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varpusvaras · 8 months ago

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Bail stares up at the sky and looks his death in the eye.

He wakes up with a start and almost falls down, but his descent is stopped by the edge of a desk that is suddenly right in front of him. He grabs at it and stops himself from hitting his chin on it, and stares, with his arms shaking and his breath caught up somewhere in his throat.

He is not sure how long he stands there, staring at the desk which sudden existence he cannot comprehend, when there is a sound somewhere to his left and footsteps coming closer.

"Bail?" It's a woman's voice, so familiar but one he knows he shouldn't be hearing speaking to him. "Sir?"

Bail lifts his head and looks over at the voice.

He looks right into Sheltay's face, currently laced over with thin worry.

Bail stares at her. She has been gone for so long, but her face is now clear in his mind and she stands there, just like she was back then, just like she was before they had lost her. He had almost forgotten how much Winter looks like her mother, but there is no doubt of it now.

A new fear grips him. Was Winter off planet, when it all happened? He is not sure suddenly. She must've been, because Bail isn't sure what he is going to say to Sheltay otherwise. He focuses on her again, and thinks, frantically. Shouldn't she know it already? If Winter is also gone, now, shouldn't Sheltay know it by now, shouldn't her daughter be here with her? No, no, Winter must've been off the planet, just like Leia, otherwise he-

Bail looks at Sheltay again. No. No, something is not- something is not correct. Sheltay had cut her hair, just a couple of weeks before the accident, but it is now long and tied high up, like she used to style it when she was still working on as his aide back in the Senate. Bail looks at her more closely. It has been so long since he has last seen her, but...

Sheltay looks truly concerned now.

"Sir?" She calls again, and takes a step closer. "Is everything alright?"

Is everything alright? Bail thinks, almost hysterically. Is everything alright? You are dead. I am dead. Or at least we both should be.

Sheltay doesn't look dead, though, and Bail certainly doesn't feel like dead, either, as he draws in a breath to his now burning lungs. He draws in another, then another, before he feels like he knows again how breathing properly works. Breathing shouldn't feel necessary for someone who was dead, and Bail does feel the instant relief in his body with every breath he takes in.

"I", he starts. He what? He doesn't know what to say. If this isn't what comes after death, what is supposed to happen when one becomes one with the Force, then what is this?

He breathes in deeply again, just to ground himself further. He looks down on his hands, still holding onto the desk. He recognises the desk, now. It's his desk, the one he used to have in his office back in the Senate. He looks furher down, towards his feet. He recognises the carpet beneath them, as well.

He lifts his head and looks around once more. He is in his office, back in the Senate Building, but something is not correct with it either. Leia had been the one using the office more often now, and she had changed some of the decorations and brought in things of her own, and none of those were there now. The place looks just like it had back when Bail had been the only one to use it, back in the days when the Republic had still been standing.

"Bail", Sheltay is now standing right next to him, and reaching out towards him with her hand. "Are you not well? Do I need to call someone?"

Bail looks at her again. Yes, he can now see it. She is younger than what she had been at the time of her death. She is not wearing any of the gifts her husband would so often give to her. She looks just like she had back then, back when the Republic had still been standing, back when the War had been ripping the Galaxy apart.

Bail turns around. He has a row of glass cabinets situated behind his desk, and he looks at himself from the reflection of them.

He had already expected it, seeing himself with all the years gained during the reign of the Empire taken away. There is not even a hint of grey in his hair, and there are so many lines missing from his face that he almost thinks it funny for a moment. Then Sheltay is grabbing his arm, forcing him to look back at her.

"I'm serious", she says. She is looking him over now, her eyes racing over him up and down. "Do you need a doctor?"

Bail shakes his head.

"No", he manages to say. "No, I- I just need to sit down for a moment."

He really does. He takes a step forward, to walk around his desk, and Sheltay guides him over to he couch and quite firmly sits him down.

"Do I need to call someone else?" Sheltay asks again. "Breha?"

Bail looks out of the window, at the pale colours of Coruscant's morning sky. He then glances at the chrono on the wall. It's still early on Alderaan, too early. Breha is not getting up usually until two hours later, earliest. Bail doesn't want to wake her.

It hits him then that in this place he is now, Alderaan is still there. Alderaan and Breha are still there-

-and Leia is not.

It's a strange type of grief he feels then, not one he had thought possible to even exist before this. Leia is not dead, but she is still gone just the same.

Sheltay probably sees him look at the time, as she nods.

"Later, then", she says. "Fox?"

Bail stops breathing.

He stares at Sheltay, because he had been looking at her and cannot make himself move now to look anywhere else.

How could he have forgotten? If Bail is here, if Sheltay is here, if Breha and Alderaan are here, then Fox is here as well.

"Fox", He tries out his name out loud, and Sheltay seems to take that as a confirmation, as she takes out her commlink and starts typing on it.

Bail manages to move, and takes the moment to look up the date.

It's- he is barely second year into the War. It doesn't seem logical, for him to be put in here, in this time, if he truly is dead, not if not for some kindness from the Force, giving him a glimpse of a time when he truly thought there was still a possibility for a brighter future to be right around the corner, when most of the people he loved were still there with him.

It's just strange, to have only him be aware of it all, and not Sheltay. Bail doesn't remember a day like this ever happening before, not that it matters, if this is just some illusion before he finally ceases to exist completely. It's strange, to make everything appear right like it was so long ago, and not like it had been just before his death. It was strange, to make himself feel so alive, just to have him be dead.

Perhaps, a thought enters his mind and doesn't leave. Perhaps you really aren't dead. Perhaps you're here because of all the mistakes you made, and you need to repent for them, before you can let go and move on.

It almost makes him laugh. That, he thinks, that he can do.

Sheltay puts her commlink away, and sits next to him on the couch.

"He said that he will be here as soon as he can", she says. She puts her hand on top of Bail's, and it's warm.

Bail breathes in and nods.

"Thank you", he says, and then it hits him that Fox is alive.

He had thought of it just a moment earlier, but now it truly realises for him that Fox is alive. He has been gone so long as well, so long, too long. Bail has already grieved him in his heart, to a point he has almost stopped hurting so much. Bail had thought, briefly, during his last moments, that perhaps they could still meet before the very end, if he just hadn't already crossed over to where there was nothing left, but this-

This is an entirely different thing.

He needs to call Breha and tell her, he thinks, briefly, before he has to wonder if Breha remembers either. If it's really just him. That does make the most sense, as Bail is the one who had done all the mistakes, not Breha.

Perhaps he's in his thoughts for longer than he thinks he is, because suddenly the door is sliding open, and Fox is stumbling in, his hands already pulling his helmet off of his head.

"I'm here", he says. He's breathing hard, like he had just been running. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure-" Sheltay starts, but Bail doesn't hear what she is saying. He stands up, and walks towards Fox. Fox, who is hurrying to put his helmet down on the desk, in order to get his hands free, and then walking towards him.

Bail looks at him as he walks. He remembers it all now, how Fox used to look back then during this time. The way his hair curls over his forehead, where the silver strands are on his temples, how his eyes shift from dark brown to golden when the sliver of sunlight from the window hits them just right. There are a few things missing, things that Bail knows only came later. The way his skin would be bruised just from pure exhaustion. The way he would be tense, even when he was trying to relax, just for a moment. This was, is, before all of that. This is before that one night, when everything had started to unravel. This is before Fox had started to cry himself to sleep every night, calling himself all the horrible names there existed in the Galaxy.

This is before all of that. Fox still looks just like he had when he had still looked at Bail and Breha with wonder in his eyes and a smile on his lips whenever they would say I love you.

He looks just as beautiful as Bail remembers.

Fox opens his mouth to say something, but he is so close already, and Bail cannot wait for anything. He pulls Fox into his arms and holds him, trying to feel him through the armor. He buries his face into Fox's neck, not caring about the cold, hard alloy of his pauldron digging into him, and thinks he can hear his heartbeat beneath the warm, tan skin.

There are hands on his back, then one at the back of his head.

"Bail?" He hears Fox's voice clearly from this close, even though he is speaking quietly, almost whispering. "Are you alright?"

Bail breathes in Fox's scent before answering, a mixture of regulation soap, bolt residue and armor polish and just him beneath it all.

"Yes."

"You're crying."

Oh. Bail lifts his face up, just a bit, and blinks. There are tears stuck to his eyelashes, heavy and warm, and he thinks he can see some having landed on Fox as well, if he looks closely enough.

"I'm sorry", he mumbles. It has been a while he has cried, or been overwhelmed like this. He had not given himself permission for being nothing else but calm, when he had heard about Leia being captured. He had not let himself cry when he had held Breha as they awaited for their death, no matter how much he had wanted to do so. Breha had needed him too much for him to fall apart even more.

"It's okay", Fox says. He is carding his fingers through Bail's hair. "What's going on?"

So much. So much is going on, and Bail doesn't know where or when to start.

He knows he needs to decide on those, sooner or later, but before any of that, he has one thing to say.

"I love you", he whispers against Fox's skin.

Fox stills, just for a moment, a moment long enough for Bail to wonder if the version of him Fox had known before in this time had even gotten to say it yet.

Then he continues, running his fingers up and down, his other hand on Bail's back holding onto him just a little tighter.

"I love you too", he whispers back. Bail closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he's ready to take on the Galaxy, once again.

#do you believe me if I say this was supposed to be just a short little snippet lmao #in the actual time travel fix-it idea I have in my head all three of them know and are aware #and the relationship is developing during the second life #but I wanted to write something where they were a thing before already and suddenly everybody is alive for one of them #I decided it was Bail's turn to cry lmao so he got picked for that role he deserves to be the babygirl for once #Fox and Sheltay are very concerned #but then Bail tells them that they gotta kill Palpatine and Fox is on board instantly #sw #tcw #my writing #ficlet #time travel au #one of a kind at least #Bail Organa #Commander Fox #bail/breha/fox #Sheltay Retrac #Star Writing

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lemoncrushh · 4 months ago

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Witchcraft

PART ONE NOW ON PATREON

Summary: Three hundred years after his twenty-first year on earth, Harry Styles awakens to realise his new fate, not one of a pop star, but that of a witch.

Part 1 Word Count: 5356

A/N: This is a story I started a while back. If you followed me here last year, you may remember it. I was going to wait til closer to October to repost it, but I've decided to put it on Patreon for now since I'm so behind with writing. A witchrry fic, written from his pov. Takes place in the future when Stevie Nicks is the leader of a coven.

Small sneak peek below...

Blackness. Pure dark midnight is all I see as I open my eyes. I know they’re open, though I can see nothing - no shapes or silhouettes of any kind. I’m not even sure if it’s my own bed underneath me, or if I’m actually lying on anything at all.

That’s when I hear it. It starts low, the faint muffled sounds of someone - or something. I try to lift myself, my hands grasping for whatever is beneath me, but it’s only then that I realise I’m no longer lying face down. Disoriented as I punch the air with my fist, I suddenly panic again, hoping for something to grab onto, or at least to see. Screaming into the silence, I find my voice is mute, no sound coming from my mouth, or even my chest.

The muffled sounds seem to get closer then, and I desperately reach out to where I think it’s coming from. A hand from nowhere suddenly touches mine, and forthwith my entire body begins to tremble.

Before I can protest and attempt to scream out again, the darkness slowly fades as though dawn has just broken. A golden light seems to shine up from beneath wherever it is I am lying, and two ebony eyes stare back into mine.

“It’s okay now,” a voice says, though I’m unsure if it belongs to the same figure from which the eyes belong. It sounds more like an echo from far away. “You’re safe.”

I attempt once more to make a sound, but all I can manage is a croak. I catch the red lips beneath the eyes curving up into a smile, and I’m suddenly affected by a warm sensation of contentment.

“You’re pretty,” she says.

“So are you,” I rasp, surprising myself.

She laughs, a lovely coo that excites me.

“Save your voice, love.”

I would say more despite her demand, if not for the three other figures entering the space. Turning my head - which is no doubt being cradled by the softest pillow known to man - I catch a glimpse of more lovely creatures. My heart skips a beat when it recognises the one in the center.

“Ooh, good choice, mum, he’s a dish!” exclaims the tall male figure on the right.

“Hush, Victor,” chides the middle one, a petite woman with a timeless face and hair like spun gold. “I didn’t choose him. I told you. He was already chosen.”

The woman with ebony eyes beside me, still holding my hand, gleefully chuckles once again.

“Yes,” she sings as her long fingernails graze my flesh. “Besides, he’s mine anyway. I already decided.”

“Isabel-” Victor snaps.

“Hush! The both of you!” demands the one in charge. The queen. Though my thoughts are still unintelligible, my brain still fuzzy, I know this to be true.

Her face softening quickly, leaving no trace of indignation, she steps forward. As if on cue, Isabel leaves her post, taking a new place next to Victor and the one who has yet to make a sound.

“Harry, my child,” smiles the queen as she leans forward, taking my hand. The feeling of deja vu comes over me as I hear her say my name, though I cannot quite place hers. “Welcome. We have been waiting for you.”

“Waiting…” I cough. “Where- where am I?”

“Home,” she replies, as if that was the most obvious answer.

Looking into her eyes, I study them. Though not as dark as Isabel’s, they are still a lovely chocolate shade. My gaze examining the rest of her face, I notice lines but not wrinkles. Her face is porcelain, her lips perfectly shaped. I know this face, I remind myself.

My eyes shift to her hand wrapped around mine, covered in a lace glove. Fingerless. Red fingertips. Again, familiar. Everything looks and feels recognisable about her, just as familiar as my own mother or the tattoos inked on my skin.

“I...I know you, don’t I?” I finally manage to ask, my throat incredibly wretched and sore.

“Of course, darling,” she beams at me. And almost instantaneously, I know, before she speaks it herself. “I’m Stevie Nicks.”

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

Also, if you enjoy my writing, please consider joining my Patreon!

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starsandgutters · 3 months ago

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Flash Ficlet requests! Oh okay thinking time now…Kevin hopelessly pining after Aaron…I love all of your writing…what to say, what to say…

May I ask about Kevaaron meeting each other before Neil gets recruited? (honestly I’d be happy with anything the way you write them brings me so much joy anytime I read any of it <333)

I wasn't sure if you wanted this canon based or in an AU where they get together instead of Aaron with Katelyn, so I've just left it open ended. I actually think Aaron really didn't like Kevin at the start, and Kevin just didn't care about Aaron. He was too insignificant to him for him to have feelings about.

CWs: Implied abuse Depiction of an anxiety attack Blood mention

Aaron has seen Kevin Day before. Through a screen, yes, multiple times, but also when he came to try and recruit Andrew. As much as he made an impression of a stuck up, arrogant, conceited bitch, Aaron could admit that he knew how to play. His speed and strength on the court were impressive, but he had grace as well, movements fluid despite his size.

Mostly. Aaron noticed sometimes he tensed when he moved too suddenly, or that certain moves held a stiffness to them. Aaron recognised that. Aaron spent a lot of his teens moving around like that, after all. It could have just been injuries from training, the Ravens were hardly known for their clean games, but it made Aaron wonder.

His suspicions are confirmed when Wymack brings Kevin to the Foxhole Court for the first time. Gone is the superior facade. Kevin Day has been stripped down to a damaged, skittish animal, clutching his injured hand to his chest and warily eying the team. Wymack runs through introductions, tells them Kevin’s going to be assistant coach going forward. A feeble excuse to get him a scholarship, Aaron’s sure. Special privileges for exy’s special little boy. He keeps his gaze set on Kevin the whole time, watching how he holds his left hand in his right, thumb rubbing over the support bandage around it.

Kevin does not look at Aaron. People rarely do. So he is free to observe all he wants.

Any ounce of sympathy Aaron may have managed to scrounge together for Kevin quickly evaporates once he finds his voice. He’s an absolute ass, meticulously tearing each of their play styles apart, heavy on the criticism and light on the constructive. The Foxes are vicious to him in response, and Aaron can’t blame them. He mostly stays out of the arguments, unless Kevin turns his yapping on him directly, then he bares his teeth and snaps back.

