turning in Ali’s arms and burying your face in her neck, Ash’s hands on your back further bringing you down from what you all dubbed the ‘fight high,’. 

“Real alpha?” Ali laughed into your ear, bringing a hand up to scratch your scalp, sharing a smirk with Ash when you began to literally purr. It always made them feel good when you melted in their arms. When you stopped being the big badass protector and allowed yourself to be protected. 

“I thought it sounded good,” You huffed into her neck, placing a sweet kiss on your mating mark on her neck and leaning back to look her in the eyes. You shot her a crooked smile before leaning down to place a sweet kiss on her lips, 

“Mm it did,” She moaned into your mouth, and your alpha perked up. 

“Hey, what about me! I protected Ali too!” Ash whined from beside you, and you grinned, placing a sweet kiss on the alphas lips, literally kissing away her pout. 

“How was the press conference?” Ashlyn asked, rubbing her nose on your neck, just over your mating mark. A shiver ran down your spine. 

“Horrible, TJ doesn’t know when to shut his mouth,” You grumbled, allowing Ali to lead you back to the table where Alex, Kelley, Megan, and Sue we’re sitting. 

“You’ll show him,” She said with confidence, nudging your shoulder.

“And I’m grumpy cause I’m cutting weight and this place had wings,” You whined, pulling Ali to a stop and pouting at her. The weigh-ins were in 3 days and that meant you really couldn’t cheat. It sucked. She rolled her eyes and placed a peck on your lips. 

“Come on big bad alpha, let’s get you some celery,” Ali laughed, and you smiled against her lips. 

“I’ll get the wings and let you smell them,” Ashlyn giggled, placing both hands on your shoulders and trying to rub the tension out of them. 

“Do that and you’re on the couch,” Ali mumbled seriously, shooting the other alpha a pointed look. Kelley’s cackle brought you all out of your thoughts. You glanced over at her and sent her a small wave, shrinking slightly behind Ali’s 

“It’s hilarious how you go from badass fighter to mushball I’m like 2 seconds,” Kelley said jubilantly, pointing and laughing. She winced when Alex slapped the back of her head. 

“Only for them,” you murmured, sliding into the booth. It was the truth and you weren’t ashamed of it. You were only soft for your mates, and if anyone deserved it, it was them. 

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going  “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[footywritingworks]

Red Lipstick On Him {Trent Alexander-Arnold}

For my dear @marcdurm. Yes I wrote it for you so I hope you like it 😂😘

Also I’m not that good at writing smut but I hope it’s still good enough

Word count: 3.9k

Leaning over the bathroom counter of the hotel room, you applied the last bits of make up to your face. You rounded it up with your favourite lipstick, a bright red shade suiting the dress you were wearing. The red, floor length gown with a slit on the side hugged your curves just right, the small gemstones stitched onto the fabric made the dress sparkle with every movement you made.

Being in Paris with Trent was something very special, especially in these conditions. He had the season of a lifetime, being the best player he could be, resulting in him being nominated for the Ballon d’or. You were incredibly proud of him. It wasn’t easy being with him. He took losses really personal and beat himself up if he didn’t play that well. But you stayed by his side, heeding him up and helping him out of the hole he sometimes buried himself in. He always said that you were the thing keeping him sane and grounded. But of course you knew it wasn’t just you. It was also the support and love he got from his family and friends that kept him the same Liverpool lad he always was.

The anticipation made you nervous, making yourself fidgety and playing with the engagement ring on your hand. Tonight was really big and you hoped to be able to celebrate something later tonight with Trent. Which is why you brought his favourite set of lingerie to Paris with you. Just like your lipstick and dress it was red, almost like the jerseys of Liverpool. There was no denying that Trent adored the colour red on you. You bought it for their first champions league win and it’s been his favourite ever since, even tho he had to rebuy the panties from time to time because he ripped them off of your body.

You got out of the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom when you saw Trent. You knew he always looked gorgeous no matter what he wore, but seeing him in a suit was a whole different level of handsome. He was wearing a back suit with a vest and a bow around his neck. The material was tight around his arms, making his muscles more visible. He looked broader in general with his shoulder looking even wider than before. He wore the silver watch you bought him for your last anniversary around his wrist. He looked truly incredible. Your mind was already making up scenarios on how you could get this suit off him and have your way with him. Goosebumps rose up all over your skin and a burning heat traveled south. You wanted him. You wanted him so desperately.

When Trent saw you his jaw dropped. He never had seen that dress before and it made you look like a goddess ready to take him with you wherever your heart desired. He came up to you with a huge smile on his face, his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you close, wanting to kiss you but you turned your head so his lips landed on your cheek.

“Lipstick, Trent. No kisses until the after party.”

He pulled away pouting and giving you the ‘are you serious’ look. He wasn’t pleased with you not kissing him and as much as he loved the red lipstick, he would much rather see it smeared around from passionate kisses. You gave him a small smile and stroked his cheek while the other hand grabbed for his and began to pull him to the door.

“Come on T. The faster we go, the faster we will be back. And then you can ruin my lipstick all you want.”

The gala was a great experience. Seeing all these football stars upclose was something you couldn’t get used to even after being with Trent for so long. You were almost bursting with pride when Trent was declared best player of the season and won the Ballon d’or. Tears were forming in your eyes as he walked up to the stage to get his well deserved trophy. You really had something to celebrate tonight. You really had something to celebrate tonight, first at the after party and hopefully later in the hotel on your own.

The after party was held in a big ballroom with chandeliers on the ceiling and golden decorations. It looked really fancy, much fancier than what you were used to. There was a buffet full of snacks and some people were going around with plates full of Champaign flutes. Trent grabbed one for you both and lead you to some of the England lads that were also nominated and so at the after party as well. You were mingling for a couple of hours, you getting a little tipsy from the Champaign you kept drinking.

You were giggling quietly, pushing yourself closer to Trent. His arm was wrapped around your waist the whole night, showing you were his missus and that you were the one always supporting him. But the more you drank the tighter his grip on your waist got. You were used to Trent getting more possessive when he was drunk but tonight it only made the fire inside you burn even stronger, making your need almost desperate. The couple in front of you was engrossed in their own conversation which gave Trent the opportunity to lean down to your height, whispering in your ear.

“You don’t know what you do to me baby girl. If we were alone you can bet I would rip this dress off your body and fuck you until you couldn’t anything else but my name. I’d make you cum until you can’t anymore.”

His words were the last straw for you, every considerate thought was thrown out of the window, leaving you with the burning heat in your body. Your skin was tingling and the muscles of your core clenched around nothing, making almost painful not to have him inside of you. He pulled away with a smirk on his face. He knew what he was doing to you. You lost your patience and pushed yourself on your tippy toes, so now you were face to face with him.

“Please, Trent. Do it. I want you to ruin me. Right here, at this party.”

You clung to his body, your thigh rubbing against his crotch, feeling a bulge growing. Trent was still smirking, pulling you closer so your body was pressed against his.

“Oh, baby girl. I won’t fuck you here. I would have to do it fast and you would have to be quiet and we both know you’re not one to stay quiet. Besides, I want to take my time with you.”

You were basically begging him with your eyes but he stayed strong. So you tried the last thing on your mind.

“Baby. Let me at least suck your cock. You deserve it. Please.”

Your last words were barely a whisper but they affected Trent in the biggest way possible. He held back a groan and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the toilets. People were dancing and the music was loudly playing, so no one noticed you making your way into the woman’s bathroom together.

He was pulling you into a free bathroom stall, locking it behind you while you got on your knees, the red dress falling around you. Trent leaned against the wall while you unbuckled his belt and opened his dress pants. You pulled down his pants with his underwear and your mouth watered at the sight of his cock springing up against this stomach.

You took him in your hand and pulled him to your mouth. You licked over his head, which made Trent let out a deep moan. You pulled away and spat into your hand before moving it up and down his shaft, your spit acting as a lubricant.

Trent began to groan when you took his head into your mouth, swirling your tongue over his skin before taking him even deeper. You felt him reach the back of your throat with your hand still pumping the inches you couldn't fit inside. Your gag reflex kicked in, your throat constricting around his cock. He seemed to feel good, his hips bucking into your mouth and his moans growing louder. You pulled away and looked up at him. He swore he could cum from just looking at you like this. Lips swollen, eyes slightly red and a string of spit still connected to his cock. He could see some marks of your lipstick on the skin. How much he loved that fucking lipstick.

"Shhh baby. Be quiet. Don't want me to stop, do you?"

Trent furrowed his brows. You wouldn't dare. He grabbed your head at the back of your neck to tilt your head upwards. You loved when he was dominant like this. It made your whole body tingle and you felt your panties get wetter by the second.

"Don't be naughty baby girl. Or I will have to punish you."

And then he pulled your mouth back on his cock, encouraging you to continue to suck him off. He was getting closer and closer to the edge. His breaths came out sharply and you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly under his dress shirt. And then he came with a groan as his hips bucked into your mouth as he emptied himself inside of your mouth. You swallowed and licked him clean before you stood up again to press a kiss against Trents lips. He pulled himself back inside his pants and smiled brightly at you.