Andrew seems endlessly amused by the whole ordeal. He acts unaffected by Kevin’s attitude. Regardless of how hard Kevin tries, he cannot get Andrew to care about this game. Aaron could have told him to save himself the hassle. Andrew doesn’t care about anything since they doped him up on those fucking meds. Aaron thinks they’ve done more harm than good.

Off the court Kevin is only fractionally less irritating. He makes stilted, awkward attempts at conversation, always giving the impression he thinks he’s above them, that he’s lowering himself in talking to them. He never asks anyone questions about themselves, either. Just talks about his interests. Aaron takes any chance he can to contradict him.

“You’re not working on the things I told you to,” Kevin says.

“You’re not my coach or my captain.”

“I’m your assistant coach.”

“We all know that’s just an excuse for Wymack to keep you here after your little boo boo.”

“What the fuck is your problem? Is it the height? You’ve got some kind of Napoleon complex?”

It is, ironically, a low blow. Kevin’s leaning over Aaron, expression warped into one of anger. In spite of the responding anger stirring in Aaron’s body, he smirks.

“Napoleon was actually around 5’6, which was average for French men of his time. And the Napoleon complex has been disproved. Studies show short men are actually less likely to lose their temper compared to taller men. Maybe you should check your facts before you open your mouth.”

Kevin blinks, like he didn’t expect that, like Aaron has caught him off guard. Of course. Everyone always underestimates him. What else is new?

“Then what’s your excuse?”

“I don’t need an excuse. You’re a dick. I’m just reflecting your energy back.”

Kevin goes from an annoyance Aaron has to deal with for a small segment of his day, to enemy number one when Andrew decides to adopt him. They’ve made some deal that ends up with Andrew and Kevin attached at the hip, meaning Aaron is now faced with Kevin Day everywhere. In the car, at Eden’s, sleeping on the couch in their fucking house, the one place that should have been Aaron’s sanctuary. Andrew had made a deal with Aaron first. Just the two of them, sticking together until graduation, but apparently Kevin gets the special privilege of being an exception.

What’s worse than Kevin trailing Andrew around like a lost lamb is when Andrew leaves him with Aaron. Aaron really feels that at his big age Kevin should not need babysat, and yet that seems to be what happens on a frequent basis.

Aaron has mastered the art of sitting in stony silence with people, but petulant princess Kevin Day can only last so long before he talks, and talks, and pushes at Aaron’s buttons until he finally responds. And okay, maybe Aaron doesn’t really talk to people that much outside of school, bar Nicky. Andrew barely looks at him, and their deal keeps him isolated enough that making friends is a challenge. Aaron reflects spitefully on how this is yet another thing that doesn’t apply to Andrew, who befriended Renee during their first year.

Fuck double standards, actually. Maybe he should just allow that spite to direct him into befriending Kevin as a petty pushback at Andrew. I made a friend too, and what’s worse, mine is your little pet project.

“Fuck sake, Day, don’t you come with an off button?”

It would probably be a more effective endeavour if Aaron were not an asshole.

A glass shattering in the kitchen makes Aaron start. His heart rate rockets up. Years of smashed glasses, plates, slamming doors come rushing back to him, jangling his nerves. He breathes shakily. Reminds himself she’s gone now, he’s okay, it’s just Kevin in the kitchen.

“What did you break?” he calls, but gets no answer. Cautiously Aaron gets to his feet and makes his way to the kitchen. Kevin is standing by the broken remains of the glass, staring down at it. He’s clutching his left wrist, hands trembling as he hyperventilates. There are tears in his eyes but he hasn’t let any of them fall. Aaron was not prepared to see Kevin’s vulnerability put on display like this, such a far throw from how he’s used to seeing him. He feels his skin tighten and tense with discomfort as the hateful image of Kevin in his mind starts to splinter and crack apart. Kevin’s head turns towards him, eyes wide like a cornered animal. He ducks down towards the glass, still gasping breaths.

“Don’t.”

Too late. Kevin’s in no state to be cautious with it, and the first shard of glass he touches slices his finger open. He draws it back swiftly. Aaron thinks it’s probably a shallow wound, but it’s bleeding a lot already. He catches Kevin by the arm and hauls him up, pulling roughly when Kevin tries to resist.

“I’m helping you, dickhead. Come on.”

Kevin tries to glare at him, but with his watery eyes and short, gasping breaths, he’s really not intimidating. Aaron pushes him down into one of the kitchen chairs. He wraps some kitchen roll around Kevin’s bleeding finger, guiding his other hand over to press against it. Kevin’s hands are surprisingly warm against Aaron’s, whose fingers are always cold.

“Stay. Keep pressure on that,” he says, and runs off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. The only movement Kevin does in his absence is curl in over himself, his back visibly shaking when Aaron comes back. “No, no, you need to sit upright. Come on.”

Aaron pushes at his shoulder, but Kevin resists, curling tighter into himself. Aaron represses a sigh. He tries to soften the impatient edge out of his voice. He can do this. This is what he wants to do, after all. Look after people. He tries to imagine he’s talking to a frightened child instead of Kevin, tries to envision how he would approach that differently.

“Hey. You’re going to be okay. Kevin, do you hear me? It’s going to be okay, but I need you to sit back for me now. It’s harder to breathe in that position. If you sit up straight it’ll open your airways more. Can you sit up for me?” Aaron tries again, this time with a more gentle touch to Kevin’s shoulder, guiding him up instead of pushing. Kevin looks at him, eyes unsteady, face blotchy. Aaron holds his gaze, trying to keep his face even. “There. That feels better, doesn’t it? Next you need to get some more air in.”

Kevin lifts his hands without letting go of the bloody kitchen roll. He taps them against his chest. Aaron nods.

“I know your chest is hurting, but that’s because you’re not getting enough oxygen. We’re going to do some deep breaths together. You just follow me. The first few are going to suck, but they’ll get easier.” Aaron makes a show of breathing loud and exaggerated. Kevin struggles to mimic him at first, still only getting small, jumping breaths. “Come on, Kevin. You can do this.”

Gradually Kevin’s inhales get longer. Aaron keeps going until Kevin is breathing deep and steady, though there’s still a slight rattle on his exhales.

“Good. That’s better. I’m going to clean your finger now-”

“I can do it.” Kevin pulls his hand back when Aaron reaches for it. Aaron gives him a flat, unimpressed look.

“I’m sure you can, but I’m going to.” He grabs Kevin’s forearm. He knows most of the damage was done to his hand, but there are that many connections to the wrist, Aaron’s sure he probably feels pain there too. He’s seen Kevin clutching it a few times. It’s harder to get the leverage to pull his hand back with his forearm, but Aaron manages. “This might sting when I disinfect it.”

Aaron is sure it does, but Kevin sits silent and impassive as he cleans up the blood. He gets a better look at the cut, and like he thought, it seems fairly shallow. It’s just bled a lot. Aaron puts a bandaid on it just in case the movement of Kevin’s hand causes more bleeding.

“Keep that on for tonight, then put a fresh one on in the morning.” Aaron takes a strip of bandaids out of the kit and hands them to Kevin. Kevin takes them without thanks, but he does meet Aaron’s gaze, something unrecognisable in his face. It’s a world away from the haughty expression that is usually cast Aaron’s way.

Padding downstairs as quietly as he can, Aaron makes his way to the kitchen for a drink of water. He’d startled awake from a bad dream with dry mouth. There’s light from the living room as he passes through. Kevin glances over from where he’s sitting on the couch. There’s an infomercial playing on loop on the TV.

Aaron brings his water through and sits on the armchair. He lifts the remote, glancing at Kevin, but Kevin makes no protest. He looks like he’s just been zoning out with the screen on. Aaron flicks through channels until he comes across Jurassic Park. He doesn’t know why they’re playing it as this god awful hour, but he leaves it on.

“I loved this when I was little,” Kevin says after they’ve been watching for ten minutes.

“Yeah? Me too. What’s your favourite dinosaur?”

“T-Rex. Obviously.”

“Ugh. Basic and predictable.”

“Why, what’s yours?”

“Ankylosaurus.” When Kevin stays quiet, Aaron elaborates: “It’s the armoured one with a club on its tail.”

“I wanted to be an archaeologist when I was little.”

“Makes sense.”

“What did you want to be?”

“A lot of silly things.”

“Like what?”

“When I was really young, a zookeeper. Then a vet. Astronaut lasted quite a while. Marine biologist was only for a few years, before high school.”

“What did you end up studying?”

Aaron looks across, surprised. He didn’t realise Kevin doesn’t know what he’s studying. He probably should have. It’s not like Kevin ever asked, or like he’s shown any interest in Aaron before. It just feels like such a big presence in Aaron’s life, it’s strange for others not to know.

“I’m pre-med. Majoring in bio sciences.”

“Makes sense,” Kevin says after a moment, and graces Aaron with one of his rare smiles. Aaron blames the sleep deprivation for the way he instantly smiles back.

#kevaaron #fox fics #I say flash fic as if I’m capable of writing anything short 💀

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alpydk · 4 months ago

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Tattered Souls

Gale x Rugan - Pining, strangers (mostly) to lovers, angst, romance

So, the part from yesterday and this one already went up on Ao3 but didn't put the rest here, so have the other 1200 words of it. Then I can start posting properly... Currently, at 7000 words. Oops.

Days passed, and the markets of Waterdeep were busy, the perfect location for picking pockets and making an easy bit of gold. Stall owners haggled with the tourists, regular city folk looked for the best deals on fruit and vegetables, and Rugan watched as a young woman opened her purse, taking out a few gold pieces to pay for some overpriced tat which lay on the bench before her. He ignored the ache in his stomach, his last gold piece wasted on the ale at the tavern the night before. He knew it had been a stupid decision, but then he seemed to have been full of them in the recent months since leaving the Sword Coast. Watching the way the purse weighted down at her side, he guessed her to have around twenty gold pieces, maybe a little more, if he was lucky. He sided up next to her, his gaze passing over the trinkets in front of them both, and then, with no hesitation, turned suddenly towards her as he leant over the stall, knowingly bashing into her. “Oh, my apologies, lass. Eyes just aren’t what they used to be.” She looked into his pale blue eyes, his gravelly voice an instant distraction from the way his hand clutched at her purse. “No, it’s quite alright.”

He nodded his head politely, the charming smile working its magic upon her and with it he pulled himself away from her and the vendor, the small bag of gold tucked between his hand and the leather of his belt. He walked away into the crowd of bustling market goers, his mind already working out where to spend the money, what he felt like to eat and, more importantly, drink.

It was as he passed the darkened alley he felt the hand on his arm, warm and firm, pulling him out of the flow of people and into the narrow-sheltered passage between the towering buildings of the city. The gold he’d been counting in his palm was clutched tightly to avoid losing it; more of a worry over where the next coin would come from next rather than the fear that the Zhentarim he’d escaped from had found him.

Rugan felt his body uncomfortably pulled close to that of another, the broad shoulders and grip upon him warning him this was not going to be some nimble prostitute he’d run out on weeks prior. His instincts kicked in, his muscles tensing and holding him firm in position to avoid being captured or beaten. The gold was held tightly as his other hand reached for the steel dagger at his side. The one upon him loosened ever so slightly, an acknowledgement that he was armed and would not be taken so easily, and he breathed a small sigh of relief, trying to back up towards the crowds again.

“Wait.”

Rugan knew the voice, and with it recognised the smell of musty tomes and black coffee, not one he was used to when in so close a proximity to another person. He’d expected one of his former associates, perhaps even the Guild to be after him. What he hadn’t expected as he looked up and focussed through the shadows was to see that of the dark-haired wizard, a navy suit adorned with silver embroidery, standing in the dingy alleyway with a palm resting upon his upper arm. The hand fell from his side and although the stress left him with the knowledge he wouldn’t be captured today, a fleeting sense of loss passed by as he felt the warmth disappear from his body. “The exploding wizard returns. Didn’t think kidnapping was your style, though.”

Gale scoffed at him. “Someone must keep you in check, unless you’ve taken to adorning yourself with women’s purses now?”

A delicate finger was pointed towards the now empty purse, the knowing look, one making Rugan feeling judged for his actions. It was a feeling he was used to over his years of mercenary work, but from Gale, it made him almost feel…guilty. “A gift from a friend, none of your business, that’s for damn sure.”

Gale took a step closer to him, cracks of light shining over his features, his eyes almost glowing as if the Weave danced within and he gave a subtle smile. “So not pilfered from the young lady I saw you with?”

“Even it was; got nothing to do with you.”

Trying to step back a little was met with reflected steps, almost a dance within the confines of the shadows. Rugan halted his steps, Gale halted his, neither wanting the cat and mouse between them to end and yet neither wanting to point out the very clear hollyphant in the room. The air felt charged between them, the silence heavy, and neither moved as they waited for each to take the next step in their unspoken tango.

It was the sound of a woman shouting in the market that drew both from the tension. Rugan pocketed the gold in his palm, turning to look out from the alleyway. He could see the guards in the sunlight, the young woman he had stolen from explaining all she had lost and trying to recount where she’d been previously. It was only a matter of time before she figured out it was him. He considered merging himself into the crowd again and then finding a bar a little further away from the marketplace, possibly a brothel for the night if luck went his way, though it would need to be cheap. The hand on his shoulder pulled him back and the stern voice of Gale drew his senses.

“Give her back the gold and inform her you found her purse in the near vicinity.”

“Or, and this is just an idea, I could not.” Rugan could feel hunger stirring again, his temper fraying the more time he wasted. He wanted to slip into the crowd and vanish again, but something held him back, a whisper in the back of his mind, a longing stirring within that he tried to ignore. “Why did you even grab me anyhow? Was it just to lecture me on the ethics of pick pocketing?”

Gale stood close, his dark eyes reading the situation, knowing that no matter what he said, Rugan wouldn’t hand back that gold taken unless given something else in return. His heart beat a little quicker, a fleeting memory of his control the other night passing through him. “Lecturing is one of my better qualities, I’ll admit, otherwise it was to barter with you. You hand back the gold and I will, with copious amounts of wine, cook for you.”

The guards began to patrol the marketplace looking for anyone suspicious and Rugan knew his chance of getting away without drawing attention had gone. He could feel the rumble of his stomach, the thought of something home cooked and not just cheap salted pork being on the menu, a very tempting choice after so long in murky taverns. He looked over at Gale and sighed. “Just food, little conversation.”

“Of that, you have my good word.”

Pulling the gold from his pocket, he eyed it up one last time, seeing the night of the brothel vanish before his eyes, and slipped it back into the purse. “You better be a decent cook.”

Y al final nada queda por perder Nada queda por saber, ya lo vez La soledad se convertira en tu hogar Y en la calle aprenderas la verdad

Y al final que queda por saber Ya lo vez,lo vez, lo vez

---

And in the end nothing is left to lose Nothing remains to be known, now Solitude will become your home And in the street you will learn the truth

And in the end what remains to be known You see it, you see it, you see it

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios #bg3 rugan #zhentweave #the rarepair only i want #Spotify

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minecraft-bee-go-buzzzz · 2 years ago

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why consume and/or actually make content when you can just make sillly aus in your head mmmm?

(this gets REALLY long-)

anyway life series au idea with the winners not dying!

Not that they dont try. Grain still jumps off Monopoly Mountain believing that it’d end the game. Scott still suddenly falls to the ground clutching his chest. Pearl still gets blown away thanks to the explosion. Martyn still runs out of time.

But they dont die.

Grian falling backwards, landing on his wings, knocking himself out. hours later waking up with broken wings in so much pain and theres... a bit of blood. Not knowing what to do now he’s somehow lived he stays in whats left of the base. And one day, the border falls. Theres nothing left here for him, so he leaves.

Scott wakes up somewhere he does not recongise. He remembers passing out, ya know, outside. after killing people. And he thought he died- Now he’s in some house, a building style he doesn’t recognise. Somewhere that actually looks like they tried when building. And then a man he swore he recongised came upstairs, in some odd clothes, offering food and water and a place to stay.

Pearl met a brutal should be end. I mean yeah she died because Scott did, felt the pain scott did. but she also was right next to the explosion, and it hit her. felt his and her own pain, died from him both because he died and exploded her. So it was fair to say the last thing ever expected was to wake up to see him worrying over her half destroyed body.

Oh Martyn. Killing his ally and hunting Impulse down. The clock still ticks. Just so, so much louder. There’s no one else around, nothing going on. all that he hears is the wind in his ears and the ticking in his head. He doesn’t really leave where he killed them. Just waits. They aren’t getting some dramatic send off. They can wait around as long as they like ‘till he drops once his hard earned time is spent. Though once it’s gone, once he runs out of time... why doesnt he die? And why can he hear familiar voices in the distance?

Now im unsure how i want the winners living but still being in the games to work. I have 2 ideas but I this current one I vibe with more-

Current idea: the watchers created these doubles to play in the winner’s place, to keep around the same amount of players and to keep some fun dynamics. Once you win the double will continue to play in your place for the rest of the games.

The winners continue to live outside the games and once enough of them build a small community. they only remember the game they won, and are all very conflicted on how they feel about each other.

everyone else who didn’t win is doomed to play over and over again trapped in the watcher’s game never remembering the one before.

Also, the winners stay ‘red’. how much the red affects them depends on the person.

(idea i have atm is, funny enough, the order the games happen. Grian is the least affected, then scott, then pearl and Martyn the most)

How all the winners find each other?

So taking the Grian is a watcher idea and fucking sprinting with it-

Grian after spending a few days alone in the desert, the watchers have moved on. they are somewhere else feasting, no longer there to bother grian (he wasn’t doing anything anymore. just moping. so boring-) but also no longer there to hold him back.

so after those days he kinda comes back to his watcher powers, or well some of them. And why keep himself locked up in a border when he can just get rid of it and run away from his problems (dead friends, destroyed home-)

And the first time he comes across another game is an accident. He finds the border and having not set it up himself (he doesn’t know if he could. never had a reason to try) And stays around the area, sets up a tent and waits for the border to fall.

Once it does. he searches. The watchers dont know, they’ve left. nothing to stay for, time for a feast. But grian looks, finds ruins that remind him of home and it hurts. But he finds someone. someone that, yeah. yeah he knows him. Scott. but it’s not Scott. Not the Scott he knew atleast.

That Scott was sooner caught dead than missing his ring.

But, it’s still a survivor. A winner. And if the blood stained ground is to go by, he went down swinging.

but he’s not dead. he’s alive. he’s unconscious, but breathing.

And Grian’s already lost everyone. this is the first person he’s seen in months. call him selfish, but he doesn’t want to be alone again. so he decides to help this new Scott. Also, maybe he could learn what happened. Get a bit of an understanding on what these sick games really are.

He carries Scott to his home he’s built. Took a while, such long distances still sucked without flight, but the wait for him to wake up was even worse. The chance he wouldn’t? horrible. so Grian ignored it-

But Scott did wake up, and paniced he was to see Grian alive and well, even if his choice of outfit was off. The idea of some form of revenge for Scott being the one to win instead of him was the first thing to cross his mind. like, it’s still Grian. and Grian’s still red.

But he just asks questions, and provides food, and gives answers when Scott asks things himself. Neither seem to be a threat to each other, as there is no benefit in killing the only other person who seems to understand any of this mess. Plus, gaining the knowledge there were two Grian’s, and this one was not the one he personally knew, well, he had no reason to trust him but also none to not.

So Scott stays around. Builds his own house near by Grian’s after the first few weeks. And whenever one explores they make sure to keep an eye out for a border, and ready to alert the other should they find one.

And give it some time, find another they shall.

Double life had ended a bit ago at that point. Scott found the border when he over heard familiar voices near by it. He waited around for Grain to show up and by the time he did the game was over, and with ease he took the border down (yet again no other watchers there to stop him, to busy eating to care)

I doesnt take long to find Pearl but both are quite upset at the sight. Clearly not as somewhat peaceful they had been given. half her face blown to bits and an arm that looks like it wont work the way it use too even with serious help.

While Scott checks her over and Grain looks are their cords to figure how far they are from their little set up, she wakes up instantly panicked. Panicked but also in to much pain to acutally fight back.

And, like, Pearl had been torturing her soulmate for weeks by that point. She’d recognise him. And while the man looking at her certaintly LOOKED like Scott, it was NOT her Scott. It was not the soulmate that left her behind.

Her soulmate wouldn’t look so worried over her state considering he caused it.

Pearl doesn’t take the whole winners live on thing as well as the first too did. not that they took it well, but they kinda just accepted it mostly silently and got on with it. Pearl yells, she cries. That it was all for nothing.

That they could’ve seriously just lived and got along.

Did no one have to die?

Doesn’t help she’s in absolute agony. where her body is actually hurt is completely messed up, but the rest in pain from feeling like she blew up.

They stay around the double life set up untill they deem pearl stable enough both mentally and phyiscally to go back to what they’ve made home.

She’s fairly open about what happened in her game. atleast compered to Grian and Scott, which had both hardly talked about their personal teams or teams that involved the other from their games.

She told them about how she went with Martyn to the nether which was why Scott and Cleo left them to go be soulmates together instead, how she had tilly, and then Martyn killed her. How all the other players thought she was mad.

All she wanted was her dog and a friend.

She bonds pretty well with both Scott and Grian, Scott talking about his pearl and how they were allies, and that clearly this fake scott was a coward, and Grian makes a few jokes about pizza and what they went through for that llama.

Once she’s better they head back to their little safe place. Fairly early on Pearl decides to build another tower, a smaller tower, but she still has her tower. She even gets some new dogs! She was scared to at first. But this wasn’t a death game anymore, Scott and Grian gained nothing from killing her animals. it was safe to have them.

Now, after three times, chances are it’s happening again. They dont exactly look forward to it, but when pearl gives the heads up her dogs found another border and sends her cords over the other two are there within a day or two.

This time it takes a while for the game to end. They dont see much, dont get the notices on their communicators, dont really have a clue whats going on until Grian manages to get rid of the border. Execpt this time the Watchers left alot quicker, almost instantly.

Seems they were already bored.

The three spread out hoping to find the Winner quicker this way, each person having one of pearl’s dogs go with them for safety.

And when Scott found Martyn sat there with blood on his hands, staring at them in utter disbelief he wasn’t expecting to be attacked on sight by the man once noticed.

Something about “you ran out of time, how are you back we ran out of time we shouldn’t be here-”

Seems there was yet again a fun gimmick for the new game.

As Scott’s trying to tell Martyn to chill and keep him from killing Pearl’s dog, the other two both appear having met up running towards the yelling. Now, these people are mostly decked out in enchanted diamond gear, and they have dogs! Martyn’s not stupid. He wont win. he puts his sword away and hands in the air for surrender.

Now, if they thought Pearl took the winner’s living thing bad, boy did Martyn just snap.

Because every single other person in his game had died. They didn’t technically run out of time. two fell to their deaths, the others were murdered. So, for all Martyn knew, he just betrayed his closest ally for a win that ment nothing.

Because for all he knew, they could’ve all lived.

Martyn wasnt too willing to just go with these strangers. yeah, they may look like the people he knew. They might technically be the original versions of them- but what have they done to earn his trust! Show up and threaten him- well he did attack scott first bUT! His dead teammate he just killed showed up again when he should’ve been perma dead! it was a fair reaction.

So they had to spend a little time convincing him, no problem. And once the mention of watchers came up and the borders, grian’s ‘ability’ to take them down, suddenly the fourth winner was all for hanging around with them. (also very much hinting to grian he knew a watcher’s eyes when he saw them- even if scott and pearl didn’t seemed to know for sure yet)

Martyn does still come back with them and set up his own little hut next to a pond he decorated (tropical fish, pufferfish, coral and kelp). it’s further away than the others are but their all okay with that. His red tendencies can still get a little out of hand sometimes, best to keep a little distance when that happens.

This au either continues sad as shit with these lot slowly talking about things that happened and coming to terms about how they didn’t know what would happen at the end, maybe they could’ve all happly lived but thats not what happened and maybe they cant forget everything and everyone but its about time to move on.

silly fun times where the winners all fuck around and have fun. ignore the trauma, enjoy life. have the friends you were never aloud to keep before. Build the amazing house you always wanted, having all the dogs you could ever need. Your alive! Live a little! Enjoy it! until the next border’s found

Or maybe a mix of both-

#life series #third life #last life #double life #limited life #limited life spoilers #au #post ended up alot longer than planned but heyyyy angst #pspspsps #also while the scott in this au doesn't know/remember anything about flower husbands grian DOES #so it's mentioned #also pearl's new dogs are defaintly named things like Lily and Millie #maybe one called matilda :)#some sought of au around the winners living a life #they are not happy to being living life #but they are

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spiritedgoat · 1 year ago

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Something Lost and something Found part2

You followed the man back to a small apartment on the second floor, it was on the corner of the building with it's own small balcony overlooking the streets from above.

'Was he a jujutsu sorcerer? he could definitely see your cursed energy residuals just as much as you could see his as soon as he called out to the little girl. His cursed energy level is a lot higher than any of the normies you see everyday and its not leaking which means he can control his out put. So he must at the very least been a sorcerer?' Your thoughts circulated your head following the man to his residence.

It felt weirdly comforting seeing the image of them walking in front of you. Geto was walking in the middle with a little girl on each side holding his hand. Mimiko still had the doll you gave her clutched to her side.

"Still with us?" a voice came from the front Suddenly you were shook from your daydream staring at them realising you'd already stopped in front of the door. Waiting to enter. You followed the man into his apartment, it was pretty neat on the inside, very minimalistic but nicely decorated. Looking around you noticed most of the things were the girls' stuff.

"Do you want to sit outside, it gets a bit hot in here" Geto suggested. You agreed with a soft smile, trying to be less blatantly looking around his home.

Geto served you both a cup of black tea while the girls were playing with each other sucking on ice lollies.

You liked the little balcony, it was nice feeling the light breeze on you while you sipped your tea. The little seating area was surrounded by different types of potted plants, some were herb plants too from what you could see.

"Thank you for the tea, it's really nice" Geto smiled softly, sipping from his own cup.

"So you were a jujutsu sorcerer you said?" Geto asked, he seemed curious of you.

You breathed in another deep breath, it felt strange to be able to talk someone outside of the school walls who actually knew about the jujutsu world. If you tried that around any of the non sorcerers , they definitely would've thought that you'd lost it.

"I was, but I gave that up."

Geto looked more curious by your answer. "I'm guessing you were on a sort like path as me?"

He looked you over for a second before opening his mouth "More than you'd think. What jujutsu school did you attend?"

He didn't look older than you, so you assumed you should've been in school at the same time.

"Kyoto" you answered "Ah that makes more sense, wanted to say I don't think I recognise you from Tokyo."

You finished your tea placing the cup down onto the table sitting back into the chair. You were getting more curious now too.

"Left the world of sorcery for a special lady and settle down?" you asked with a lightness in your tone. Geto chuckled, it was that of amusement, he shook his head still laughing.

"No, no wife. I left because I felt different from the other sorcerers at jujutsu high"

You smiled at the fact you made him laugh though it was a serious question, judging from the outside it's what anybody would've thought.

"Yeah I get that."

He squinted at you leaning back into his chair. "So why'd you leave then? Husband and children?" you could sense the hint of amusement to his voice

You started laughing shaking your head.

"No ,no and definitely no kids, they've never really been my forte…I'm not too good with them." you answered looking at the two girls playing, Mimiko was playing with the doll you gave her while Nanako was styling Mimiko's hair into little braids.

"Didn't seem like that earlier. Mimiko doesn't like nor trust anyone for that matter, much less talk to anyone other than myself or Nana" Geto replied tilting his head to the side.

You looked at them for a little while longer before looking back at the man sitting across from you.

"Why'd you really leave?" You looked down for a moment looking at your hands before looking back at him

"I left because I felt different from the rest too. There's no purpose in trying to protect those who don't want your protection when they fight amongst their own weak selves and kill the wrong ones for being different" saying the words left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Geto's face grew softer, a look of understanding flickered in his eyes mixed with some tender emotions.

"Master Geto! Look!" Nanako yelled excitedly grabbing onto Geto's arm.

Nanako pulled Mimiko closer by the hand ,showing off her proud work. Mimiko's hair was braided into all directions. You couldn't help but smile supressing the chuckle that crept up your throat.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, shining a beautiful orange hue over the city "It's getting pretty late, I should probably get going soon" you felt strangely comfortable talking to Geto. He was kind and gentle….and a little handsome you'd admit.

"Don't you want food!?" Nanako turned around gripping her little hands on the arm rest of the chair. Looking up at you with big eyes full of innocence.

You smiled at the little blonde girl, "I cant just intrude on your dinner, but thank you for asking me"

"You're welcome to stay, I'm making Takoyaki with cucumber salad and Tamagoyaki . Can't guarantee it'll be good but it won't kill you." Geto stated with a smile.

The food sounded delicious, especially since the last few months you've solely been living on instant noodles.

Sorry for the late post I wanted to get this up so much earlier but just couldn't get to it for so long because my life has been an absolute flaming shit show this last while. BUT hopefully I'll be able to post more frequently :D

#fluff #agnst #getosuguru #getouxreader #jjk #jujutsukaisen

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danielfuckingricciardo · 3 years ago

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Before He Cheats - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Pairing - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Word count - 4.9k

Content warning - swearing (lots of), drinking (lots of), sex (lots of)

Synopsis - Reader caught her boyfriend cheating, but with Daniel Ricciardo out celebrating a win, it’s difficult to stay glum.

Author’s note - I started this at like half eleven, it’s three in the morning now but I was very determined to finish this. It’s very spicy, very touchy feely too if you like that sort of thing. Feel like it’s probably a medium on the Nando’s spice scale tbh, with mild being hand holding and extra hot being BDSM. Haven’t written straight smut in a while, so I’m a little rusty, forgive me. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Inspired by Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood

“A double whiskey on ice and an old fashioned please.” You shout to the bartender over the noise of the club. The man nods and busies himself with making your drink. You sigh and check your phone, sixty-six miscalls and 123 texts. Pathetic. You scoff and throw your phone back into your clutch bag as the bartender returns with your drinks. You throw back the whiskey and slam the glass back down on the counter. “Celebrating in style, huh?” The bartender asks. “Something like that, yeah” You respond, nodding your head at the bartender and heading out onto the floor of the club.

While you weren’t exactly feeling your best, you’d felt almost obliged to come along and join the party. It’s not often that your team gets a win, so when you do, boy do those McLaren guys know how to party. And they invite everyone, even you, the lowly social media intern. Everyone would have totally thought you to be a misery guts had you not at least showed your face, and while you were truly happy for Daniel and his win, your brain couldn’t help but be elsewhere right now.

You replay the events of today over and over again. You were excited for the race, so thought to send your boyfriend a cheeky little picture of you in your McLaren cap and not much else. He sends you a picture back, an innocent smiling face looking like he’d just woken up from a night of restful sleep. You tap the photo he sent, unaware it was a Live Photo, and the camera starts to move, and suddenly, some blonde girl is in the shot, in his bed, and her lipstick is on his neck, and- and- and.

You notice your fists are clenched tight, knuckles white at the thought of him in bed with her. You weren’t sad, you just felt like an idiot. People had warned you before that he was trouble, incapable of monogamy with a wandering eye and a tendency for dishonesty. You weren’t sad, you were angry to be taken for a fool. More angry than you’d ever been in your entire life.

You stomp across the floor, too wrapped up in your seething anger to notice anything around you, until you collide with a firm chest. “Ah fuck, sorry.” You say, focusing on trying to steady the liquid in your glass as to not spill a drop. “No worries.” The man says back. You look up immediately, realising you recognise that voice all too well. “Daniel! Congrats on the win dude, you must feel amazing after that performance today!” You shout, leaning towards his right ear slightly. “Yeah, thanks, yeah I do. It was a good one.” He laughs, leaning in to your left. “It was.” You say, taking a sip of your drink. “Didn’t have you pegged as an old fashioned kinda girl.” He says, flashing a brief smirk. “Right now I’d drink fucking surgical spirit if it was all that’s on offer.” You say, looking towards him and making eye contact for a second. “I don’t think it’s that kinda establishment, but how about tequila? No one else will do shots with me. They’re all boring as fuck.” He asks, placing his hand on your shoulder to guide you gently back towards the bar. “Tequila sounds good.” You say, “As long as you’re buying.” “You know it baby!” He shouts, and you laugh.