"You make me crazy, you know that? I love you so much."

You smiled at him. It almost seemed unreal to love someone as much as you loved each other. But you and Trent made it possible. Many people told you that what you two had was something really special. His parent were especially happy for you two, claiming you had 'heart eyes' when you looked at each other or one of you was just as much as mentioned to each other. It all seemed like your own little fairytale with you being the princess and Trent being your prince.

You pulled him close to you by his shirt and have him one last passionate kiss before turning to the bathroom mirror to make yourself look presentable again. When you were done Trent took your hand and led you back to the ballroom. You each took one glass of champagne and got back to conversing with other people.

All throughout the evening you and Trent were getting more and more to drink. You were dancing and laughing and just having a good time. Little did you know there would be tabloid articles gushing about how adorable and perfect for each other you two were and how you were one of the Top 3 power couples Liverpool had ever seen.

Around 4am you were on the way back to the hotel, the taxi almost gliding through the streets of Paris. You were cuddling up to Trent, your legs touching and your head laying on his shoulder. His hand was laying on your thigh, caressing your skin that peaked through the slit of your dress. Your head rolled back so you could look up at him. His eyes sparkled and his smile made you feel the love you had for each other. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"I love you Trent. So much."

Trent leaned down to kiss your lips and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered like they always did when he was around. Like they always would. A lifetime without, without his love, was unimaginable for you. It would be unbearable. You wanted him to be your husband and have children running around your garden, the perfect mix of the two of you.

"I love you too. More than anything."

His voice send electric sparks through your body and your core clenched around air once again. His voice was raspy and deep, almost sounding like his morning voice. The need inside you growing more and more. You let out a whine, hoping Trent would understand what you wanted from him. He thankfully did and inched his hand considerably closer to the inside of your thigh also going up on you leg. He was what felt like mere inches away from your pussy. You were writhing already, trying to relieve the pressure by pressing your thighs closer together. But Trent pried your legs open and put his and over your already wet panties, which made you let out a breathy moan. If you weren’t so desperate for him, you would be embarrassed about how you were acting, but right now you couldn’t think about anything else but him.

„Do you want me that bad, babygirl? You’re soaked.“

His words were a hot whisper in your ear and you couldn’t wait to finally get inside the hotel so he could have his way with you. His hand now moved up and slid inside your panties. It slightly relieved your need but it also made you even more frustrated. His hand just laid there, without moving, his fingertips brushing over your clit every time the car shook from the pavement. On his face was a big smirk that drove you crazy. He always did that. He used every possible opportunity to tease you in public. You should be used to it by now but it only got worse the more he did it.

Finally the taxi stopped at the hotel and Trent took his hand out of your panties to pay the driver. He got out first and walked around the car to open the door for you. He held his hand out and helped you step out of the car yourself, the same smirk still evident on his face. He looked so cheeky, like a child who took some candy without their mother noticing. It made you only more frustrated.

He put his hand on the small of your back and led you into the hotel. His hand felt like it was burning on your skin and it was tingling with anticipation. All hairs stood on your body ready for any kind of touch he'd give you. Your own arm wrapped around his waist so you could push yourself closer to him. His bodyheat radiated off him and it was like you were both burning for each others touch.

You passed the nightguard on your way to the elevator, wishing him a calm and good night. He gave you a smile and nodded to you.

"You too, Mr and Mrs Alexander-Arnold."

Your face instantly became red, the blush rising up from your neck to your cheeks. Even after being together for so long and being engaged for a little while you still blushed whenever someone thought you were his wife already. You'd have to get used to this in the future.

You stepped into the elevator and he pressed the button for your floor. Just as the doors were closing, he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms tightly around you. Your hands found themselves on his cheeks, stroking the soft skin.

"It's so hot when people think you're my wife. Because you belong only to me. You're mine. My missus."

That was all it took for your desire to get the best of you. You pulled him into you and smashed your lips against his. The kiss was full of passion and lust, tongues moving and teeth clashing. His hand traveled down your your body, hiking your leg up around his waist by your thigh. His grip on the flesh of your thigh was strong with his nails leaving Crescent marks on your smooth skin. It made you moan out loud as you threw your head back.

Trents kisses wandered down to your neck. Kissing, licking and biting the sensitive skin made shivers run down your spine. You felt yourself get wetter by the second. It was almost like your whole pussy was throbbing, desperate for attention. But Trent wasn't going to give it to you that easily.

He focused on the skin between your neck and collar bones, one of your most sensitive spots. His tongue ran over the skin before sucking on it. It made your core clench and you let out a moan louder than the ones before.

Now you wanted to feel more of his skin on yours. The bow had already been loosed over the course of the evening. But you wanted the vest and dress shirt gone too. While he still caressed your neck you opened the button of his vest. You could feel his muscles under his shirt and you couldn't wait any longer. You had to do something. Now.

Your hands gripped at the top of his white dress shirt and the you ripped at it. You could hear the seams breaking as the buttons flew around the small space. Trent raised his head from your neck and looked at you. His brown eyes bore into you and and he raised his eyebrow. He wasn't happy with you ripping his shirt. He gripped your jaw with one of his big hand to hold you in place. Both of you were breathing heavily but Trent went into full dominant mood.

"Do I have to punish you, babygirl? You've been such a good girl all night and now you decide to be naughty. Typically."

Trent had never looked sexier than this. His shirt half ripped showing off his beautiful skin with his lips slightly swollen from kisses. His eyes held the lust he was feeling.

"No Tent. I just want you. I want you so bad. Please."

You couldn't see more of him because he turned you around so you were facing the wall. He pressed himself against you and you could feel his hard on rubbing against your butt. He gripped your hair to pull your head back so you could feel his breath on your neck. His voice was even more rough now, almost growling.

"Do you see, feel, what you do to me baby? I can't get enough of you. And we both know I always take what is mine."

Before you could say anything the elevator door opened on your floor. He took your hands and pulled you to your room. As soon as the door was closed he pranced on you like a starved lion. His kisses deep and his hands all over your body. You walked to your bed and you let yourself fall back onto the sheets. He opened the last buttons of his shirt as you admired his chiseled abs in the moonlight that shone through the windows.

He shed himself of the shirt and vest and crawled over your body. You began making out again. His kisses and his hands being all over you. You didn't know where you ended and he began anymore. All you felt was the burning passion that connected your bodies.

Trent sat up again and turned your body around so you were laying on your stomach. You loved when he'd sometimes manhandled you. It made you all giddy inside. He unzipped the gown very carefully because he knew you wanted to keep in one piece. Once he had stripped it off you he ripped off the red lingerie he loved so much.

"As much as I love this on you. I needed this off you. I'll buy you more. Much more."

You turned yourself back around so you could kiss him. You loved the feeling of his heated skin on yours. Your hands moved to unbuckle his belt and one of them slid under his briefs to feel his cock already hard in your palm. He pulled your hand out and pressed it on the sheets next to you. He began kissing down your body, taking extra care of your chest my massaging and nibbling on your nipples. Your back arched off the bed by the feeling what run through your body. It felt amazing. And he got even lower, kissing over your stomach before he reached your core.

You could feel his hot breath on the slick skin of your pussy and it made you squirm, wanting him to finally do something. He kissed your inner thighs slowly moving down. You bucked your hips up to get him closer but he just held your hips down with his arm.

All of a sudden he just dove in. First with a long lick along your folds before closing his lips around your clit and sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back and your hand gripped onto his hair for support. You always loved when he ate you out but this seemed different. It felt different. Better than ever before. He even ran some of his fingers over your entrance to check if you were wet enough and then pushed two fingers into you. He curled them upwards so they pushed against the bundle of nerves inside of you. Even though you tried to keep your moans low until now, you just couldn't anymore. Loud moans drifted out of your mouth and your chest was moving up and down repeatedly from your heavy breathing. He was eating you like a starved man. It was like his tongue was everywhere at the same time. It was overwhelming.

With him having his mouth on your clit, sucking so deliciously on it, and his fingers moving inside you felt like you were coming in no time. Your pussy clenched around his fingers and you could almost feel the smirk on his lips as he helped you ride through your high.

Your were still breathing heavily when he kissed his way up your body again. When you were face to face again you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. You hadn't even realized he had pulled his pants and briefs down, now also naked above you. When he pulled away from the kiss he leaned his forehead against yours. His brown eyes bore into yours and all you could feel was love radiating from the two of you.Trent pecked your lips one last time before moving to sit up to get a condom. But you stopped him by grabbing

his wrist.

"Don't. Just leave it there. I want you just like this."

His eyes widened. This would be the first time you would have bare sex. You were still young and didn't really want children yet. But you have been together for so long, the moment just felt right to not be as careful as you had been before. If it happens it happens.

His whole face lit up and he leaned right back down to kiss you again. He aligned himself with your entrance and pushed it. You gasped loudly at the stretching sensation. As many times as you had sex, you would never get used to his size. It always left a pleasant burn while adjusting.