Daniel flags down the bartender and rattles off his order as you down the rest of your drink, savouring the final drops. You fish out the swirly orange peel from the bottom of the glass and place it in your mouth, sucking the flavour from the bitter skin as you pull it back out through your tightly pressed lips. You drop the discarded peel back into the glass and look up, to realise Daniel had been watching you the entire time. “Was what I just did extremely weird?” You ask, feeling yourself blushing immensely, but luckily the funky club lighting hiding it from sight. “Not extremely weird.” He says, letting out a small laugh. “So like… a little bit weird?” You ask. “Yeah, a little bit. But also-“ Daniel begins, but the bartender arrives, placing down six tequila shots and two old fashioneds. “Good luck” The bartender says, before dashing off down the bar to the sea of waving hands.

“To you, I suppose, for a fantastic race and a well-deserved win!” You shout, gesturing your first tequila shot towards him. “I can’t say no to that. To me!” he collides his first shot with yours, before downing it as you do the same. You both proceed to wince at the taste, but continue on, just slightly beating him to having the second glass emptied and on the bar. You throw the last one back and empty it, smashing it upside down on the counter with all the force you wish you could use to smash your ex’s head with. You look up, noticing Daniel has only just finished his third shot and grin smugly, jumping up and down in excitement. “Fucking hell, you’re a machine.” He laughs. “Tequila-bot 3000 is here to drink shots and, quite possibly, throw them back up later.” You say, before internally wincing at how fucking nerdy that made you sound. Shit. “As long as you don’t go all I-robot and start trying to murder me, we’re all good.” Daniel responds, clearly willing to entertain your nerdy conversation. “Feed me any more tequila and I might go into evil mode.” You say, grabbing your drink from the counter and taking a sip. “You wanna go sit somewhere?” Daniel asks, but his mind is already made up, as without a response from you, he has grabbed onto your wrist gently and begun to guide you gently away from the bar and towards the booths on the other side of the room. You follow him, weaving your way past your colleagues who are far to drunk to even notice just who your drinking partner is. You slide into the booth and sit opposite each other, and simultaneously take a sip of your beverages.

“When you bumped into me earlier, you seemed to be in another world.” He says, placing his glass down on the table. “Yeah, I guess.” You say, fiddling with your glass awkwardly in front of you. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks. “My boyfriend-“ you begin, but stop yourself, “my ex-boyfriend. I caught him cheating this morning.” “Ah fuck, that’s so shit.” He says, offering you an apologetic look. “My fault really. When you take a man with a history of infidelity and make the relationship long distance, what should you really expect?” You laugh, before taking a decently large sip of your drink. “Fuck off, you did nothing wrong!” Daniel laughs, shaking his head at you. “True, true. He’s a cunt anyways. Fuck him.” You say, downing the rest of your drink. “Cheers to that.” Daniel adds, clinking his drink with your now empty glass and then emptying his own. “Another one?” You ask, and he quirks his eyebrow, “I’m buying?” He nods and you hop up from your seat and walk over towards the bar. You glance back at Daniel for a second, and swear you catch him looking at you too. Nah, he wouldn’t be. It’s just the drink playing tricks on you. You hadn’t realised till you stood up just how much you’d already had, but now your legs were swaying and your heels were just a teensy bit harder to walk in. You persisted forwards to the bar, where you bumped into your best friend and fellow intern. “Where’ve you been all night? I thought you wanted a drinking buddy to help drown your sorrows or whatever?” She says. “I found a drinking buddy while you were off dancing. You’re welcome to come join us though.” You say, as you catch the attention of the rather stressed looking bartender. “But you don’t know anyone? Who could you be drinking with?” She asks, and you gesture over to the booth in the corner where Daniel is sat, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the music, the two empty glasses with curly orange peels sat before him on the table. A group of men suddenly crowd him, probably to congratulate him for the race, and you lose his eyeline. “No fucking way!” She shouts, “I am totally coming to crash your little party.” “Go for it, bestie. It’s an open invite.” You say, just as the bartender returns with a tray of shots and some god-awful looking giant blue cocktail bowl. You nod to the bartender and begin your journey back to the table, you best friend following behind you with a margarita in each hand.

“Jesus fucking Christ what is that?” Daniel shouts as you place the tray on the table, pushing your way through the group of men who are now lingering at the corner of your booth. “No need to be so rude! This is Maisie, she’s an intern like me.” You scoff, feigning being hurt. “You know what I meant. The fucking blue soup thing.” He says, gesturing towards the beverage. “I watched him make it, and I’m pretty sure it’s like 90% vodka.” You say, sliding into the booth to take the centre spot, as Maisie slides in next to you. “I brought you a margarita, because everyone likes margaritas, right?” Maisie says, pushing the margarita towards Daniel. “Cheers, I like you a lot. You bought me an actual drink.” Daniel laughs, taking a sip of the margarita. “Hey!” You shout, and you’re not sure if its the drink or whatever else influencing you, but you give him a playful slap on the arm. He plays up that he’s injured, placing his hand to his head and sinking in his seat dramatically. “Oh just drink your blue shit, will you?” You say, popping a straw out of it’s paper wrapping and sticking it in the bowl, taking a big enough slurp to reduce the level of the liquid. Daniel grabs a straw and pops it in the liquid, and you narrow your eyes at him, before increasing your drinking speed. He catches on and does the same, until the two of you are left gasping for air and unable to take anymore. “Like a demented lady and the tramp.” You utter between deep breaths. “And I’m the lady,” Daniel adds, smirking. “Fuck you.” You laugh, letting your head fall back and hit the top of the booth seat.

After the blue beverage had been drunk, you had found yourself at the level of drunk where you were slightly crabby. A couple of other people from the paddock had joined you in the booth, causing you to be squished up against Daniel on one side and Maisie on the other. “Okay, truth or dare?” Your fellow intern Ed asks. “Do we ha-have to do this?” You hiccup. “It’s a rite of passage, (y/n)!” Maisie says, chasing the straw of her margarita around the glass with her lips. “Fine.” You sulk, “dare.” “I dare you to kiss someone at this table.” Ed says, giggling hysterically. “Well, I can only reach like two people.” You say, exasperatedly gesturing with your arms so you accidentally slap Daniel in the face. “Well, kiss one of them then!” Ed yells. You roll your eyes at him, before leaning in towards Maisie, only for her to place a finger to your puckered-up lips. “Not me. I’ve got a cold sore bestie.” She says, winking at you and gesturing behind you to Daniel. You mouth the words ‘fuck you’ to her, before turning your body in the other direction. “Pucker those lips bestie.” You say, before leaning in towards him.

Your intention was to just give him a quick peck on the lips, to save any awkwardness with Daniel as well as saving you from having to do a shot as forfeit of a dare. It was clear, once your lips had connected, that Daniel had other ideas. He immediately forces his tongue into your mouth, and while shocked, you reciprocate, somehow finding your hand on the side of his face to steady yourself into the kiss. Eventually you pull away to breathe, and almost forget that there’s an entire group of people watching you. “Damn, I thought the live sex show was in the next club over!” Ed laughs, and the rest of the group begin to laugh with him. You feel your cheeks heat up so give him a quick middle finger and a stern look. “Okay then, (y/n), pick someone.” Ed says, taking a drink of his cocktail. “Alright then.” You says, tapping your finger on your chin to ponder just who you were going to inflict your task upon. “No one’s picked Daniel yet!” Maisie shouts from behind her fourth margarita. “That’s true. Okay. Daniel.” You say, “Truth or dare?” “Hmm… Truth” He says, cocking his head and grinning at you expectantly. “Am I a good kisser?” You ask him, taking a sip of your drink and smirking around the straw. “Let’s just say it lived up to all my expectations.” He says, smirking straight back at you. “Expectations?” You question, “So, you’ve thought about kissing me before, then?” Your mouth seems to be saying the words without your brain even knowing, the drink clearly providing you with more confidence than you would ever normally have. “I answered your question, you’ll have to wait till later for my answer to that one.” He laughs. “Fair enough.” You say, “your turn then, and for fucks sake try and make this less awkward.” “(Y/n) truth or dare?” Daniel asks, smirking behind his glass. “I just had my turn!” You shout! “It’s an unorthodox move, but I’ll allow it.” Ed pipes in. “Go on then.” Daniel says, nodding towards you. “Alright. Dare.” “I dare you to go and sing karaoke right now.” He says. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Nope.” He says, popping the p. “I’ll just take the shot.” You respond, reaching towards the collection of shot glasses in the middle of the table, but before you can grab one, Ed steals all the glasses and downs each one. “Looks like there aren’t any shots left, bestie.” Maisie says, shrugging her shoulders and giving you a smug smile. “For fucks sakes.” You say, “I’m no pussy, let’s do it.” You say, grabbing Daniel’s glass from his hand and downing the entire thing. God you were gonna need all the drink you could get inside you to do this. You slide under the table and emerge at the other side of the booth, where you adjust your dress and gesture for everyone else to stand up. “Alright fuckers lets get this over with.”

You wander into the other room of the club, your drunk entourage following closely behind you. The room was brighter and much classier looking than where you had been previously, but it’s inhabitants were just as drunk, if not more so. A woman stood on the stage, belting out Bonnie Tyler’s ‘A Total Eclipse of the Heart’ at the top of her lungs. You settle against the bar, gesturing the bartender over and ordering another double whiskey. “Dutch courage?” Daniel asks as he slides himself in beside you at the bar. “Something like that, yeah.” You respond, grabbing the double whiskey on ice the bartender had just slid across the bar towards you. “Not too late to back out, (y/n)!” Ed shouts in a sing-songy tone. “I thought I didn’t have any option?” You ask him. “Oh yeah, too bad, good luck.” He says, his smug drunk smile all over your face.

The woman finishes the song and steps down off the stage to a chorus of drunk cheers and applause. You walk over to the stage, but then double back. “I never picked a song.” You say to the group. “I picked one for you.” Daniel says. “But what if I don’t know it?” “Oh, you’ll know it.” He laughs. And as the back in track begins, you hop up onto the stage and grab the microphone in one hand, your whiskey in the other. Oh boy do you know the song. You sway your hips to the tune, and immediately take to the lyrics, all building to the chorus.

‘I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive, Carved my name into his leather seats, I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, I slashed a hole in all four tyres, Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.’

You finish the song, and receive a round of applause and some very excitable whoops and cheers from your friends. “You were amazing, holy shit (y/n)!” Maisie shouts, jumping up and down excitedly and gripping you into a tight hug. “How was it?” Daniel asks. “You’ll have to wait till later for my answer to that one.” You respond, echoing his earlier words. You giggle and wink at him before finishing your drink, and placing the empty glass down on the bar. You turn to the rest of the group and exaggerate a yawn. “I think that’s me done for the night.” “Awwhh” Maisie sighs, looking down into her drink. “Gotta be up early tomorrow, remember! People to do, things to see, or, well, the other way around.” You wave your hand around, a perturbed look on your face, “Oh you know what I mean.” “You gonna be alright?” Daniel asks. “I’m quite capable of getting myself across the road to the hotel and up to my room, thank you very much.” You say, beginning to walk away and immediately tripping over your own foot, proving your point very much wrong. “Sure, pop princess. Whatever you say. I think i’mma follow you back all the same.” Daniel says, laughing at you. “Stalker much?” You say, as you head out of the door of the karaoke bar and onto the street.

You walk together in silence back to the hotel, until you reach the elevator. “Can I tell you a secret?” You say, leaning in slightly towards Daniel’s ear. “Shoot” “I pretended to fall over earlier, and i’m not actually tired.” You say, trying to stifle a giggle. “Sure, pop princess, whatever you say.” Daniel says sarcastically. “I mean it, you want me to recite the alphabet backwards while I walk in a straight line and touch my nose or whatever the fuck it is you’re supposed to do.” You say. “So, pop princess, why did you say and do all those things?” Daniel whispers in your ear, his voice low and his breath hot on your ear. “Because I hoped that you would follow me back to my hotel room, like the gentleman you are.” You say, turning your face in towards his, your noses practically touching. “You’re a crafty one, aren’t you?” He smirks. “Just a little bit, yeah.” You laugh, as the elevator beeps, and you jump, increasing the distance between the two of you.

You lead him towards your room and unlock the door, pulling him through it, slamming it, and then pushing him up against it. Your lips collide with passion, while one of your hands remains on his chest pushing him into the door, the other finds its way into his hair, curling and twisting through his soft locks. Hs hands find their way to your ass, which he squeezes roughly, causing a moan to escape your lips. He smirks at your response and you pull away. “Answer my question.” You say, dragging your hands down his body to the waistline of his trousers. You ease down the zip and palm him through his underwear. “What question would that be?” He responds in a breathy, deep voice. “You know the one.” You say, as you bend down to become eye-level with his waist. “Have I thought about kissing you before? That one?” He asks. “Yes” You exhale the word onto his exposed skin and he shudders. You dip your hand below the elastic of his underwear and set free his already erect cock. You stroke your hand gently along the bottom of the shaft, before looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Answer the question.” You say, finishing your order by licking his tip gently. “Only if you answer mine first.” He says. “Alright then” You say, before taking the tip of his cock on your mouth, moistening it with your saliva. “It was…” You pause to take him in your mouth again, hitting a point further down his shaft before removing him from your mouth. “Cathartic…” You say, taking him in your mouth again, licking a stripe along the bottom of his cock as you remove it from your mouth again, leaving it to rest against your warm, flushed cheek. Daniel groans at the loss of your warmth, his hips jutting towards you in want. “What else?” He asks between shallow breaths. “Freeing…” You utter, taking him in your mouth once more, this time reaching all the way to the base, his tip tickling your tonsils and almost triggering your gag reflex. “Ah, fuck, (y/n)” He groans. You place your hands on the exposed skin of his hips to steady him under your grasp, before you begin to move your head. You align your tongue with the bottom of his shaft, making sure to lick up to the tip every time you pull away. You do this multiple times, before pulling away completely, resting him against your cheek once again. “Now, are you going to answer my question?” You say, looking up at his flushed face, his eyelids fluttering in pleasure. You stand up and turn your back to him, taking a few steps towards the bed, before unfastening your dress and allowing it to fall to the ground. You step out of your heels and stop. He walks towards you, placing his hands on your hips and you melt into his touch, leaning your bare shoulders onto his clothed torso. “Lay on the bed, princess” he grunts into your ear, his hot breath like silk on your neck. You turn your head so your faces are almost touching. “I’m glad you dropped the ‘pop’, it’s sexier.” You laugh, turning around and pressing your lower half against him, your fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. He smirks, noticing your cue and removing his shirt, allowing you full access to his toned chest.

You throw yourself onto the bed with a giggle, pulling him with you as he tries to remove his shoes and trousers while still in your grip. The remaining clothing items are discarded to the floor, leaving him completely naked and you still in your underwear. You find yourself under him, his chest pressed to yours, as he works his way down your body, pressing hot kisses to every location he deems deserving until he reaches your core, hot and wet beneath your panties. “What the fuck are these doing here?” He says, his lips grazing the sopping fabric, before he loops his thumbs into the fabric and pulls them down. “Your answer, then?” You ask, raising your head to make eye contact with him. “I’ve thought about kissing you…” he begins, dipping his face towards your dripping cunt and skilfully licking between the folds. He raises his head, “every day…” he licks you again, and you make a sound so dirty it shocks you. “Since you first showed that pretty little face of yours.” He goes down on you again, this time lingering around your clit, gently toying with it with his tongue. You produce another pornographic moan. “Fuck that was filthy” he says, raising his head, placing one of his thumbs atop your clit which was aching for his touch. “I’ve never- I- I don’t-“ You stutter, unable to clearly form a sentence in your head. Your brain was flooded with feelings, sensations and pleasures the likes of which you’d never experienced before. And it was driving you wild. “Your ex was a fucking waste of space if he didn’t fuck you like this, princess.” Daniel speaks into you core, the vibrations and the gentle circling of his thumb on your clit sending you to a new level of pleasure.

A single, sudden, clear thought hits your mind, and you use all your strength to pull Daniel up towards you and flip him over, so that you’re now on top. “Show me how a real man does it.” You say, manipulating your body so that is erect cock is pressing against your entrance. Without a word, you allow him to fill you up, adjusting yourself to accommodate the sheer size of him. He sits up, wrapping his arms around your torso and resting his arms on your shoulder blades. “You okay?” He asks, his eyes searching for yours. You look at him, his flushed face and beads of sweat dripping from his curls on his forehead a beautiful enough sight to almost drive you to climax. “Fuck me.” You say, snaking your arms around his neck to provide yourself some balance as you lift yourself up off of him.

Your thrusts quickly synchronise, and the room is filled with the erotic sound of sex; a filthy collection of moans and curse words falling out of your mouths. You dig your nails into his back as he hits just the right spot, and he winces. You remove your hands from his back and look to him, but he nods at you and you immediately understand, placing your hands in exactly the same spot. And as he hits the right spot within you again and again, you dig your nails into his back deeper and deeper, far enough to draw blood, but his winces of pain quickly become moans of pleasure.

You feel your orgasm approaching swiftly, and press your sweaty forehead against his, your eyes closing, the only thing on your mind your impending release. You let out a collection of breathy moans, which you eventually realise are actually his name - ‘Daniel, Daniel, Daniel’ - repeated eternally by your sinful lips in an almost worshipful fashion. His thrusts up into you begin to become more sloppy, as he pulls you tighter into him, your head now tucked into the crook of his neck. “Fuck, I’m, fuck-“ he says, trying to string together a sentence. “I know.” You say breathily. “Me too.” And at that moment, you feel the most blissful eruption of orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. Your walls tighten around Daniel as you ride out your seemingly never-ending orgasm, your ritualistic chanting of his name becoming louder - surely the neighbours could hear - but you didn’t care. In that moment, the entire bloody hotel complex could be watching you and you wouldn’t care. Right now, all that mattered in this universe was you and Daniel. “Fuck, princess” Daniel says, before hitting his release, and you feel his cum begin to fill you up inside.

Unable to hold the position any longer, the two of you collapse against the bedsheets, Daniel still inside of you. You bring your hand up to gently caress the side of his face, and he places his hand gently atop yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You smile at him, a genuine, beaming smile, and you realise, you’d never felt like this before after sex. You’d never wanted to just stay in the moment before, not with your ex, not with anyone else. No one else made you feel the way Daniel did. He pulls out of you, grabbing the sheets and wrapping them around the two of you. You move to cuddle yourself against him, and feel the sensation of his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs. “Truth or dare?” He asks, looking at you over the sheets. “Truth.” You say, rolling your eyes at him. “Am I better than your ex?” Daniel asks, his eyebrow quirked. “If that’s what sex is, then I don’t think me and my ex ever did it.” You say, shaking your head and trying to stifle your laughter. “Let me guess, ten minutes of missionary with the lights off and his socks on?” He asks, smiling brightly at you. “Spot on,” you say, fighting your way out of his grip, “Now if you don’t mind, I have to go pee.” You manage to escape the mess of arms and blankets holding you back, before tripping into the bathroom.

You sit there in the bathroom and can’t help but sit there grinning to yourself like an idiot. You think back to your karaoke song.

‘A- cause the next time that he cheats, Oh, you know that it won’t be on me’

#Daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #Daniel ricciardo x you #also here’s ur daily reminder to always pee after sex #Ur welcome

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noforkingclue · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I absolutely adore your blog and all your writing! If you're still accepting requests, would you be willing to write #10 (the hand holding one) with The Master? I'm just very soft to the idea that he would sort of unconsciously hold reader's hand during an adventure without realizing it even if he had to like stage a coup one handed lol. Thank you for giving us all so much joy!

Aww thank you so much for saying that :D

I did make the Doctor kind of a dick in this. But let's face it, 13 is a dick.

Prompts: list

Title: Holding Hands

Doctor Who tag list: @v4n1r, @queerconfusionthings, @yourneighbourhoodclown, @love-of-fandoms, @emilythezeldafan, @fabulous-jj-style, @theseeker945, @pleadingeyes, @kjaneway1, @truthbehindthemysteries, @im-a-muggleborn, @startrekkingaroundasgard, @mythandmagik, @geocookie21, @zerocanonlywriteshit, @thwinterpoet2, @anteroom-of-death, @night467, @clarasoswaldd, @sessa23, @mxacegrey

Dhawan!Master tag list: @agentmalfoy24601, @b-bae-27, @praxeus-13

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“Come on human,” The Master looked over his shoulder, ��Don’t get lost.”

You pushed your way through the crowds as you glared at the Timelord. Why he decided to take you to this market of all places. Apparently there was some artefact that he was looking for. You cursed him under your breath as the crowds forced you to get pushed behind. A sense of panic came over you as you lost sight of the Master.

“I thought you were more capable of this,” the Master said, suddenly appearing beside you, “Do I really need to look after you all the time. This way.”

To your surprise the Master grabbed your hand and pulled you along. You felt your cheeks get warm at the unexpected contact. The Master hardly ever touched you. He might, occasionally, grab your arm when he wanted your attention but this, well, this felt far more intimate. Your breath hitched as you felt the Master rub his thumb over your knuckles. The Master looked over his shoulder at you and frowned.

“What’s wrong.” He said

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s just-“

“Oi. Where are you taking her?”

The Master groaned and frowned at the familiar voice. The Master tugged you closer to him and the blonde head of the Doctor marched into view. Yaz followed closely behind, looking suspicious, and another human you didn’t recognise trailed slightly behind.

“Doctor,” said the Doctor giving her a fake bright smile, “Pleasure as always.”

“I don’t know what you’re up to,” said the Doctor, “But I’m not allowing you to hurt her. I think you’ve hurt enough people, so no more!”

“Hurt who?” the Master said

“I think the Doctor means me.” You said

The Master frowned and looked between you and the Doctor. You gave him a small smile and shrugged before the Master turned his attention back to the Doctor. He raised his hand, which so happened to still be holding yours, and pointed a finger at her.

“And how many people have you hurt Doctor?” he asked, “How many companions have died during your adventures. I assure you that y/n is far safer with me.”

“That’s uncalled for.” Said the Doctor

“I don’t think it is,” you said, “You made assumptions despite not knowing why we’re here.”

“We’re trying to save you.” Said Yaz

“I thought by now you’d know that I’m here of my own free will.”

You raised your hand and realised that it was still linked with the Master’s. The Master followed your gaze before looking back at the Doctor, smug. The Doctor narrowed her eyes at it and the Master pressed a kiss against your knuckles.

“Come on human,” he said as he pulled you next to him, “We haven’t got all day to waste with them.”

You grinned at the Master as he led you away. You expected him to let go of your hand once the Doctor and her companions were out of eye sight but to your surprise the Master maintained his grip.

“What?” he asked, as though he had read your mind, “Can’t have you getting lost again, can I? If you do the Doctor might steal you away from me.”

#fanfiction #doctor who #reader insert #request #The Master #the master x reader #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years ago

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Shelby!Sister getting poisoned whilst at dinner with the whole family?

changed it up a bit; reader is roofied at one of Tommy’s fancy ball type parties and there’s one particular gentleman around to help her out.

Good Team

Tommy had, since you were merely a little girl, endeavoured to introduce you emphatically as (y/n) Shelby, with your surname stated soaked in ferocity and warning. You are a Shelby. You are his little sister. He makes sure people know this. He makes sure they’re aware. He sees it as a pre-warning, the kind that lets them know that you are very very important to him without actually saying those words. He sees it very much as a pre-warning for grievous bodily harm had any trouble befell you at another persons discretion. It was made incredibly clear from the moment you were born that you were so far from off limits to the enemies that it didn’t even need to be spoken.

However, it was a relatively occasional occurrence that this message was not accurately conveyed no matter how clear your elder brother was about the matter.

You were usually so cautious and so careful, but you were in your brothers own ballroom with his own supplied champagne and you had very few worries of such a simple business gathering for Christmas. You were adorning an extortionate dress that Tommy had made for you with a beautiful fur shoulder wrap, cheeks dusted with a champagne blush and a gorgeous smile as you mingle with rich business people and rich couples who were born into money. They were amazing at times to ogle at, coming from such a poor background. It was hard enough to adjust to your new life flaunting pretty dressed and walking around with a purpose and a job that had significant purpose.

But it would be safe to say you weren’t so worried around these people. You should’ve known better.

You keep blinking, squeezing your eyes shut to try and find vision again that wasn’t restricted by blurriness. The heels on your feet didn’t aid you much in the way of keeping your balance as you stumble into a long hall. You don’t remember where you last saw Tommy and you can’t remember where the glass you were holding had gone. You don’t know much, but you know you have to find one of your brothers.

Heavy footsteps behind you send a rush of hazed adrenaline through your veins, forcing your legs to move you faster, your arms scratching off paintings lining the walls as you attempt to use the wall as a stabiliser.

“Someone’s ‘ad a bit much, eh?”

Your eyelids flicker as you try to keep them open against the light that makes you feel like your head is exploding. “No, no I- there’s someone trying to get me!” You hiss in a slurred whisper with arms that flail somewhat aimlessly as you attempt to point out the person behind you. The man with his his on your biceps steadying you leans around to get a good look behind you. “Mhm, there me no one there love.” He says, confused. You can only vaguely make out who the person is that holds you up and it’s someone you know your brother only invited so as to attempt to talk him into taking on more Blinders for distillery protection.

Alfie Solomons wasn’t entirely the most trustworthy person that surrounded your family. Him and Tommy had a bit of a tendency to betray each other, no matter how expected it always was. The London gangster probably wasn’t the best person for you to bump into and definitely not the most reliable, but he was who you had ended up with and although it could have been him that drugged you, it didn’t seem incredibly likely. He told Tommy and Grace when greeting people at the front door; “No need for the fucking niceties eh Tommy? I’m here for the free booze mate yeah?” and walked on through with a pat on your brothers back.

Despite the fact you didn’t have much trust in him, you really holed that he wouldn’t pass you off as being overly drunk and leave you alone. You feel dreadfully unwell. Alfie looks down the hall, then back at you and with a sigh, he slips his strong arm around your waist and pulls you into his side for your stability. “I think you’re right, Shelby.” Alfie mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for even you to hear. “Something‘s just not right.” He turns to you, using his arm that wasn’t wrapped around you to lift up your eyelid. Beyond the terror in your eyes in huge pupils. “You’ve been drugged,” he states, his voice still low. “Better find those brothers of yours.”

That brings you some form of relief, but the terror still remains. It’s a scary situation, to know what you want to do with your limbs and know exactly what you want to say, but to be unable to speak or walk or even hold up your head. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing and you were drenched in sweat. It’s a shock you didn’t recognise you had been drugged before hearing Alfie say it.

His arm is tight around the waistline of your expensive ballgown, keeping you steady against him as he walked as quickly as he could manage while supporting your weight. He only vaguely knew the way around Tommy’s huge country house, but he did know where the man’s office was, and he’d likely have a maid in waiting there who Alfie could send to fetch him once he got you there. As you both rounded the corner into the corridor that would take you to Tommy’s office, there a man dressed like a waiter standing seemingly waiting for you. “Mister Shelby sent me to collect his sister when he heard she was overly inebriated.” The man spoke. Alfie furrowed his eyebrows tightly, but nodded and walked you closer to him. You want to protest, but your mind still won’t coordinate with your body and the most you can do is grumble. “She’s a bit hard to deal with,” Alfie admits, “So a tip you should really know for the future?“ He pauses, moving as though he’s going to pass you over to the arms of the other man. Alfie leans in until he’s only a few inches away and whispers a warning “I fucking hate liars,” before sharply drawing back his head only to but it forward forcefully into the man’s face.

He stumbles back and Alfie takes that opportunity to grab the front of his suit jacket and throw him behind the two of you with a kick to his ribs a few times for good measure. He wraps his arm back around your waist and continues on down the hall as if nothing had ever happened. “Could tell by his-fuck!”

A yelp leaves you as your legs tangled when you attempt to bare your own weight and instead clatter to the floor with a thud. Alfie grunts and you fight to open your heavy eyelids to see that a man had dove out at him from a doorway along the long hall and there were now two of them and two of you, except they were both conscious and had full control of their own bodies, whereas it fell upon Alfie to fight for both of you. The Londoner truly does not know why he has put himself in this situation for anyone, never mind for a Shelby he had only met a handful of times. But every time he had met you, you were incredibly sweet and kind to him. He knows that they’ll stop attacking him if he allows them to take you and do as they please with you, but something in him prevents him from doing that. There’s a part of him that encourages him to spit the blood from his mouth and stand in front of where you lay in and out of consciousness on the fell, ready to fight for you like he had something to lose if he couldn’t protect you. Tommy would never know Alfie was there with you if he walked away now, but something in him wants to be there. Wants to fight for you.

And so fight he does, throwing punch after punch, trying to take on two at once. Alfie managed to take the blonde assailant out of the game by cracking the wall with his blonde head of hair, leaving him out cold and potentially dying on the floor. When he does that though, his moment of glory is short lived before the other appears behind him with an arm tightly around his throat. Alfie squirms and grunts, kicks and scratches attempting to get him off, but the attacker holds on despite the blows. Alfie thinks he may well have to accept his fate.

Then he clocks you again on the floor, except this time your hands and trailing up your leg, hiking up your dress and he is utterly confused at your behaviour, thinking that it must be the drugs acting weird in your system. That is, until your dress reaches your upper thigh and the London gangster feels what he thinks may be butterflies when he spots the holster and gun that had been well hidden by your long ballgown. He would laugh, grin even if he wasn’t being strangled nearly to death. He watched with blurry vision as you try to steady your hands enough to point the gun at the attacker that was too bury trying to hold Alfie Solomons down to notice your movements. Alfie squeezes his eyes shut as you move your finger over the trigger and he hopes to God your heads are steady enough to shoot the right person.

The bang goes off and very suddenly he can breathe again. He notes that’s a good sign. He scrambles away quickly, turning around to press his foot onto the bullet wound in the shoulder of his attacker. “I will come back for you.” He growls in warning, pressing his foot harder to elicit a scream before he nods and turns back to where you stand. He wipes the blood off the bottom of his shoe on the carpet before he steps forward to swoop your gun off the floor to slip it back into your thigh holster, and then he helps you back up. Except this time, he opts to sweep you off your feet and into his arms bridal style.

“Good shot.” He notes. You breath a chuckle with hooded eyes in response, but can’t manage anything else. If you hadn’t been severely drugged, Alfie might’ve kissed you.

He makes it to Tommy’s office with ease, ordering the maid to get your brother immediately. Alfie lays you down on the soft couch in the office, placing you carefully on on your side for safety in case you’re sick. He uses the not blood tinted side of his handkerchief to wire some blood splatter and sweat from your face gently, and offers a gentle smile. “We make a good team, Solomons.” You hum with words slurred and jumped, but he understand what you said nonetheless. “That we do, Shelby.” He rumbles back in response.

The moment is as any moment of yours often is, interrupted by your elder brothers storming in. Immediately, Alfie is ripped from your side by Arthur slamming the him roughly against the wall with a loud clatter and bang. John goes to stand by Arthur’s side, and Tommy takes a knee beside you. The patriarch places his cool hand against your forehead before dipping down to place his ear just above your lips. “She’s breathing.” He concludes, “What the fuck did you do to her?” He sneers through gritted teeth as he takes steps towards Alfie.