You threw your head back in pleasure as he began thrust into you. The sensation of his bare cock was something you never wanted to miss again. Feeling every ridge and bumb of his skin without a barrier was so much better than you could have imagined. He hit spots inside of you that you never knew could feel so good. The both of you were breathing heavily but still connecting your lips in passionate kisses from kisses from time to time. Your hands were clasped together. The whole atmosphere was something you had never experienced. So passionate, so loved, like your souls were connecting.

And Trent really was your soulmate.

[alltheimaginationofme]

Desperate Dream

Drew McIntyre 

Be realistic.

Tags:  @blondekel77 @calwitch @chanelxberlinstark @briqueenofthenorth @fioportella @wrestlingfae @whocares006 @dancefaeirie @ramsaypants @alibob687 @lunarchaosqueen @keepyourdreamsalive @meremaidqueen @demonqueen29 @colbynatorsforlife

I’m back baby!... Kinda....

I turned in the bed again, waiting for an alarm I knew would come too soon. I felt the sick feeling of hollow rise in my chest, the crispy sheets felt too clean. Too cold. I open my eyes to the disgustingly bland room, who knows what hotel at this point. They all look the same. I turn to my phone, just as empty of notifications as I am of the will to rise and get the day started. The past few months would do that to anyone.

“God he drives me crazy.” I smile at Sasha. She winks and continues to scroll on her phone as Drew enters catering. While I was not the hottest star on the roster (being looks or with the audience) I always managed to keep a warm temperature around the Scottsman.

He walks with the kind of swagger you would expect from the current champion, despite him not currently having anything decorative adorning his waist. His usually unkept hair had been tied back as he picked an apple from the pile on the food table. At this point I felt myself heat in the cheeks, it would not look good to have someone like me staring at a man so openly. A married man. I frowned and picked at my now cool pasta in front of me.

Sasha leant across and caught my eye “You know… People are saying it’s not going well.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Drew, I mean… He hasn’t gone back to Scotland, in maybe, months?” I blanked at this information. I had noticed Drew was around a lot more, I just guessed they were gearing up to finally give him a title and he needed to prove commitment. The company had always been a bit archaic like that. “Probably warming up for the title Sash, he’s getting awfully close.” I pulled the corner of my mouth down. It wasn’t like Sasha to encourage a friend into doing something bad; she was the voice of reason.

She leant back and said “I know, but...” she flipped up her phone and went back to scrolling “Management told everyone they’re free to proceed however they need to, Heyman said he’s stayed voluntarily. The call for Drew as next champ was made months ago.” Now this was new. Sasha herself was in contention for the

Raw title, it would make sense that she had this knowledge… But the idea that Drew would go months without going home hinted at something else. Superstars always went home when they could. I did occasionally, but I had no one to go back to. Didn’t sting to be away when no one noticed you were gone. I was snapped out of my musing by the rather handsome man. “Is this seat taken, ladies?” Sasha shook her head and gestured to the chair and I smiled at him, feeling heat rise in my cheeks again.

He sat fluidly and brought tonight’s matchlist in front of him, I hadn’t even seen him holding it. “Uh, hey Drew- do you know what-” I began nervously and he cut me off without even looking up “Four” I smiled tightly and looked back down. “I better get going” I rose and went to take the pasta to the bin. “God luck!” I turned to see Drew had looked up from the sheet and was smiling widely at me.

How did he know my name?

I rolled to one side of the bed and back again. The idea that soon I wouldn’t have anything but memories made me sad, so sad. But what could I expect? It was nothing more than I deserved.

Drew’s shoulder brushed mine in the small booth, we were both laughing at Bayley dragging a terrified Kevin Owens towards the dance floor. He leant back in his place while I went to grab a drink from the centre of the table. As I turned back to check where I was sitting I noticed where Drew’s eyes were. I sat back, coincidently my back was now near Drew’s outstretched arm over the booth.

I felt this sudden urge to lean into Drew, and the room got hotter. I heard him clear his throat. “You’ve been doing well lass, makin waves.” I turned to him as he spoke and raised my brows. While it was true, I was slowly making my way up the ranks, it was a shock that Drew paid any attention to it. We weren’t in the same groups of friends, it wasn’t common that people ventured past their immediate friends. “Well, I could say the same to you Mr Number One!” I smiled back to him, happy that my work had been recognised. He shook his head and smiled. My heart could’ve stopped right there and then.

I smiled at the mirror across from the bed, lost in the memory of the night. Remembered being so struck by his smile, the way his eyes crinkled and the blue hues in his irises seemed to jump. I could understand how so many of his fans had fallen for him so quickly. I had been all too keen to throw myself at his feet.

His tongue was hot and heavy against my throat, licking a trail from the base all the way to my ear. I couldn’t help but squirm, it felt so wrong to have such an exposed part of me clear with his mark. If someone walked past they could see the wet mess I had too quickly become at the short work Drew had made of me. His hands wound my waist and I found myself trembling, the sheer power of the man. Trying to get my own back, I snaked my hand into his hair and pulled sharply- in turn pulling him from my neck. Drew growled and pushed his hips into me, pushing me against the wall further. “Drew, room!” I managed to gasp at him, and we soon both fell through the door.

“Are you sure ya don’t wanna continue in the hall? I could take you right there, how many men would be jealous?” I hummed under his praise, really anything that came from his mouth I was here for. The door slammed shut and his ripped at my clothes, I was getting annoyed at how they clung to me. He grunted and one of the buttons on my shirt pinged across the room. We moved to the bed and he licked down my neck, biting at the base and pushing his hips into mine.

I gasped his name to the ceiling; my prayer was heard when Drew took the rest of his clothing off. I kissed his cheeks and his beard burned under my lips. I knew this was a lust fuelled night, but I would take the adoration and these moments to fuel the idea of an us later. He chuckled and his hands found my hips, pulling me to him before moving me further up the bed.

I scrambled backwards and stilled as arms landed either side of my head. I found his eyes and kept contact, winding my legs open and around his midsection. I wasn’t sure how long this would go, before he realised the mistake, before he became sober- before my head found it’s way back to being on top of my shoulders. I couldn’t stop now, not knowing full well I could have felt him.

We both stopped and he lowered his head slightly, lips brushing mine. “Are ya sure?” He whispered to me I nodded and again refused to blink, scared to break whatever this was. I was already too wet, too worked up from the idea. He slid in far too easily and I moaned at how filthy it was. “This all for me?” I nodded again and licked at his neck. I suppose I could at least act like just having his hands on me was enough to fuel orgasms later on. After a few strokes, I could hear myself along him and Drew was grunting. I couldn’t have this over so soon.

My hand snaked between us, I needed to hear him, needed him to use me. I needed to make this impossible to forget. He grinned at me, thinking I was going for my clit. I smirked back. “Ah fuck, yer fucking-” his neck strained as I used my index and middle finger around his cock to squeeze him as he pulled out. He strained and stuttered into me a few times and I felt him pulse. I began to rub my clit and used the moisture from his cock to assist me. Drew was whispering things in my ear that I couldn’t hear. He’s fucking me, this is really happening, Drew is splitting me open. I couldn’t hear anything past my thought. I panicked and arched off the bed, cumming so hard it might have actually been leaking from me. Drew was moaning and began to protest when I pushed him off of me. I turned on my knees, spread my legs and wagged at him.

“Fuck, that’s how I like it baby.”

I bit my lip as he slipped in again, and I knew from the tempo he wasn’t going to last for too long. I snuck my hand down again to squeeze him and he grunted, thoroughly shoving me through the bed as he came inside me. I squeezed around him and sighed.

I had been stupid. So unbelievably stupid that night. And the many nights that followed. Each time Drew knocked, I had been on my knees waiting for him. Work had been no different for us, no real interaction… But Jesus. After school curriculum would take all night learning how to make each other sing.

That didn’t stop the worst part. It was easy to ignore the guilt and feelings of pure loathing when we were in the act. But the nights where we wouldn’t be together, the nights I would go home, he had press… Or he went home… I didn’t eat, or maybe I ate too much… Or was it that I drunk too much? I couldn’t remember the last time we had been separated. My life outside work was being drained by a man that wouldn’t look twice at work.

Sasha had been the one to spot it. I no longer looked when Drew entered the room, I knew the head would be between my legs later that night. She only looked at me and dragged me to a closet in the stadium we were in that night. “Look, I don’t know and I don’t need to know. You need to get your head in the game. Whatever has happened or is happening, you need to stop this. I don’t remember the last time we hung, the last time you were at the PC...” She shrugged and looked away. “People are talking. Of course I’m defending you, but please know that this is not worth it.” I looked at her, for the first time. I nodded… “I’m sorry Sash.” I chocked the words out and she hugged me, letting my cry into her shoulder.

Where did I think this was going? That we would just start skipping through work holding hands? So I asked. I spoke, I asked him what we were doing. It was hopeless, he gave me a demonstration that ended the conversation before it even started.