“And why the fuck and you covered in blood.” Alfie sighs heavily, rolling his eyes and flaring his nostrils at the proximity of the three Shelby brothers. “Funny story, you see Tommy.” He grumbles discontentedly, “Seems as though someone tried after your sister right under your fucking nose, mate. Drugged her drink, removed her from the crowd. I found her wandering the halls all fuckin’ disoriented yeah. Now I don’t like a man who targets a woman, much less has to fuckin’ drug her to achieve it.” Alfie shrugs. Tommy narrows his eyes, but something in him believes what the Camden Town Gangster is saying. Alfie doesn’t have much in the way of necessity for taking you and it wouldn’t make sense for him to have the opportunity to but instead to bring you here. Right to them. “Doesn’t explain the fucking blood.” Arthur hisses, slamming his back against the wall again.

Alfie holds up his hands. “You’re little sister isn’t such a damsel as you make her out to be, Thomas. She has a fantastic shot. Some cunts-“ Alfie’s words drop with pure venom as the reminder of the man nearly strangling him to death reenters his mind, “Came after her. On that note, you’ll need a carpet cleaner and some body bags just along that hall. Don’t let the missus see that mess.”

Tommy paused for a moment, his eyes not leaving Alfie’s even when he speaks. “John, check that corridor.” He orders, making his younger brother grunt in annoyance but do as told nonetheless. “Arthur,” He grumbles, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Take our sister upstairs and get Polly.” Arthur is hesitant. Tommy might believe the words that Alfie speaks, but Arthur despises him and the only thing he hates more than Alfie is the thought of Alfie’s hands on you without any of them being there to help you, protect you. He knows that he and a Tommy are asking themselves the same question. How could something like this happen to you right beneath their noses. How had someone managed to get to when they were so close, literally right in the same room in an event organised by them. Arthur couldn’t answer the question, but could probably have killed Alfie in his rage at that moment. “Arthur,” Tommy repeats more firmly, “Go.”

This time, he listens. But that’s not without a warning glare at Alfie, who simply offers a smirk in response. “And you,” Tommy says finally, turning his attention to Alfie, “Fuck off.”

Alfie chuckles, but begins to walk past Tommy to leave the office when the smaller man grabs his arm in a vice like grip that makes the tips of his fingers tingle with the strength of it. Alfie feigns the urge to fight back in reaction to the pain. Tommy leans in close to his ear with a low snarl, “You don’t just help people. I don’t care what the reason was eh, but don’t you ever go near my sister again.”

Then he lets go and Alfie simply shakes off his arm and walks away. He hasn’t listened to Tommy Shelby any time in the past, and it appears as though today will be no different.

#alfie solomons x shelby!reader #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons prompt #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby reader #shelby!reader #peaky blinders blurb

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venenatd · 4 years ago

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just friends; eren jaegar x reader

summary: you and eren are best pals and have both recently be dumped. so, a plan to get over your exes is needed! what’s better than going out on the town trying to find quick fucks >:) also eren is a smug bastard but kinda has a heart of gold??

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (choking, unprotected sex, creampie drinking, drunk sex, possessiveness ig? dirty talk, both of them want to be dominant tbh. slight size kink, oral both m and f receiving. female bodied reader)

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 5.8k words of unedited content

a/n: uh so i never thought i’d be back on my tumblr bullshit at 23 but hey after years without the app i’m back. i needed to get out the h-word and this is what happened. enjoy and i’m sorry if it’s terrible lmao

“You look different”

Frowning at the man waiting ever so patiently for you on the sofa, you look a little defeated. “Is that meant to be a compliment, Eren?”. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you. To be fair, maybe you did. Wearing a figure hugging black dress, that definitely just hid your ass cheeks, hair styled and sprayed in place, dark lipstick and makeup on your face. Usually Eren would have seen you in sweats, always running a little late for class, snack in hand.

“Different isn’t bad,” he offered, checking the watch that lay on his wrist, “are we ever going to get to the bar? Your plan will fall through if you’re not careful.”

Ah, the plan. Both you and Eren were newly single. In your final year at university, having managed to keep each relationship going until almost the end. Ironic. Weren’t most meant to fail in the first year? But alas, your partners had decided it was the end within a couple of weeks each other, and as you and Eren had been close since you met on orientation day, you each took to the other for comfort. You had done the crying first, going to him the minute your call with the ex had ended. Leaving wet splotches on his shirt, he had calmed you, only for you to do the same to him later. Now the crying was done, it was time to move on, and what better advice to follow than getting under someone to get over another?

“I just need to look hot enough for a guy to fuck me.”

“What a romantic you are.”

“Shut up Er-”

Eren shifted from the couch, interrupting your usual sass, “and what about me, y/n? Do I look beautiful?”. He threw in a wink with his comment, his aura of cockiness always radiating. You rolled your eyes, before studying his figure. His dark hair half pulled back into a bun, the rest draping his neck and onto a deep emerald green silk shirt, with the top few buttons loose, tucked into dark pants. A ring on each hand, fingers with chipping black nail polish, and to top it off, a thin chain on his neck. You hated to admit it and add to his smug demeanour but... the man did look good.

“Gorgeous as always Eren,” you said sarcastically, even if it was truthful, “I’m sure there will be a queue of women who are wanting to jump on you.”

“Not if they aren’t all taken already,” he taps at his watch. Whilst the two of you had already been drinking as he waited for you to get ready, it was definitely on the later side.

“Order the uber, and we can go.”

Walking over to him and adding shoes to your outfit, you present yourself before him, a cute little smile playing on your lips. He’s staring down at his phone, quickly going through the motions for the ride. Finally, he looks up to catch your eyes. His jade pupils flick down slightly, and he hopes you miss that they land at the cleavage you’re sporting in your current get up. He flicks your nose, earning a scowl from you and a smile from him.

“You look perfect”

The club is far fuller than you both expected, dance floor and tables taken up and crowded round. Luckily, you had managed to secure you and Eren a pair of seats at the bar, and you were currently on your third..? Fourth drink of the evening. Green eyes watch your lips carefully, as you finish the vodka and lemonade.

“So, anyone take your fancy?” he prompts, looking around at the mess of people.

Humming, you scan the area. There’s some people you recognise from class, but plenty more you don’t know. Fucking friends seems like a bad move, even in your tipsy state, so you look to the strangers faces. They don’t look like him. Ugh.

There’s a few options though, and as you point them out to Eren they come with brief descriptors: dark hair and stubble, wide set blonde. He tuts at the options, sarcastically letting out a “sure sure, I see the appeal”.

“And how about you, anyone you like the look of?” you ask with a sigh.

Christ, Eren thinks to himself. It’s been long enough that he hasn’t had to look for someone else. Sure there were attractive people in the world, but with her around, he hadn’t needed to give anyone else a second look. His palm moves to the back of his neck, stretching out behind him with a huff. “Let’s look on the dance floor?” he offers, clearly not as eager as you were tonight. Moving his hand back down, he holds it out for you, pulling towards the throng of people.

He looks effervescently cool like this. Shirt open, hair starting to fall from his bun. Eren is looking around at the people surrounding the two of you. The two of you had been working in circles, allowing each other an eyeful as the club goers move around the space. As a group of guys push their way from the dance floor to the bar, you get shoved towards Eren. Heels were never quite your forte, and you stumble against him, hands on either side of his chest. Grinning down at you with that smug little smile that annoyed you so much, Eren brought large hands to your waist, pushing you away a little. But his hands stay there as he continues to sway to the music, making no effort to break the contact. And so you bring your arms up to his neck, allowing his movements to carry you on time to the song. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, you feel light. Your chest isn’t constricted by some foreign weight. It’s just you and your best friend, buzzed and free.

Colours change above you, as you look up to Eren, him down to you. A playful grin takes his lips as he pulls you a little closer, you so easily accepting the narrowing distance. Your black silk meets his deep green, chest pushing into his. You carefully analyse his features, seeing if he attempts to check you out like earlier.

Was it the alcohol making your cheeks so warm? Lit up by a purple hue, you watch his eyes return to exploring the crowd, his hand still holding on to you. His smirk falters, his eyebrows creasing together. You’re not moving in circles anymore, Eren pausing in his movements as he thinks about what to do next. He shouldn’t lie to you, but seeing your ex at the bar would really harsh the night. Under his fingers, he can feel your body tense, suddenly unsure at how close the contact between you was.

But Eren doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t want you to be distracted by your ex tonight. He doesn’t want to see your hurt little face anymore. The way your eyes would be red and puffy the next day. The way he would feel your shoulders heaving under his arms. You don’t deserve that. Hell, you didn’t deserve the huge amount of shit your ex had put you through over the years he’d known you. Eren would sit back and listen to you rant, support you where he could. But fuck that guy. And he wasn’t sure what sparked in his chest, but Eren’s jade orbs are trained straight back on you. His eyebrows calm, tension releasing from them. As you can turn to scope out whatever had changed his body language so suddenly, he catches your jaw.

Beginning to slowly move again, his eyes have narrowed, taking in the way the dress hugs you, the shine on your skin from the hot dance floor. Eren couldn’t quite figure out what was intoxicating him right now. Definitely a lot of alcohol, but also a sudden… possessiveness. He didn’t want you in pain anymore. Eren wanted you in pleasure. His breath is suddenly on your neck, making your hair raise.

“I’ve only seen one person I’m interested in tonight.”

“Oh?” you squeak, before clearing your throat a little. The new deep notes in his voice catch you off guard. It almost sounds like he’s… No. He’s your best friend. The little looks you’d been giving each other all night were just two people looking out for one another, two people seeing each other happy for the first time in a while. Your voice is calmer as you ask light-heartedly, “and who would that be?”

His lips are so close to your ear.

“You.”

“Eren-” your hands move from behind his neck, resting on his shoulders. You need to see your best friend's face, you need to know if he’s joking right now. If he’s mocking you. When you draw back, you see his face. Smug, as always. Fuck you’ve always wanted to knock that cockiness down a peg. Cheshire smile showing his teeth and his eyes looking down at you. Half lidded eyes, pupils blown. He’s not joking. Fuck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. All too aware suddenly of each of his finger pads pressing into your skin, the contact feeling like fire with the added alcohol. But, you find yourself nodding, the yes just escaping your lips before he’s pressed into them.

Large hands travel to your hip, and up your back, pressing you into him. You can feel his body, tense in exhilaration against you, hands back around his neck. One travels up to the nape of his back, tangling into his hair and pulling him deeper into you. The music is all consuming, you can feel the bass in your body, you can feel Eren against you, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Eren’s hand on your back travels up, echoing your placement on him, to hold the back of your neck. He doesn’t want you to go, you feel too good. The heat between your bodies could suffocate him. His thumb puts pressure under your jaw, he isn’t even sure you can feel it. But he can, measuring your pulse racing underneath the pad. He’s smiling into this kiss, this all consuming kiss.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you’re all too eager to allow him into your mouth. Tasting the whisky from your home, tasting the coke from the club. His teeth take your lip nipping slightly, before sucking the plump of it into his mouth. You both come up for air, eyes meeting in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The drive home had only served to heap tension between you. As clearly that it was that you wanted each other, you would have to wait a while longer. Your thighs pressed together, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Going through your mind was whether this was a good idea, staring out at the city passing by you. Eren was your friend. You were dating another man two weeks ago. The same man that had previously asked you if he needed to be worried about Eren. You’d laughed it off, because it was Eren. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt him grip your leg, a little too harshly at first, before settling, leaving a gentle pattern of circles and lines on your inner thigh. It was Eren.

Just one hallway. You had to make it one hallway to get into your apartment. One hallway left to come to your senses. And just like he read your mind, Eren is once again touching you, just his hand on yours pulling you backwards. You twist just in time, his hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, deeply and intensely. Pushing you back into the wall, you pray a neighbour doesn’t walk out now. His knee is pressing gently between your legs, and you allow it. Your fingers sink into Eren’s arms, lightly covered by the fabric yet you can still feel the muscle underneath, relaxing and tensing as he pulls you closer.

His lips are making their way to your jaw, lifting your chin upwards, tentatively licking the bone before moving downwards still, sucking and nipping and licking your neck. A whimper breaks through. You really need to get inside. Gripping his hair, you sharply pull backwards.

“Not going to play nice, huh?”

When did he speak like this? The playful and shit-eating grin your friend Eren always wore was replaced by something darker, his words laced with intent.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You were off, finally at your door, making quick work with the lock, moving in first before he followed. The door shut as you pushed Eren against it, usual doe eyes being taken over with a deep lust. Your hands are instantly at his belt, as his hands find your face once again. This time he’s grabbing your hair, making you look up at him as he glares down at you. You’re constantly challenging one another in conversation, and it’s translating to the bedroom far too easily.

Lips are on one another again, as you leave the belt and start towards his shirt. You bite down on his bottom lip, earning a hiss from him, and you feel his hand being brought around your throat. He doesn’t add too much pressure, checking if this turn is indeed okay with you. When you push against the weight, he takes the gleam in your eye as a yes, and uses the force to push you against the next wall, finally moving off the front door.

It’s a constant battle to get to the bedroom, both of you taking control for short bursts. Eren pulling the thin straps of your dress down, you untucking his shirt. His muscular torso is on full display, and you had never viewed it in this light before.

Finally he pushes you onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. Your kisses are sloppy and infused with alcohol. Hands are desperate with one another, both of you needing to be closer. Are you scared if the contact ends your thoughts will return to sanity?

Eren’s hot and heavy over you, his hands seem everywhere at once. Smoothing up your thigh, digging in slightly to the flesh when you grind against one another. His hands rest at your hips for a moment, and he’s looking down at you, still fucking smiling. All at once, he’s flipped you over his prominent hard on pressing into your ass. He’s whispering in your ear, leaving wet kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blades. Fingers take the zip at the back of your dress, slowly and carefully pulling it down, leaving licks and pecks as he goes. It’s torturous.

You attempt to speed things up by rutting your ass against his crotch, and you think you hear a quiet moan, before his hand is brought down to the fabric, smacking your cheek. You gasp, turning your head to look at him. Eren is too occupied in taking in all of your body, his green eyes are darkened with authority and lust. His nimble fingers play with the short hem of your dress, thumb dipping beneath, before he pushes the silk up.

You both let out soft fuck’s, as his hands grab at the plump of your ass. It’s like he’s testing the softness, the way your flesh responds to his touch so easily. He slaps at you again, earning a sharp moan from you. Eren’s leaning down, his mouth once again trailing across the apex of your behind, leaving trails of saliva as he goes. Before you can even register the new sensations you can feel a soft pressure against your clothed cunt, just enough to let you know the presence of his hand, but not enough for you to get off on. You’re mewling, once again trying to get closer to him. This time he allows it, eagerly pressing his ring and middle finger to your clit, allowing you to grind upon them.

Seeing you underneath him like this… it’s new and strange and so fucking hot. He’s watching you desperately try and fill the need building in your core, and he can only feel his cock twitch in his pants as he sees you coming undone. If you wanted more, he could definitely give it to you. Bringing his large hands away, to the flimsy fabric that was covering you, he pulls it down, exposing you to him. His heart and dick fucking jump. His hands return to your ass, watching the jiggle as you move and whimper. Spreading you, he brings his face down, breath tingling on your most sensitive areas.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue, gentle at first, licks between your folds. He’s tasting you, he’s moaning into your pussy, as you write beneath him. Eren’s hands are squeezing your ass cheeks, holding you still as you try to grind against his face.

“Patience, y/n”, he says, with a slap on your behind again.

“Fuck you,” you hiss.

“You will be in a minute, baby girl, don’t worry.”

You go to make a retort but he’s instantly back, licking up your slit and a deep moan escapes you. Jesus you can feel the smile on his lips as he’s back on your pussy. Eren is so proud of the sounds he can draw from you. He wonders if your ex could make you come undone so easily.

You taste sweet and saccharine on him, and he doesn’t hold back the groan as he further works his way into you. Hardened tongue moving it’s way from your entrance down to your clit. He swipes at it, before moving away again. Kissing your thighs, kissing the skin between your holes. Every now and then he’ll move back to your clit, allowing you a moment of pleasure before he’s teasing again. “Fuck, please”. Your whines are being smothered by the sheets, and Eren wants nothing more than to hear them, loud and clear.