It was getting closer, there was more talk backstage. Drew was going to take the championship and run the company for the red brand. I was happy for him but… I had a decision to make. I think I had already made it when I never actually had a conversation about what we were doing. There was still a ring on his finger at press. As it loomed closer, his wife came over to see it happen live. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her. Not that she shouldn’t be there, she had every right. It was me that didn’t deserve to be there. I looked at her, so beautiful with brown locks and a glow around her that a happy wife always has.

I didn’t sleep for two nights after.

I wasn’t sure how I could live with myself, for being so selfish. For believing rumours about someone’s marriage. Never going to the source.

Be realistic, be realistic. It was never going to happen, it was nothing more than sex when his wife wasn’t there. Be realistic.

Hunter was not overly against my leaving. I gave him reasons like not being on TV and taking spots for others that deserved it more. I knew he saw through it. But he at least respected me enough to pretend to believe it. Be realistic I whisper…

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Erik walks in on his homeboys sister stepping out of the shower and she is embarrassed/ has a huge crush on him.

Warnings: Smut. Flash back.

Micheal and Yara.

Two siblings from Oakland who decided to get an apartment near Telegraph Ave so that Yara could study at Berkeley. Yara is currently studying Art History there and she will be graduating in May at the age of 21. Micheal, her older brother, is into graphic design and web development so he works for a small company creating websites for Architectural businesses. He also does free lance work on the side to earn extra cash so he can afford living in their expensive apartment. Micheal and Yara’s parents are divorced. Their father lives in San Francisco city and their mother lives where Micheal and Yara are with her new husband in Alameda County. Yara used to live with her mother but she didn’t get along with her step father. Micheal brought up the idea of sharing an apartment to Yara since his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Evette decided that she didn’t want to move in with him. 

Currently, Micheal and Evette are arguing about Micheal's whereabouts last Friday evening. Yara was trying to take a nap in her room before her late shift at 9:00 PM as a bar tender. Tossing and turning in her bed covered in fluffy white sheets, Yara groaned loudly before throwing her sheets back, temples pounding with a tension headache that Yara tries to sooth by massaging them but it doesn’t work. Only in a Metallica T-shirt, Yara grabs a pair of Champions sweatpants from her dresser, sliding her feet in her canary yellow UGG slippers, and walking out of her bedroom. Yara’s eardrums damn near bust when she stepped into the hallway of the apartment. Rubbing the cold from her eyes, Yara walked out into the living room area coming face to face with the source of the commotion.

“STOP LYING!” Evette, Short, petite, reminded Yara of Keyshia Cole because of her bright red hair and nose piercing, tossed a decorative pillow at Micheal from across the room. Micheal caught it with his quick reflexes before placing it back on the couch. He didn’t appear bothered at all by Evette’s screaming and hollering.

“Evette, I ain’t got nothing to lie about. I told you, I was with my boy, Erik. He’s back in town for a little while before he goes back to the Military,” Micheal spoke with a flat tone, eyes bored.

“I don’t believe you. I think you were with some girl. I think you’re out here sticking your dick in some other bitch. When I find out, I’m beating both of yall ass, for real,” Evette threatens Micheal with one of her long acrylic hot pink nails almost jabbing him in the eye. 

“This ain’t the first time you accused me of cheating,” Micheal ran his hands down his face, “It’s really getting on my nerves, Evette. The constant trying to go through my phone, picking fights with me, the insecurities. What do I have to lie about? I could have dropped you years ago but no, I care about you too much to do that. Now, I’m just tired of you acting like a damn child.”

“Ahem,” Yara clears her throat.

Micheal and Evette turn towards her.

“Do y’all mind taking this shit somewhere else? I have to work tonight and I can’t sleep with all this yelling.”

“Hi to you too, Yara,” Evette spoke sarcastically.

“Bitch, don’t give me attitude. Do you pay the bills in here?” Yara has her fists balled up like she was ready to hit Evette. Evette simply laughs, staring at Yara like she’s a joke before turning her attention back to Micheal.

“My bad, little sis, Evette was just leaving-“

“WHAT?” Evette’s voice grew loud again.

“You heard me. Bounce. If you don’t trust me I can’t deal with you, Evette.”

Evette folds her arms across her perky chest, “Do you actually mean it this time around or will you be calling me tomorrow night asking to come over? you are famous for that shit, Mike.”

Micheal groans, “I don’t know right now. All I know is I need you to leave so I can clear my head, you know what I’m saying?”

“Okay, clear your head, GOTCHA,” Evette turns around, practically stomping to the door, “Lying ass piece of shit.”

“Don’t slam the door either!”Micheal yells.

BAM!

“Yeah,” Micheal closes his eyes to calm himself.

“You’re better than me. I feel like following her and kicking that bitch down the steps. You need to drop her, Mike. Do you even see what’s going on?”

“Nah, baby sis, tell me what’s up? What am I NOT seeing?”

Yara tilted her head at Micheal with sad eyes. Micheal shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t understand what Yara was trying to tell him without using words.

“You can be so damn thick-headed sometimes,” Yara threw her hands up matter-of-factually, “Evette is cheating on you, Mike. She’s just trying to give you a reason to end things so she can continue fucking whoever she is fucking without you knowing.”

“Wait...what?” Micheal says with disbelief.

“You’re Girl? The love of your life? She’s fucking someone else, Mike.”

Micheal blinked at Yara with bewildered eyes.

“Listen, fool, while you’re sitting there stuck on stupid, Evette is driving to a dick appointment trying to think of a plan B to get rid of yo’ ass. Just end it with her. The shit is toxic. I don’t even want a nigga to step into my personal space after witnessing the shit you and Evette go through.”

“If Evette is cheating on me...” Micheal didn’t finish his sentence but Yara knew her brother would bring hell to earth if he caught Evette fucking another man. As much as they bickered and broke up, Evette was her brothers first real love. He wouldn’t admit it, but Micheal would be heart broken.

“Then I’m going to whip her ass,” Yara said in her brothers defense, “Nobody fucks with my bro like that.”

“I’ll let you beat her ass too.”

Yara kisses her brothers forehead, “I’m going to go back in bed, I am so exhausted with school- hold up, did you say that you were with Erik?”

“Yeah,” Micheal said whole scrolling through his phone, “He’s back for a little while.”

“I haven’t seen Erik in, like, three years?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long ass time. I thought he forgot about us,” Micheal laughs, “He’ll be here later if you want to catch him before you go to work.”

“Mama was asking about him a few days ago,” Yara says recalling the conversation they both had when she went to visit her. Micheal and Yara’s mother always pulled the photo albums out whenever they came to see her. The photo album she brought out when Yara came over was Micheal’s prom photos. Micheal and Erik went to prom together their senior year.

“Look at Erik! Wasn’t he so skinny?!” Yara’s mama says.

“Yeah, mama, he was swimming in his suit.”

Yara’s eyes twinkled when she stared at Erik’s photo. Her first ever crush. The guy she kissed on a whim when she was 18 and he was 24. Yara felt so embarrassed. Erik simply gave her a kind smile, hugging her tightly. She felt like a silly child. Erik was a grown man. Ever since then, Yara hadn’t seen Erik.

“You Aight?” Micheal looked over at Yara with a smirk.

“I’m fine.”

Yara couldn’t stop thinking about her brothers friend who used to spend the night when they were kids. His friend who wore only a pair of basketball shorts when he slept. His friend who used to stand in Yara’s doorway to her bedroom teasing her.

“You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” Yara looked off to the side.

“When you look away like that it’s a sign that you’re lying. You ain’t gotta tell me, it’s probably some nasty shit that I really don’t want to know anyway.”

“Shut up, Mike,” Yara rolls her eyes, turning away to walk back to her room with her middle finger raised behind her, directed towards her brother.

——————

A few hours later:

Erik Stevens stepped off of the elevator within Micheal and Yara’s apartment building on Telegraph Ave. kinky fro freshly shaped up and a new fit and shoes on his feet, Erik checked his text message from Micheal that informed him of what apartment it is.

“9C,” Erik places his phone back inside of his jacket pocket, eyes searching from left to right before spotting the crisp white door with a bronze letter C on it and a tiny peep hole. Erik knocks, the gold Piaget watch on his right wrist making a loud tapping sound against the surface of the door. In under two seconds, Micheal opens the door, a broad smile on his handsome chocolate face when he noticed who it was.

“What’s up, cuz?” Micheal gave Erik dabs, “I ain’t expect you to be over this early, bruh, you good?”

“I’m good, I just needed to get away from CeCe. You know she offered for me to stay at her new place instead of a hotel.”

“You know you have to tell me about all of that, right?” Micheal jokes, holding his door open further for Erik to enter. Erik steps inside, his eyes admiring the urban styled apartment. It was Boho vintage with different shades of browns, greens, and reds. The living room was decorated and furnished with cream colored walls, Urban photographs of Oakland, cactus plants, a standout leather sofa set in a dessert brown color accompanied with khaki colored patch work leather ottomans and an elegantly modern coffee table featuring a round metal tabletop in a brushed, antique brass finish. 60 inch flat screen TV, an acacia wood credenza that Erik was sure is filled with old 70s and 80s records.

“Shit, let me take my shoes off, I don’t want to mess up this nice carpet,” Erik kicks his shoes off near the front door.

“You can put them in that shoe rack right there if you want. Yara got that from the thrift store about a week ago.”

Erik looks up at Micheal with expectant eyes, “Little Yara? She lives with you? what happened with Evette?”

“Long story, bro, Yara and I decided to get a place together close to Berkeley and I work for that new company I was telling you about last weekend so we can commute easier. Plus, you know moms live near us too.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, what is little Yara studying at Berkeley?”

Micheal smiles like a proud older brother, “Art History. She wants to become a Curator.”

“I’ve always seen her working in a museum. She loves history so much,” Erik reminisced with a slight smirk, “Is she here?”

“Straight back there-Wait.”

Erik was ready to rush back to see her.

“Let me see if she’s decent. She gotta work in about a few hours.”

“No problem, bruh, I’ll chill out here.”

Erik watches Micheal walk to the back of the apartment where the rooms are. Taking a seat on the leather couch, Erik strokes his beard, thinking about Yara. He hadn’t seen her in three years. He wondered how different she looked. By different he meant mature and filled out like a women. Back when she was just 18 years of age, Yara was so petite and athletic since she played Lacrosse, braces on her teeth, and so sweet and innocent. From what Micheal told Erik last weekend when they went out to a Hookah bar for Boys night, Yara gained weight. Micheal joked about it, typical sibling teasing, but Erik wished he could have seen a picture. Now, his mind went back to when Yara kissed him the night of her graduation party before Erik left to start his JSOC training. He honestly didn’t know how to respond. Yara looked like her world came crashing down when he didn’t reciprocate the same feelings. She was much younger than him, Erik has her by six years. She was 18 and he was 24. Yeah, Yara was legal but it still felt weird. He always knew little Yara had a crush on him and he surely didn’t want Micheal to know about it.

“She’s still asleep,” Micheal walked back out with a generous bag filled with an eighth of top-shelf weed, “You want to smoke a blunt and tell me about this bitch named CeCe?”

———————

Yara. Don’t forget. The history project is due tomorrow night. Since you’re group lead, you have to submit it.

Yara rolls her eyes at the group chat she was in with her fellow History classmates. That assignment was the last thing on her damn mind. Yara closes her Mac, stretching her curvy body out like a cat before getting up from her comfy bed. Like a strong wind, the smell of kush hit her nose. Yara noticed that her bedroom door is cracked. Micheal must have come to check on her. Yara slips on a pair of Champion Reverse Weave drawstring shorts that were folded on the end of her bed in a pink color, bed hair and all, walking out of her room and towards the living room. When she entered the hallway, two male voices could be heard. It finally dawned on Yara who the other male present could be.

Erik.

Yara walks to the bathroom, deciding to wipe her face off and brush her teeth. She still needed to shower but that could wait until she ate something. Admiring her hair, Yara reaches up to pull her hair tie from her curly hair, fluffing it out and shaking her head so it wouldn’t look like she just rolled out of bed. Yara then brushes her teeth, using her water closer afterwards. Satisfied, Yara takes in a deep breath to try and calm the butterflies in her stomach before walking out of the bathroom and towards the living room area.

“So, you’re telling me that CeCe is trying to hook you up with someone? why are you there?”

“You know she likes playing match made in heaven. CeCe is cool, Mike, I know me and her used to fuck around before I left but it ain’t even like that now. Just a friend helping out a friend. No big thing.”

Micheal chuckles, “E, I know you, man. You had all that pussy around you to play with and you ain’t have a taste? Nigga-“

“Like I said, nah. I don’t want that anymore or her friend she’s trying to get me with. Her friend just wants to know how the dick CeCe used to get is really about. You can look at me like that all you want. Everything is temporary. I’m shopping for a house right now-“

“You can just sleep on our couch-“

“I’m too big for this fucking couch,” Erik laughs, “Once my house is built from the ground up, you’ll see that it was all worth it. And you know I can’t stay with our other friends they gon’ get me caught up and I don’t need to be in jail.”

Erik takes a puff of weed before handing it over to Mike.

Micheal accepts the weed, instantly smoking it before letting the smoke out from his nose, “You’re a changed man, E. Got a house in the works, left the hood to pursue your dreams of being this J.I Joe motherfucker,” Erik playfully jabs Micheal in his ribs, “Seeiously, man, I’m proud of you. Wait until Yara sees you, bruh.”

Erik licks his lips before raising a single brow, “What you mean by that?

“She ain’t gonna believe this the same Erik from three years ago. What you do? Get inside of the same machine as Captain America?”

“Funny, nigga.”

Yara didn’t reveal herself just yet. She just wanted to hear him talk. Erik’s voice definitely appeared deeper. Raspy, then husky, then deep and gruff. When he genuinely laughed it was still just as light as before. Yara peeked out into the living room. A tiny gasp escaped her mouth. Kinky fro, muscles, facial hair, and tiny scars on his arms is what she noticed first. Micheal was right, this was Erik 2.0. Then, whenever he talked; those lush lips moving, Yara saw gold canines in his mouth. He looked so rough and scruffy. The Military definitely made him harder.

“Yara, stop being nosy!” Micheal yells. Yara almost jumped where she stood. She was so in tune with her thoughts that she hadn’t realized how close she’d gotten into the living room.

“Shut up Mike!” Yara fired back. With nervous eyes, Yara looked over at Erik. He didn’t speak, all he did was look fixedly at her with his eyes wide open. It was as if time stood still and she was the only thing that mattered in that room. Even the weed in Erik’s hand could burn to ash.

“Hi, Erik,” Yara couldn’t stop herself from grinning when Erik smiled at her with his dimples.

“Little Yara, what’s going on girl!” Erik hands Micheal the blunt back before standing from the couch, walking over to Yara with his arms outstretched for her to give him a big hug. Yara walks up to Erik, giggling nervously before bringing her arms around his waist, squeezing him. Erik rocked Yara back and forth while his chin rested on top of her curly head. Erik then brings his lips down to kiss Yara’s forehead before pulling her away to get a good look at her.

Heart shaped face, dimple in her chin, glittering eyes fringed with long eyelashes that reminded him of maple syrup, silken skin like cinnamon, ebony ringlets that made her thick but arched brows pop, lips full and glossy with a prominent Cupid’s bow. Erik’s eyes burned with desire when he gazed at Yara’s voluptuous, curvy, ample, and generous body. She really filled out from the last time he saw her. Mike can joke all he wants but Yara looked...

Erik covered his eyes with his hands, a suppressed laugh escaping his mouth before he opened his arms wide for her to hug him again. Yara giggles, stepping back into his embrace again to accept his hug. He smelled like patchouli. Tall, brawny, chiseled, broad-shouldered, and hulking, Yara couldn’t get over how comfortable she felt within Erik’s embrace. The deep baritone of his voice made her shiver.

“Look at you girl, all grown up. Crazy how that happened in three years, right?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Yara turned her face away timidly, “So, how is the Military treating you? I mean...” Yara looks Erik up and down with a shake of her head, “It seems like it’s treating you nice. Go hard or go home, right?

“Treating me like I’m a piece of shit but it’s worth it,” Erik laughs, “The Military transformed me.”

Yes it did

“You do look great, I almost didn’t recognize you sitting on that couch. The hair, the muscles, the scars...”

Yara looked at them, her hand extending out suddenly to touch a row of scars that looked freshly raised against his skin.

“Don’t.”

Yara jolted upright, her hand jerking away. His voice and the look he gave her had her shrank in front of him.

“Shit, my bad, girl. You don’t want to touch these. Bad memories. That’s all, little Yara, I’m sorry.”

“It’s...it’s okay,” Yara steps away, shifting from one foot to the other, “Good to see you though, Erik.”

“You too, girl,” Erik scratched his beard before reluctantly turning away from Yara to take his seat next to Micheal on the couch. Yara watched him walk away while tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. The way they greeted eachother felt so different. Erik wasn’t only physically changed, He’s mentally changed too.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?” Micheal stretched his slender tattoo covered arms above his head.

“Yeah, but I’m hungry so,” Yara rubbed her hands on her thighs to get rid of the sweat before walking away and into the kitchen. Yara finally exhaled when she entered the kitchen after holding her breath while walking past Erik. The kitchen was open and you could peek into the living room. Erik was sitting directly across from Micheal staring straight ahead at Yara while smoking his blunt. He tilted his head at her while half listening to Micheal talk about Evette. Yara turned her face away, grabbing a loaf of wheat bread from the counter to make herself a PB&J sandwich.

“Little sis, what you cooking up in there?”

“Nothing for you,” Yara spread strawberry jam on her bread, “Why don’t you order in?”

“I was thinking about it, E, I’ma make a liquor run real quick, you want anything?”