Eren’s ringed fingers make their way to your hair, his face lifting from between your legs. He pulls you back round, and holy shit you can see how wet you are on his face. There’s a sheen to his lips and chin, and instinctively you reach up to his neck, pulling him back on top of you. Your tongue meets his, tasting your tartness on his mouth. A hand makes it way back down in between your thighs, playing and parting your folds. Your hand in turn reaches up his neck, pulling sharply at his hair once again. “Eren. More- please” you get out in between staggered breaths.

“Aw, since you asked so nicely” his eyes watch your expression closely as his thumb rests on your clit, his finger swiftly moving inside you. Your eyebrows raise and knot, eyes wide and lips parted. But he keeps it still as your legs shaked around his arm. “Eren, move” you demand this time.

“Oh, that’s not so nice. I liked it when you were polite.” He starts to retract his finger, thumb gently swabbing your clit so you’ll know what you miss.

“Please, please, please, Eren, please” you speak before he even gets the first knuckle out. All the teasing was creating a tightness in your lower stomach.

“Much better.”

You whine as he continues to pull his finger from you, until he pushes it back in, curling his solitary finger up. Your fingernails are pressing deep into the muscle of his bicep, feeling how it moves as he finger fucks you. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again, and his thumb is swiping eagerly on your clit.

Eren can feel you fluttering around his finger, desperate for more, desperate to release on him. He adds another finger, your wetness allowing him entrance easily. He wants to fuck you so bad, his cock so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

He pushes your hands off him, leaving crescent moon indents deep in his skin, he works his way back down. He brings the black silk with him this time, fully being able to take in your body as you’re left naked before him. Holy shit you’re beautiful. He doesn’t want to stare too long and make you shy. But he still kisses his way down, before he’s back at your pussy.

This time he allows you more movement, letting your fingers work their way back into his hair, letting you roll your hips against his tongue and stubble.

With his spare hand he pulls out his cock, slowly pulling at it, before he realises he can’t do that for too long without cumming before the main event. Instead he reaches up, rolling your perked nipples in between his fingers. There are so many sensations on your body, and Eren can feel your cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers. You hold your breath before letting out little moans, building towards reaching your height.

“You want to cum on my fingers?

Your back is arching, whispering “yes, yes, yes, please” as your walls are tightening around him. He quickens the pace, making sure to hit that spot inside you over and over. Thighs around his face, he can feel your slick pooling in his mouth, and coating his chin once again.

Your gummy walls are so tight around his thick fingers, he needs you to finish, watch you fully unravel below him. Sucking and licking at your clit, he’s pushing you towards the edge.

“Eren-” his name is strangled coming out of you, and then your moaning, undulating your cunt against his mouth, riding out your orgasm.

His jade eyes look up at you, watching as you pull your head up to look at him, before another wave of pleasure hits you and you have to arch your neck and look back up. He waits for you to come down, letting you fuck his face and fingers. Grinding against his stubble and tongue as you let out pitiful and beautiful moans. You’re so fucking wet, the sounds coming from between the two of you should be forbidden, as you release onto him.

Finally he withdraws, using his forearm to wipe his face. He lies next to you, allowing you a moment as he draws little circles on your stomach. Eren has never quite looked at you in this light. Sure, you were pretty, and the two of you were obviously close. But now you’d walked a line that couldn’t be undone. You weren’t over your ex, and as okay as Eren was with what had happened between you, he didn’t want you to run. He’s overcome with thoughts, looking down to your chest and the heavy breaths you were taking. All he could pray was that you weren’t pretending he was someone else.

But as Eren is getting caught up in his own mind, you’re twisting, hand reaching to his crotch, cock having been recaptured by his boxers. Palming him, you feel how big he really is for the first time. Fingers trace the edge of his pants and underwear, and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down. Shit. His dick slapped back to his stomach, precum leaking from the top of his pink head. He was bigger than you’d imagined, because of course you’d imagined it a couple of times.

Your hand looks so small around his cock, but you slowly tease him, his deep green orbs following your movements. Bringing your head down to him, you kitten lick the precum from the top of his dick. He hisses gently, and you look up at him with these big doe eyes, so fucking eager to please.

You push your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue as you begin working along his shaft. He moans just at the sight of you, your eyes peeking up through dark lashes. His hand goes through your hair, eagerly pushing you deeper around him.

He lets out a hoarse, “is this okay?” before you put your own hand on his pushing it for the both of you. You don’t even want to come up for air, you just want him close to you, inside you.

You were learning far more about each other than you had expected, as Eren takes back over. He pushes himself further into you, muttering a good girl that has you whining. The vibrations around his cock make his hips buck, and now you’re gagging as his length hits the back of your throat. He holds you there instead of letting you off, and your nails are sharp against his thighs.

His head lolls back as he starts to move his hips under you, moving you in turn with your hair. He picks up the pace quickly, allowing saliva to drool from you and straight to his cock.

Your eyes prick, big fat tears forming at the corners. But you’re enjoying this way too much, the moans and gasps he gives make you moan, pressing your thighs together for some kind of friction.

He takes your jaw in his grasp, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Your tongue sits out your mouth, him smacking the head of his dick on it. He notices your tears then, the mascara that’s running a little. He swipes at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead.

Bringing you up to him, your dripping folds sliding across his length. His lips are on your cheeks, across your jaw, licking up your neck before reclaiming your plush lips once again. You continue grinding against one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually Eren brings his hands to your hips, lifting you up as you hold his shaft up.

Your foreheads are pressed together as he slowly pushes inside you. The stretch is burning and all-consuming, eyes pricking up again as you feel him hit your furthest wall. Eren breathes out heavily, “So fucking tight”

You roll your hips, allowing some friction from him on your clit. It helps your muscles relax a little, and balancing your hands on his shoulders you push yourself up and down, using his length for your own pleasure. Eren’s eyes don’t leave your form, watching your breasts bounce and how your eyes flutter close as he fills you entirely.

“You really did want to be fucked, huh? Look at you” he teases you, watching as you go to talk back before he thrusts his hips up. It leaves the words caught in your throat.

His pace maintains, holding you in place as he fucks up into you, feeling your cunt clench around him. There are long moments where you hold your breath, holding his cock tight within you. Then you’ll release and moan, before holding it in again. Well, Eren is all too happy to help you with that.

One hand grabbing the flesh of your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, he pushes into you at a punishing rate. Your eyes go wide at the sudden restriction of your throat, feeling the cold metal of his ring against your pulse.

“Who knew this about you? That you were such a slut?”

As much as he knows you want to deny it, you want to smack the smugness from his voice, he can feel your pussy tighten around him. He sees your eyes roll back a little.

“You’re getting tighter.”

The hand on your hip moves down, attempting to hold you in place whilst letting his thumb press over your clit. The sounds of him slapping against your wetness is obscene, and he’s only distracted from it as you whimper out pathetic yes’s and please’s.

“You wanna cum?” he’s grunting, trying to keep the pace going until you can reach your peak.

You nod against his wide hand, still tight around your neck. “Oh you can do better than that. I already know how bad you want it, slut.”

“Please Eren, please make me cum. I want to cum, please, please, please” you can barely make out the words, your head going light and body tightening.

“Cum for me.”

You release, and as he can feel the fluttering of your walls around him, he lets go of your throat. The sudden oxygen as you cum leaves you overwhelmed. Burying yourself in his shoulder, he fucks you through it. Cock slapping up into your cunt over and over, somehow being sucked deeper in as you coat his length with more of your own slick. He can feel your nails breaking the flesh of his back as you’re holding on for dear life, moaning his name and even a fucking thank you into his ear.

As you begin to slow, legs shake as you stay straddled over him. He flips you, Eren now firmly on top, slowly moving in and out of you. The stimulation is intense, your cunt sparking at any sensation.

Caged between his forearms, his hair is a mess thanks to you. You push tendrils back past his ears as he leans down to kiss you once again. This kiss is different. It feels… less desperate. It feels deep and meaningful, caring even.

Your eyes meet in acknowledgment, both of you too worried to speak about the shift in tone.

He reaches down instead, pulling your leg up and splitting you on his cock. A tongue swipes at your nipple, biting and playing with each as he gradually picks up pace again. You’re still so fucking wet it’s easy for him to thrust into you at a dizzying pace. You can feel all of him against your gummy walls. Each time he passes that special spot inside you, you moan and gasp, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

His thrusts were becoming more primal, holding your thighs close around his hips. Letting your sweaty bodies collide again and again, his balls slapping against you. The grunts and moans coming from his lips were so infuriatingly erotic. Eren just wanted one more from you, and then he’d let himself finish. If this was to be a drunken mistake, so be it, but he would at least make it memorable.

Those jade eyes were on you once again, the power and dominance radiating from the immeasurable. He can see you barely being able to hold on, completely fucked out beneath him. You’re moaning and whining, hands moving over the swell of your breasts and playing with your nipples as if it’s going to keep you grounded.

He sits up, eyes flicking down to where you were conjoined. It took so much restraint not to cum inside you right then and there. Your glistening sex was so tight around him, the wet slapping noises echo again and again. You’re pulling and sucking him in, cream pooling around his length.

“Give me one more, y/n. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You try to look up at him through heavy lids. Your friend Eren saying this is so taboo. The words he’s said tonight so far from normal for the both of you. You flutter around him, somehow your pussy still wants to be fucked, still wants to push you off the edge one more time. You can feel the coil inside your stomach tightening.

Eyes rolling back, you can barely keep it together anymore. He’s pounding into you at a startling rate, fingers flicking over your clit again and again and again.

“P - please, it’s s-so good.”

Your breaths between words were quick, “you’re so big-”

“Yeah you like that? You like being so full of my cock? Such a pretty face you make when you’re all fucked out.”

Holy shit.

Eren could tell how much words affected you, your back arching and legs pulling him somehow closer into you.

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear those moans.” he’s grunting, getting so fucking close to losing himself in your cunt. He knows what he wants to hear most though, “say my name. Tell me who’s treating you how you should be”

With that, you’re losing yourself around him again. Writing on the bed, gripping sheets in tightly balled fists. White light taking over your sight as you clench around Eren. This orgasm was the most intense, taking your body by surprise in its overstimulated state. You weren’t even making a noise, just holding on to the high for as long as possible.

And then you shattered, whining and moaning, whispering his name over and over again.

As you moved underneath him, Eren kept his punishing pace up until he watched you expel the last of your energy. Name forming on your lips over and over again he falters, releasing inside you. You can feel the stickiness inside you, the sensation of being filled up. Eren watches for a moment as he sees the white pearls forming around your stretched out pussy.

His chest is back on yours as he kisses your neck, shoulders, whatever skin he can. Thrusting back into you a couple of times, he finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

Eren lies next to you, both of your bodies attempting to regulate from that.

“You okay?”

He’s checking in, making sure he didn’t go too far with someone he genuinely cares for.

You nod, turning to meet his stare. Giving him a drowsy smile, you’re not sure what comes next. But for now, you’re happy. Curling into his side, he puts an arm round you and lets you rest for a while. As he notices your breathing become deeper, he nestles into you, muttering something about clean up.

Moving away from you, you can make out some noises of a tap, drawers opening and closing. In your sleepy state you feel him gently wiping at you, two glasses of water being put on the bedside table. Finally he makes his way back to you, and Eren notes how cute you look. Hot and completely fucked out, yes. But also gentle and at peace, allowing the heaviness of sleep taking over.

He rests behind you, wanting to be back in your warmth. He pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. The fragrance of you takes over his nostrils, and he’s all too eager to move closer to your hair, pressing one last kiss at the nape of your neck. Whatever tomorrow brings, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to be this close to you.

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #aot smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yaegar x reader smut #attack on titan smut #pls be nice lmao

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yespleasetommyshelby · 3 years ago

Text

Temporary - Oscar Diaz imagine Part 6

Previously...

"De nada princesa." He winked before stepping out into the yard, a chorus of 'spooky!' coming from the Santos as he closed the door behind him.

A cough from beside me brought me back to earth, turning to see three sets of eyes on me, Ruby and Jamal looking as though I'd killed somebody right then and there and Cesar with a knowing smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked innocently.

------------------

"What did you do?" Jamal asked, still stood staring at me with wide eyes.

"I have never, ever, seen an actual smile on that guys face." Ruby muttered, watching the front door as though Oscar would magically walk through it any second.

"He's got a point." Cesar added making my eyes move to him. "He's my brother and I've never heard him call anyone 'princesa' before, let alone offer to let a girl stay over with no repayment, if you get what I mean." He smirked as he looked at me, his eyes holding a knowing glint.

"Maybe I just have that effect on people." I shrugged with a slight laugh. "Anyway, what's this about a school dance?" I asked in attempt to change the subject.

"It's on Friday and we're gunna get freaky with it." Jamal sung as he moved his hips in what I think was supposed to be a 'sexy' way.

"Okay, that's gross." I stated pointing at the younger boy as he slowly stopped dancing, crossing his arms before flopping down on the couch besides me.

"What is with you people and throwing water on my flame?" He groaned to himself.

"Jamal, baby, you need to have a flame for someone to put it out." I spoke with false sympathy, laughing as he rolled his eyes and mimicked me.

"How were the school dances in Cali?" Ruby asked leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched me.

"Uh, I didn't actually go to any." I shrugged thinking back to how me and Jess would just take a couple bites down to the beach and drink the night away.

"You didn't go? Like, to any?" Cesar asked with a surprised look on his face.

"Not that I remember no, I used to just go down to the beach and get drunk." I shrugged with a small smile.

"You should come." He continued making me look up to him in slight confusion. "To our dance." He clarified with a smirk.

"Oh, well in case you haven't realised I finished school a couple years ago, and I didn't even go to yours." I smiled at his offer.

"So? We can bring dates from other schools, or not from school at all, this is freeridge, it's a pretty relaxed deal." He shrugged, the smirk still on his face.

"I'm not sure that's going to a school dance with a fourteen year old is such a great idea." I muttered unsurely.

"You're overthinking things here Lia." Jamal said loudly as he pushed himself up and stood next to Cesar and Ruby. "God, you're definitely related." He spoke to himself as he looked up to the ceiling.

"Hey!" Me and Ruby yelled at the same time making Jamal raise his eyebrows in an 'I told you so' style. "But he's right." Ruby shrugged. "It's nothing serious just a dance, besides, I thought you'd be up for some fun after whatever just happened." He continued.

"Ruby's right." Cesar nodded, all three boys stood watching me and waiting for an answer.

"Fine." I sighed in defeat. "You're on." I smiled.

--------------

"Thank you again." I smiled as Oscar grabbed what he needed from his room before spending the night on the couch.

"Ain't nothin'." He shrugged as he headed towards the door, fresh shirt and shorts in hand.

"I'm going to the school dance with your brother." I blurted out stopping him with his hand on the doorknob. "Oh my god that sounded so much stranger out loud." I groaned as I flopped back onto his bed staring at the ceiling.

"Why?" He snorted as he turned round, dumping his stuff on a set of drawers before he stood at the side of the bed looking down at me in a mix of confusion and amusement.

"They was talking about the dance and I mentioned I'd never been to one, then Cesar offered to take me." I shrugged before sitting up and looking up at him. "It's not that strange right?"

"You're 19 and going to a school dance with my brother." He said matter-of-factly as he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I know it's so weird." I half groaned, half laughed as I thought about what I had agreed to. "You know you don't have to sleep out there right? I'm more than happy to, this is your bed after all." I mentioned, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

"A princesa should sleep on a bed, not a couch." He gave me a small smile and a shrug.

"And what about a caballero?" I asked making him look at me in confusion. "Well, you were my night in shinning armour." I teased with a smirk, and I'm sure, I saw a hint of pink lining his cheeks before he cleared his throat and it was gone. "Oscar Diaz get your culo into the bed before I tell all your little home boys that you cried at Marley and me." I smirked knowing that seeing Spooky Diaz crying earlier was going to come in handy, not that he'd admit he was.

"A) I wasn't crying, and b) even if I was you wouldn't dare." He muttered narrowing his eyes at me although the small smirk on his face let me know that he wasn't quite 100% serious.

"Try me." I smirked.

I let out a laugh as he sighed loudly throwing his head back before huffing his way over to the opposite side of the bed, pulling his top over his head before throwing himself down dramatically.