“I got some good stuff in the car I can grab, you aint gon’ drink it so don’t even ask.”

“Yeah, I like my own shit,” Micheal stood from the couch, walking towards the back of the apartment to his room. It was silent minus the low TV and Yara washing the butter knife she used to make her sandwich. Erik leaned back into the leather couch, crossing his arms over his solid chest. He watched Yara walk over to the trash can to toss a paper towel in the trash that she most likely used to clean up crumbs or spilled jam. Erik has a great view of Yara’s thick ass bending over, her drawstring shorts raising up her thighs and getting caught between her ass cheeks. Such a beautiful sight has Erik’s brows knitted as he gave her a once-over. At that particular moment, Yara looked back at him as if she could feel his eyes boring into her.

“Hi.” She spoke in a trembling tone.

“Hi, back,” Erik says suggestively.

“Did Mike leave yet?”

“Nah-“

“Aight, I’ll be back, y’all good? Need anything?” Micheal was back with a hoodie on, a dad cap, and a pair of vans on his feet.

“Can you stop by that corner market that sells those organic fruits? I want some mangos.” Yara yelled from the kitchen.

Micheal grabbed the door knob, pausing, “I’m making a liquor run too.”

“Oh! I want some Hypnotiq.”

“Cool, you, E?”

“We can order in when you get back, I’m good.”

“Bet, I’ll be back.”

Micheal exits.

“Mike still just as skinny as he was since the last time I saw him” Erik laughs.

“Yeah, he can eat but it goes nowhere. Me, I gained all the weight in the world.”

Erik gave Yara a dismissive wave of his hand, “Girl, you look good. Ain’t nothing wrong with the weight you put on.”

Yara giggles, popping a green grape in her mouth, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Erik craned his neck to try and see her, “Why don’t you come in here and eat. Over there hiding and shit from a nigga.”

“Okay,” Yara got up from the dining room table, walking through the kitchen and entering the living room. She decided to sit her plump bottom on the floor while using one of the leather ottomans as a surface for her grapes and half eaten sandwich.

“So, how have you been?” Erik asked while rolling a new blunt.

“I’ve been doing just fine. Ready to graduate honestly.” Yara nervously rubbed her shoulder before gazing at Erik, “You?”

“Busy, busy, busy,” Erik’s onyx eyes landed on hers before looking back at his blunt, “Just traveling, training, that’s about it.”

“Oh,” Yara massaged the back of her neck, “Does those scars have anything to do with it?”

“Partly, yeah.”

“I see,” Yara admires them, “They look...they don’t look like typical scars.”

“That’s because they’re not.” Erik spoke in a flat tone.

“Let me just, stop asking,” Yara laughs awkwardly.

Erik chuckles, “It’s not a subject I rather talk about with you, Little Yara.”

“I understand. I won’t pry.”

“Cool,” Erik takes a hit of his blunt, cheeks blowing out as they filled with smoke, “Seeing anybody?”

“Nope. I haven’t for the past three months. Been trying to stay focused. Men are a distraction.”

“Y’all women are too,” Erik laughs, smoke escaping his nose.

Yara cocked her head, “So, my guess is you aren’t seeing anyone either.”

Erik licks his lips, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Does that include sex too?”

Erik clapped his hands together while chuckling, “Ahhhh, shit, Yara, did you just ask me about my sex life? Are you having sexxxxxxx?!

“I did. And I’m grown, ERIK, so yes, I’m having sex,” Yara gave a half shrug while rolling her eyes.

“21, right? I remember when I was 21. Legally can drink now and everything. Too bad you still can’t hang with us,” Erik chuckles.

Yara gave Erik the finger, “fuck you, don’t play with me like that.”

“I’m just saying, I remember you graduating high school the last time I saw you. Now you’re in your 20s, barely.”

Yara lowered her head, “Will you always remember me like that? Like DAMN, I did grow up, nigga.”

Erik noticed the attitude in her voice, “You’re mad at me?”

“Just annoyed,” Yara stood up, grabbing her food, “I’m gonna eat in my room so I can look over this project I have to submit tomorrow. I’ll see you later, Erik.”

Confused, Erik watched Yara practically storm away. He didn’t understand why his words offended her so much. It’s just what Erik is used to. He’s used to seeing Yara so young not a 21 year old adult. It was all still so new to him. Deciding not to chase after her, Erik gets up from the couch to retrieve his shoes so he could grab his drink from his car.

———————

Yara couldn’t even focus.

She was really bothered by Erik’s comments.

It was mainly because every time he cracked jokes she thought about her kissing him. He probably cracked jokes about that too. Clearly, Erik couldn’t look past the fact that Yara is Mike’s little sis. She really thought he was past that when he first laid eyes on her. She could tell what a look of lust was in a man’s eyes since Yara often receives that look. Erik’s eyes were gleaming with desire and attraction. He almost looked shocked that it was Yara. Then, the way he looked her up and down. His eyes damn near gaped when she noticed him staring while she was in the kitchen. Pupils flared and all. Now, it was as if he was trying to hide the attraction he has towards her after three years. Yara was disappointed honestly. She always thought the next time she ever saw Erik they would honestly re-do that kiss and possibly have sex. If Yara had the choice to go back and lose her virginity it would have been with Erik.

Glancing at her phone, Yara noticed it was around 7:45 PM. Luckily, the bar she worked at wasn’t too far from her. Yara didn’t drive so she usually walked or caught an Uber. Lifting from her soft and fluffy floor cushion, Yara grabs her white cotton towel and soap sponge to take a shower. Leaving her room, she could hear Erik watching a basketball game. Yara closes her bedroom door, walking across to the bathroom, closing the door behind her softly. She began to undress, stripping her clothes from her body into a wrinkled pile on the floor near the sink. Opening the medicine cabinet, Yara grabs her Dove sensitive skin body wash and exfoliating spin brush. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about Erik being in the living room right now while she was naked in the bathroom. There was no way Yara could ignore the growing dampness between her legs. She hadn’t been wet to the thought of Erik in a very long time.

Luke warm water running, Yara pulled the tribal patterned shower curtain back, stepping inside carefully not to slip on the the shower mat, then closing the curtain behind her. Yara forgot to pin her hair up but she needed to wash her hair anyway so she allowed it to grow wet while she wet her body completely. Grabbing her exfoliating brush and the body wash, Yara applied the body wash to her curvy body, turning on her brush and in a circular motion, began to cleanse her skin from the neck down. She had a separate skin care routine and a spin brush for that as well. Yara lifts her leg on the side of the tub to wash behind her thighs, the warm water running down her ass and to her pussy. Yara felt extra tingly between her legs. She didn’t have time to rub off in the shower and she forgot her favorite vibrator in her bed room. Groaning, Yara tried to ignore it as best as she could while scrubbing the top of her feet.

————————

Erik sat cross-faded with his eyes sitting low. The basketball game was just background noise for him. Bored out of his mind, Erik really wanted to go and talk to Yara. He didn’t want to approach her on some awkward shit but at the same time he missed talking to her. Erik remembers how he used to talk and goof off with Yara from her doorway when they were younger. Micheal is very long-winded and sitting on the couch will eventually lead to Erik falling asleep. Erik leans forward on his elbow to peek down the hall where Yara’s bedroom is located. The hall was brightly lit from the light and he couldn’t tell which room was hers exactly. All the damn doors looked the same.

“Fuck it,” Erik places his phone on the coffee table, rising from the couch and making his way down the hall. Hands in his pockets, Erik approaches the first door. He knocks, no sound, twisting the knob and opening the door. It was Mikes room. Erik closes the door, walking further down the hall and approaching a door to his right. The light was on, he could tell from the glow beneath the door. Erik knocks, no sound. He grabs the brass knob, twisting it, then opening. Standing there, Erik’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His mouth hung open and his eyes went round as if they were about to fall out of their sockets. He gawked at the sight of Yara before him. A sight he never imagined in a million years he would see up until now.

Yara was arched over the bathtub with her ass pointed straight out at Erik. Erik could smell cleaning products; Fabuloso from what it smelled like. The water in the tub was on full blast as Yara cleaned the porcelain. Her body was still wet and she had a T-shirt wrapped around her hair. Yara’s ass jiggled each time she scrubbed the tub out. She wasn’t aware of his presence. Erik was so stunned by her naked body and the fact that he walked in on her that he couldn’t even speak.

Too late.

Yara lifts her body up, turning to place the scrub brush on the floor near the tub, her eyes catching Erik standing within the entrance to the bathroom. Yara felt as if her heart was leaving her body. Shell-shocked almost. Now, her breasts were revealed to him. Large, big brown areolas and nipples soaking wet and dripping, curvy waistline glistening with water down to her waxed mound and thighs. Pretty toes painted white with a tattoo of a rose on her left foot. Yara looked appetizing. Yara bit her lip bashfully, eyes glossy as if she wanted to cry from embarrassment, her hands reaching out to the toilet to grab her folded towel. Yara presses her lips together to try and stop her lower lip from trembling and eyes her looked heavenward.

Yara spoke with a shaky voice, “I-Why didn’t you knock? Erik?”

Erik didn’t respond. His eyes were ablaze staring straight at her face. He felt turned on but at the same time he felt guilty. Luckily, Yara couldn’t see how fat and long his dick had gotten within his jeans. She couldn’t hear him, maybe he should have knocked harder. Yara’s hands were shaking and she couldn’t meet his eyes. She was overly embarrassed and not at all prepared. Yara crosses her thighs, pressing the towel further into her chest.

“...I knocked. I should have knocked again. Shit, Yara, I’m sorry-“

“Just-it’s cool,” Yara sized Erik up before rolling her eyes, “Can’t go back now, yeah?”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Yara,” Erik felt like shit, “I’m so so so sorry, Yara.”

“Erik, stop with the apologizing,” Yara drew in a long breath.

“I’m just gonna go,” Erik turns away, walking out of the bathroom. Yara stayed rooted to the spot, her hand pressing further into her chest to calm her rapid heart beat. As always whenever Yara felt embarrassed, she sighed before laughing quietly to herself. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Yara shook her head at what just happened. She was afraid to even look Erik in his eyes now. He saw her in full on nudity. Not in her panties and bra, not in a swimsuit, not wrapped with a fluffy towel, no, fully naked.

Twirling a strand of hair that fell from under the T-shirt, and chewing on her cuticles, Yara gathered herself before leaving the bathroom. She places the cleaning products back in its designated basket under the sink before grabbing her sponge. Yara walked out of the bathroom, entering the hallway and her eyes disobeying her as she nervously glanced into the living room. There seated on the couch with his eyes focused on her, was Erik. Like a magnet, Yara couldn’t pull her eyes away. It was as if he waited to see her leave.

Yara raised a hand in greeting.

He waved.

Yara hung her head, a small smile on her face.

Erik did the same thing before looking at her again.

“I hope this doesn’t make it weird between me and you,” Yara says.

“Never,” Erik spoke with his deep voice, “it could never be weird with you.”

Yara licks her lips, eyes set with long lashes blinking slowly at Erik.

“What are you thinking?” Erik asks while leaning forward on his elbows.

“I’m...I...just-forget it-“

“Nah, tell me.” Erik pushes his eyes searching.

“Mike will be back soon, I have to get dressed.”

“He ain’t back yet,” Erik tilts his head at her, “Don’t be so shy. It’s me, Erik.”

“But it’s what I’m thinking that I shouldn’t be,” Yara crosses her ankles in front of her while staring at her toes.

“Well, I wanna know.”

Yara fidgeted with her fingers before looking up at Erik through her lashes, “I was thinking that I’m glad you saw me like that. I’ve always wanted you to see me like that. Sorry I stormed away like I did earlier.”

Erik swallows spit, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Erik has to look away himself, scratching his nose. He wasn’t prepared for that response at all. Little Yara always wanted him to see her naked. He knew she had a school girl crush on him. No wonder why she didn’t rush to cover herself even though she still looked embarrassed.

“No worries, ma. Uh,” Erik scratches his dreads, “So...you’ve always wanted me to see you naked?”

Yara toyed with a lock of hair, “Yeah...” she spoke with her voice barely above a whisper.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, little Yara, you’ll get yourself in trouble.”

They way he said that sounded so dangerous like fucking with him was the last thing any women would want to do. But Erik didn’t understand, that was ALL Yara wanted to do. He was back, if she didn’t make a move now he would be gone again.

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen me, Erik, I dabbled in trouble,” Yara spoke with a honeyed tone.

“Maybe you should get in that bedroom before Mike gets here then,” Erik says with a sly smirk.

“Yeah, maybe,” Yara giggles before letting out a sigh,

“Bye, Erik.”

“Bye, Yara.”

She didn’t want to move. She really wanted Erik to get up and follow her into her bedroom.

“What you waiting on?” Erik says inclining his head towards the bedroom, “Get in there, little Yara.”

“Come with me?” Yara says before she could even stop herself.

Erik’s eyes dropped and his lips parted. Eyes fully closed now, he clenched his jaw to try and calm his dick. Too bad it was already growing stiff in his jeans. The way she told him to come with her. Such a tempting little thing. Nothing he expected Yara to ever say to him. She’s right, she definitely is a grown women now. Erik wondered what that body could really do.

“I’m-im Sorry,” Yara’s brows creased, eyes cast down at her hands, “I’m being a little too bold right now.”

Erik looked towards the door, then back at Yara. He took in the sight of her barely able to keep that towel around her body.

“You mean what you said? You’re not playing games?” Erik asks with a serious tone, “Cuz if I get up off this couch and come with you, you’re getting all of me, girl.”

“I know,” Yara bites her bottom lip, “I know what I want.”

The way her lips pouted and her eyes looked up at him all innocent caused Erik to stand up slowly from the couch. Erik drew his lower lip between his teeth hands in his jeans pockets before stepping forward. Yara’s lower lip trembled and her breath came out in short gasps. Standing directly next to her now, towering over her with his large intimidating frame, was Erik looking down at Yara with awe transforming his face. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Yara began to walk forward towards her bedroom. Yara twisted the handle, turning to face Erik before opening the door. Erik followed her into darkness, Yara turning to face him with timid eyes. Erik raised a single brow at her, silently asking her if she was sure about this. Yara swallows spit before nodding her head slowly. Erik licks his lips before closing that door behind him, the light that illuminated the hallway disappearing.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @theesotericqueen @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @rent-emspoons @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs​ @soulfxll​ @whazzzupmyhitta​

[katerinawinters]

Predator: Huntress Alpha ch 8

"Is this…" she paused, looking around the narrow space in disbelief. "Is this your apartment?"

 Jarak looked from her and followed her line of sight around the cramped space, trying to see what she saw before nodding.

 "Jarak, it's so tiny!" she blew out an exasperated breath as she sat the fruit on a narrow counter jutting from the wall in an area that looked to be a small kitchenette. Turning back around to the hunter, she gave him a confused look. "You're way too big for a tiny apartment like this. Is rent high here or something?"

 Tilting his head in question, Jarak lifted his gauntlet and clacked the tips of his claws against the data-pad. Entranced, she watched him as he read the holographic information before closing it and lowering his arm.

 "I do not pay rent," he answered firmly.

 For a moment, Justice let the little scene playback in her head and remembered the backward lettering he pulled up from his gauntlet, with a slow spreading smile of realization, she fought back the urge to laugh. He had looked up the word rent.

 Pressing her lips together, she stifled her laughter to ask another question, but Jarak's eyes narrowed as he watched her closely, and he cut her off.

 "Yautja do not use money. We gain what is needed ourselves. We bring honor to our clan, and if I am worthy, the clan leader will decide what to bestow to me."

 Nodding, she walked toward the bed which dominated most of the back wall, save for the two doors on either side of it, the bed looked properly proportioned, at least. Although, she noted it was another black leather mattress. Pulling Larsa from the harness, Justice carefully put her on the bed.

 "So, does your leader not think you are worthy enough for a bigger room than this?" She asked, genuinely interested. Maybe this leader of Ojibwe was a real dick. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would need to meet the reigning yautja, and she wanted to know as much as she could about the hunter beforehand.

 Turning in place, Jarak watched her as she sat cautiously at the end of his bed and shook his head once at her question. "Rakkah is a worthy leader. He has shown respect to my victories. He has offered me much, but I need little. I have taken a ship as one of my bounty payments, that is all I require."

 Right now, she was positive she possessed more information about yautja than all the galaxies combined. Nodding once more, Justice glanced around the cramp quarters and reassessed. It was spartan, just like the hunter's ship. Besides the ridiculous amount of weapons lining the left wall, there was not one other piece of personality lying about like it was in her apartment back on LV594. Baby toys had been scattered across the living room floor. Dirty clothes, hers and Larsa's were sitting in a pile by the door ready to be taken to the laundry unit, and the single holo-photo of her and her sisters kept on a tiny piece of flimsy, all smiling and posing within their suits and guns, tucked under her pillow. All lost to her now.

 Running her fingers softly across the bottom of Larsa's soft foot, she looked up to the hunter. Whatever he saw shining back in her eyes made the hunter stiffen suddenly.

 "Stay here, I will return," without waiting for a reply Jarak turned and left through the only door.

 Justice waited until the door shut once more before finally standing. Taking off her backpack and pulling the gun's strap over her head, she sighed just as her stomach let out a deep growl. Walking over to the kitchenette, she surveyed the simplicity of it: a counter, a sink, and a glass refrigerator nearly tall as she was holding a huge rack of raw marbled meat inside.

 A meal of champions, she thought wryly.

 Washing off the fruit, Justice took a tentative bite and smirked at the tart flavor. Grabbing and washing three more, she began to walk the length of the apartment. Similar to his ship, the uneven black walls were covered in various striations and grooves, hiding a number of hidden compartments and interactive displays. Circling back around until she was at the bed, she stopped in front of one of the two doors. Pushing the data-panel, she was surprised at the spacious--of course, all black--bathroom beyond.

 Stepping into the bathroom, she was relieved to see that this one had a large blank space of wall next to the data-pad. Scrolling through the yautja lettering, she found the selection she wanted and tapped it. The portion of the wall next to her shimmered and rippled as if the metal had turned to water before blinking into a dark mirrored surface. Looking at herself in the floor to ceiling mirror, Justice sighed. Her clothes were filthy with dirt and grime, and her braids, which hung to her waist, faired no better. Picking one up, she was beginning to pick out some of the dirt trapped within the coiled braid when the door to the apartment swooshed open again.

 Stepping in holding two black leather sacks, Jarak walked towards the kitchenette counter.

 "The other human women have provided you this," he waved a hand brusquely to the bags and stepped back.

 Justice looked up at him in surprise. "There are other humans on your planet?"

 Well, there goes that theory of her being the first to have collected such rare yautja information, she thought sorely.

 "Yes, Rakkah's mate and Akur's," he replied as if she knew the mentioned hunters.

 Too tired to delve into the subject, she began to reach for the sack as he turned back toward the door.

 "Wait, you're leaving?"

 Pausing, the towering hunter did not turn around as he answered. "Yes."

 Justice felt a twinge of guilt as she looked around the tiny space. "I don't want to kick you out of your room--your very small room," she added with a smile as he turned to look at her directly. "To be honest. I kind of expected you to put me in some sort of holding cell."

 His eyes glimmered in the shadow of his pronounced brow ridge, and his fanged mouth beneath his mandibles moved slightly. "We have no holding cell," he informed her seriously. "Yautja do not take prisoners."

 "Right," she nodded, crossing her arms and leaning on the counter to her right. "Yeah, you just kill whoever you don't like or send the rest to your creepy science ones."

 Jarak didn't argue that.

 Not sure what else to say, Justice looked away. "Where are you going to sleep?"

 "I do not currently require sleep," Jarak responded, his naturally aggressive tone at odds with the simple statement.

 "But what if you did and you wanted to sleep? I have no problem sleeping on a couch…" she paused, looking around the empty place once more. The front of the apartment was suspiciously empty as if it were designed for seating, but she would bet her last credit that the hunter used the bit of open space to train in. "Ok, floor," she corrected.

 "No," his deep tone was final.

 "Fine," she said, throwing up her hands and turning back towards the bed to sit next to Larsa. "I'm not going to argue with you. If you want to go sleep in a tree or whatever, be my guest."

 As if completely satisfied with that option, Jarak turned back around and began walking to the door.

 "Wait, how do I contact you," she called out just as the door opened. "...if one of your brethren tries to come in here or something happens and I might need you," she explained. "I would like it to be said I at least attempted not to go with my natural inclination of shooting first."

 Slowly, Jarak turned his head until one eye caught her gaze over his shoulder. "No one would dare come into my space."

 Like all statements from the hunter, the words were simple, but the meaning was lethal. Letting her gaze drop past the red tips of his long dread-like spines, she observed the strong striation of muscles corded along his wide back, tapering down to his narrow waist. Justice remembered the way the hunter had slung the adult xenomorph by its tail with ridiculous ease as if it were the size of a cat, and she couldn't imagine too many people or even other yautja crossing Jarak and surviving.

 Opening his data-pad on his gauntlet once more, he turned around fully and stepped back towards her until he stood only a foot away. Holding out his hand, he gave her a waiting look.

 Justice cocked her head in a smile as she obediently laid her hand in his. "How did you know what my rings were for?"

 With a gentleness that seemed wholly strange on the humongous crab faced alien, Jarak carefully turned her hand over until her palm pressed against his. Justice could feel the rough ridges of his tough skin press against hers and marvel at the heat that radiated through it. For something with no discernable heat signature, he sure was hot to the touch, she thought. Again that made her think of the amazing sleep she had against the creature the other night.

 Touching one of the two white and silver rings she wore on each hand, Jarak activated her personal computer.

 "I am yautja," his voice growled out over her like a rumbling blanket made of storms and thunder. "There is little I do not know."

 Watching him type on the holographic keyboard her ring projected, Justice gave him an evil grin that caught his attention. "But you didn't know what rent was."

 Entering the data with a gruff growl, Jarak turned on his heel and left.

 Inside the sacks, Jarak had brought her was proof enough that a human lived on the planet: two thermos-like containers filled with still warm food, bottles of shampoo and soap, a pillow, and even a few baby things.

 Justice stared at a stuffed giraffe and turned it over in her hand in absent thought. Were the yautja purposely bringing human women with children back to their planet? And if so, why? It couldn't be torture, she thought as she looked at the hastily written note on a piece of flimsy that she found in the bag as well. Supposedly the woman, named Ember, was more than excited to meet her. Following the helpful instructions on the flimsy, she walked up to the wall near the kitchenette and activated the data-pad, and searched for what the note told her. With a push of a button, a drawer popped out of the wall to her right, and Justice smiled.

 A basin that is what yautja called their washing units. Shaking her head in a smile, she thought it was fitting. A washing machine was much too verbose for the towering Jarak to say. Basin in his deep guttural voice was much more appropriate.

 Stripping off all of her clothes until she stood completely nude, Justice stuffed her clothes into the drawer-unit and activated the washing cycle. Walking back to the bed, she grabbed one of the sacks in one hand and scooped up Larsa in her other arm. Settling the grunting baby onto the pillow on the bathroom floor, Justice fiddled with the controls on the shower until a black wall raised from the floor. Stopping just above her knee, the half wall turned the bottom of the large black shower into a tub. Pressing a few more commands, Justice filled the tub with water before stepping in with a deep groan. Sitting down, Justice was surprised at the spaciousness of the tub. It was deep and perfectly long enough for her, which was rare indeed.

 Closing her eyes for a few precious seconds, she was about to let her head lie back against the wall when Larsa began to fuss. Adjusting so that breasts were pressed against the bathtub's wall and her arms were folded on the rim, Justice stared down at her daughter.

 Catching her mother's eye, Larsa opened her tiny toothless mouth and let out an agitated sound. Justice rummaged in the bag with one wet hand and pulled out the soft giraffe. Making little noises, she knew Larsa enjoyed, Justice danced the doll over the baby and played with her from the rim of the tub, letting the sight of the little girl's gummy smile soothe her.

 "We're in a new place," she whispered as she kissed the giraffe's mouth against the side of Larsa's cheek. "We are surrounded by big scary-looking hunters, but it will be ok," she said, repeating the kiss on the other fat cheek. "Soon, mommy will meet their leader and hopefully talk him into letting us stay for a little bit."

 Playing with her until she was content to quietly look around on her on, Justice grabbed the large sea-sponge that was tucked in the bag and dipped it in the water. Water dripped and splashed as she raised each leg to the surface of the deep tub and ran the soft sponge over her legs. Her mind drifted back to LV549 and the "woolly woolies" in the primigenius. The large docile tusked mammoths were most likely safe but no doubt scared and lonely. For a year now, she had been working with the beast, studying their glowing tusk and their behaviors. Over time she had become attached to them. Their liquid black eyes staring at her with eternal patience as she fed them their favorite leafy treats while she performed her never-ending scans. Even Larsa had learned to enjoy the large beast, engaging them in a battle of stares that made Justice's eyes feel dry just thinking about it. Now her mammoths were bound for an early death on the infested planet. Before she fled the lab, Justice had made sure to call all her mammoths in from the outside enclosure and back into the lab before sealing it off. Inside they would have access to their daily reserves of water and food, but the supplies would run out, and the poor, gentle beast would starve--if they were lucky. Justice could only pray that the xenomorphs wouldn't sense the beast through the reinforced walls of the lab and work their way inside.

 Standing up in the now tepid water, Justice paused, looking around. There were no towels. Did yautja not dry themselves with towels? That made no sense. No one this advanced and this meticulous with their technology walks around soggy after each shower, she thought resolutely. As the water drained at her feet, she stood naked and braced one hand against the wall as she jabbed a finger at the control-screen in the shower, going through the options. Stopping at one foreign yautja word, Justice repeated it a few times in her head, searching for a translation. Gusting? After a second, her eyes widened in realization, and she smiled. Pressing the button, she stood back. Narrow vents opened up along the sides of the shower stall, and warm air began to blow through them.

 Dry, she stepped out of the shower stall and scooped up Larsa and her things. Changing, cleaning, and getting Larsa ready for sleep, Justice walked naked across the room and found the "gusting" option for her now clean clothes. Letting it run its cycle, she walked back towards the bed and sank down on the mattress, letting the cool leather press against her naked skin. Rummaging through the second bag, Justice grinned at the folded sheet tucked at the bottom and flipped out, spreading it partially over Larsa.

 Positioning her gun to the right of her, Justice stifled a yawn as she took a big gulp of the soup from the thermos. Fatigue was catching up to her. She needed to be rested for tomorrow because if for some reason things went south, she would need more than enough energy to fight her way off yet another planet crawling with aliens.

 by katerina winters