"You're such a drama queen, you know that?" I laughed as I lifted the cover and settled down on the pillow.

"Let's remember who's bed this is yeah." He muttered, both of us laid on our backs and watching the plain white roof.

"Was you close to them? Your parents I mean." I whispered remembering Ruby saying that the Diaz brothers had been alone for the majority of Cesar's childhood.

"My mum died when I was younger, couple years after Cesar was born, I don't remember much about her other than she was a jumped up crackhead." He muttered, my eyes widening slightly at how blunt and open he was being about it. "Me and my dad were kinda close when it came to gang business, I guess, but other than that I barely knew the man personally." I felt him shrug from his place besides me. "What about you?" He asked making me scoff quietly.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed or not but me and my mum don't exactly have the greatest relationship. She's constantly on my ass trying to put me down, she tried her hardest to make me into the housewife that she's always been, and that's just not me." I shrugged laughing slightly. "But my dad." I trailled of with a sigh, a small smile on my face. "He's the greatest man I've ever met, I mean sure, he's had some troubles in the past but he's always put me and mum above it all. Even when it costs him more than he has, he always finds a way to make sure we're alright." I smiled at the thought of the hero that was my dad.

"He sounds like a good man." Oscar whispered making me turn to face him only to realise that he was already watching me.

"He is." I whispered with a small smile, my eyes captured by his as the familiar butterflies from earlier suddenly reappeared, his eyes moving between my own and my lips.

Not risking another interruption he quickly leant forwards and captured my lips with his own, moving our lips against each other's slowly, the cliché of butterflies and fireworks never really making much sense to me until this moment, when I felt it all.

I kept my eyes closed as we slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against mine as he released my bottom lip with a slight pop. Taking a deep breath I opened my mouth to speak before I was interrupted by a quick kiss on my lips before he pulled back completely.

"Sorry, I uh, I shouldn't have done that." He said quietly, looking into my eyes briefly before reaching over and playing with the small 'D' pendant that hung around my neck. "I know you got a boyfriend." He muttered scowling, dropping the necklace as though it had burned him.

"It's alright Oscar." I smiled slightly, bringing my hands up to the sides of his face my thumb rubbing his jawline gently. "I'm done with him, enough is enough, right." I shrugged making him chuckle slightly.

"It's okay." I smiled bringing my hands to the sides of his face, my thumb rubbing over his jawline gently. "I'm not with him anymore." I shrugged making him chuckle slightly.

"Good." He smirked, placing his hands on he sides of my face forcing me to let go of his and hold onto his wrists instead. Giving me one more smirk he leaned in placing his lips against mine as his hands disappeared from my face, reaching behind my neck as I felt the weight of the necklace disappear.

Pulling away I couldn't help but laugh as Oscar threw the necklace towards the drawers opposite his bed, the small chain sliding across the surface before dropping down the back. Letting out a chuckle of his own he laid himself down pulling me towards him do that my head was resting on his chest, his arm wrapping around me waist from behind while his other was folded under his head.

"Night Lia." He mumbled, placing a small kiss on my forehead.

"Goodnight Oscar." I whispered into the otherwise silent room, placing a brief kiss to his bare chest before drifting off into the darkness.

——————

"Aye Spooky! Where you at?" Accompanied by a know at the door make me jump the next morning as I was getting myself a glass of water in Oscars kitchen the next morning.

Since I'd always been an early bird, as my mother would put it, it was no surprise that I had woken up before Oscar and Cesar, my head resting on Oscars chest with his arms wrapped around me tightly.

"Spooky man, open up!" A different voice called from outside again accompanied by a know that was more like banging.

Sighing to myself I debated whether to go and wake Oscar or to just answer the door myself, yet another knock on the door answering my question for me.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I opened the door to be met with the same Santo that had stepped up to Diego yesterday along with another one that I recognised from the Monse and Cesar fight, the one who tried to step up to me, bitch.

"Where's Spooky?" The bitch asked as he looked me up and down with smirk, only then did I remember that I was in the same clothes I'd slept in, a pair of Oscar's boxers and my tank top, luckily I had remembered to put my bra back on when I'd gotten up this morning.

"How 'bout you show me a little respect before I slam this door in your culo feo." I smiled sarcastically crossing my arms over my chest before the other guy got my attention.

"Hey, uh, Lia right?" He asked with furrowed brows like he was trying to remember. "I was there when your boy came for you." He smiled slightly.

"Right." I nodded. "Thank you for that." I smiled sincerely, genuinely thankful that he had stepped in.

"I'm sad eyes by the way." He smiled as he stuck his hand out for me to shake. "And that's Johnny." He nodded over to his companion.

"Lia." I smiled putting my hand in his and shaking it lightly. "But you already knew that." I laughed.

"Is spooky here or what?" Johnny huffed against the door frame, once again letting his eyes roam my half naked body.

"Spooky's gunna kick the shit outta you if you don't stop looking at her like that." Cesar's voice made me jump as he came to the door with a glass of juice in one hand. "Here." He smiled as he handed me the juice while taking the water from my other hand.

"Oh, thank you C." I smiled as I took a sip. "Oh shit yeah, you guys wanna come in?" I asked quickly remembering the two Santos stood waiting in the doorway.

"Thanks." Sad eyes laughed as he made his way in, fist bumping Cesar on his way.

"Apologise." I said, putting my arm across the doorway before Johnny could walk in, looking up at him with a smirk as he glared down at me. "Apologise for acting like a jackass or you can wait for Spooky out in the yard." I shrugged as he looked at me in disbelief. "Oh, and it rained last night so the couch is slightly damp." I shrugged again as I went to close the door before his hand stopped me.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He smiled sarcastically as he tried to take a step inside.

"You're sorry for what exactly?" I smirked as I stepped in his way again, getting a kick of amusement at the scowl on his face. "Well, I'm waiting." I sighed tapping my invisible watch on my wrist.

"I'm sorry for being a jackass." He groaned rolling his eyes. "Happy?" He sighed as he looked down at the smirk on my face.

"Very." I smiled as I moved out of his way to let him in, closing the door behind him.

"Aye spooky! Where you been man? Damn hyna trying to make me wait inside." Johnny cheered as Oscar appeared from the hallway in nothing but the pair of shorts that he'd slept in last night.

Sure, Oscar Diaz wasn't exactly rocking an eight pack and abs of steal, but my god was he something to look at first thing in the morning. I couldn't help but blush as his eyes landed on me, scanning me up and down quickly before he looked back to Johnny, giving him an uninterested look before shaking his head and heading into the kitchen.

"Lia." He called looking over his shoulder at me. "Come here a second." He added, motioning for me to go over to him.

"What's up?" I asked standing next to him as he opened the fridge only to from when it came up empty.

"I was gunna ask if you wanted anything but I gotta go to the store." He groaned rubbing a hand over his tanned head.

"I can take a walk to that cafe down the street, mama coco's is it?" I asked recalling seeing the small cafe a few times since I'd been back in town.

"Nah." He muttered shaking his head, closing the fridge and heading back into the living room. "Johnny, go down to mamma coco's and grab me a coffee and one of those roll things I like." He told him before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a twenty and throwing it onto the Santos lap.

"Do you normally sleep with cash on you?" I asked amused knowing that he had slept in those very shorts. "My bad." I giggled as he turned to look at me with an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Nah, the girl just offered man." Johnny shrugged as he picked up the cash and held it out for me to take.

"I don't care." Oscar muttered as he pushed his outstretched hand away. "What do you want?" He asked looking over his shoulder at me.

"I'll have a tea with two sugars please." I smiled at him. "Oh! And a blueberry muffin!" I added excitedly, smirking when Johnny rolled his eyes.

I laughed as Johnny stood up with a huff before making his way out of the house, with one last laugh I made my way back to Oscars room to put on my clothes from yesterday since the rest of my stuff was back at Ruby's.

"Weren't you wearing that yesterday?" Monse's voice made me jump as I made my way back into the living room that was now occupied by Oscar, Sad eyes and the core 4, plus Olivia. The core 4 was dotted around the room, Sad eyes was laid back on the recliner in the corner while Oscar and Olivia was on the couch, their thighs brushing slightly, a wave of jealousy washing over me before I shook it off, he wasn't mine, I had no right to be jealous over silly little things like that.

"Uh yeah, I haven't been back to Ruby's because, well, ya know." I shrugged slightyl before turning to the blonde girl. "You must be Olivia." I smiled over at the young girl, I'd never met her before, or even heard of her before mum and Geny told me about he staying.

"That's me." She smiled. "You're Lia right?" She said, crossing one leg over the other subconsciously pushing hers and Oscars legs closer together.

"And my date to the dance on Friday." Cesar grinned as he came over to where I was stood and out his arm over my shoulders.

"Strictly friends only, got it." I raised my eyebrows as I looked to him, making him chuckle and nod in agreement.

"Since when are you taking her?" Monse asked confused, ignoring the looks that the rest of the crew was giving her instead opting to keep her attention on me and Cesar.

"Since last night when she told me that she'd never been to her own school dances." He shrugged casually, to him it was no big deal but I could see I'm Monse's eyes that she was hurting.

"You know I don't have to go, not if you two were planning on going together." I said quickly, not looking to be in the middle of a teenage love triangle or whatever this shit was.

"Nah, we're just friends, right monse?" Cesar shrugged as he pulled me close to his side, Monse not missing the gesture.

"Right." She mumbled looking at the ground just as Johnny stormed in and threw a paper bag down onto the ktichen counter before putting the drinks down considerably gentler.

"Oh food!" I grinned as I pulled away from Cesar's hold, jumping up on the counter and opening up the bag, immediately pulling out my blueberry muffin and digging in, sending a muffin filled smile in Johnny's direction. "Gracias." I smirked as he shook his head and leant against the wall.

"Aye where's mine foo'?" Oscar piped up, leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched me finish my muffin, throwing the wrapper to the side before taking a sip of my tea.

"I'm the bag." I shrugged with a smirk, watching as his eyes lit up with amusement while Ruby and Jamal watched with horror on their faces.

"Is that right?" He asked smirking at me with an eyebrow raised.

"That's right." I nodded as I blew into the lid of my tea before taking another sip.

"You not gunna bring it here?" He asked tilting his head to the side slightly like a confused puppy.

"I'm sorry, remind me how much you're paying me to be your waitress again?" I asked sarcastically, laughing as Ruby and Jamal's eyes widened that little bit more.

"I'll get it for you Mr Spooky Sir." Jamal said quickly getting up from his seat and rushing towards the bag only for me to grab the bad and hold it behind my back.

"Nu-Uh." I muttered shaking my head with a chuckle. "I'm gunna need the owner of the bag to come and collect it thank you." I smirked looking from Jamal to Oscar who was watching me with an amused smile on his face before he pushed himself to his feet and walked over.

"I'm right here." He smirked making Jamal jump as he appeared behind him. "Can I get my food now?" He asked as Jamal scurried back to his spot making me laugh.

"Of course." I grinned handing the bag over. "What do I get for keeping it safe for you?" I asked quietly, knowing that the other people in the room were watching the interaction.

"I could think of something." He muttered, a smirk on his face as he stepped closer.

"Oh yeah?" I smirked back as he took another step so that we were basically chest to chest only having to look up at him slightly from where I was sitting on the counter.

"Yeah." He mumbled before taking my head in his hands and bringing his lips down on mine in a slow but butterfly filled kiss.

The joint "Oh my god." From Ruby and Jamal making us pull apart slowly with small smiles on both our faces.

#on my block imagines #cesar diaz #on my block #on my block imagine #ruby martinez #monse #spooky diaz #Oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz imagines #Oscar diaz series #on my block series #temporary part six #temporary #temporary series #spooky diaz imagine #spooky diaz imagines

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sexy-rex · 2 years ago

Text

Male!reader + Rex, Wolffe, Bly, Fox, Echo and Dogma (with cameo from

Aayla), 3500 words

Reader makes a wish to be young again and his wish is granted. This is a fun exploration of how certain clones could be with a baby

@redheadjustin happy 20th birthday 🥳

You are having a hard day, not in the way that anything in particular has gone wrong, but more in the way that your brain has chosen today to be a complete and utter dick.

You remember a time when things were simpler, not simple, because things had never ever been that, but they had been easier.

You’d known what you’d needed to do and you’d done it. The long-necks had made the games and you’d played them all to perfection. But now it’s you making the strategies and the battleplans and there are real consequences.

You’re tired of the weight of it all, you just want to not think about it for a while, so you walk, and you walk, and you don’t know how long you’ve walked for but when you eventually look up you don’t recognise where you are.

“You lost, dear?” A person, could be a man or woman for all you knew, the way they’re bundled up in the cloak, asks you. “You look like you’re carrying the whole world on your shoulders. C’mon, come over here out of the rain for a bit.”

You think for a moment and then shrug because really it isn’t as if you had anything better to do. You are drenched through and regretting that you’d chosen to leave the barracks in your uniform and not your armour. It’s nice to step out of the rain and there’s a small heat lamp overhead which you warm your hands under.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Not at all, dear, not at all. At lot on your mind I should expect.”

“Hmm,” you reply noncommittal, turning around to look back out at the rain. “I was thinking how nice it would be, to just be young again.”

Your companion chuckles. “Oh yes, if only we could turn back the clock”

“Hmm, if only.” You agree, wishing wholeheartedly for it to be possible, as you continue to watch the rain splash up from the puddles. Your attention is caught suddenly by a movement beside you and you turn your head to look, only to have a handful of dust blown into your face.

You step back coughing and choking. “What was that?”

“Just a little something to help your wish come true.”

“My wish?”

You have no idea what they’re talking about but by now you’re starting to feel strange, like your skin is crawling and shifting.

“What did you do?”

“You wished to be young again, I’ve made your wish come true.”

You stare in shocked dismay and horror as you seem to shrink in your own clothes. Your uniform sleeves becoming too long, and the belt on your waist too loose.

“Make it stop,” you demand but by now you’ve lost some of the depth to your voice. This can’t be happening!

“It can’t be stopped once it starts.”

“What?”

Your companion chuckles and as you watch they seem to slowly merge with the fog that has come up around them. You reach out but your hand closes on nothing.

“Wait? How do I undo this?”

“It’ll undo itself, my dear. In time.”

The voice comes back to you on the breeze and then you’re alone, in the dark and rain, and you’re shrinking by the second.

The panic overtakes you and you don’t want to still be out here in this unknown part of the city if you’re going to continue to get smaller. You have no idea where you are so you turn around and quickly start to go back the way you’d come.

Glancing in a few windows as you rush past, you see that your scar is now gone and your hair is shorter, in the more regulation style from your late cadet days.

Oh kriff, you think, this is really happening.

You start to run.

By the time you’re back at the Barracks, how much time later, you’ve reached at least mid cadet age and you duck and dive, trying not to be seen as you make your way to your quarters.

The relief washes over you when you finally close the door behind you and lean against it for support.

Whatever that cloaked figure had done to you it would wear off! You hold that thought close to you as your exhaustion pushes you towards the bed. You’d be back to normal in the morning.

You hadn’t been at the briefing, which is strange because you’re always the first at the briefings. Maybe you’re sick, Rex thinks as he makes his way to your quarters and knocks on the door.

“Y/n, you in there?”

There’s no response, so he knocks again, and this time he hears a shuffling and a thump and then the sounds of little feet, before there’s a flat palmed hand bashing on the other side of the door.

“Y/n?” He asks uncertainly because this is all very strange and urgently he uses the code he’s been given to unlock the door to your quarters.

There’s a little naked tubie sitting on the floor looking up at him and as he stares the toddler shambles to his feet using his hands to push himself up, and reaches with his small arms for Rex to pick him up.

He’s had a lot of experience with nursery duty on Kamino so it's not as if he’s out of his element here, but he just can’t work out what this tubie is doing here and no sign of you.

“Where’d you come from, little fella?” He asks as he lifts the toddler up and carries him carefully over to the bed.

There’s a bundle of your clothes on the sheets, looking like you’ve just disappeared out of them and Rex frowns again wondering about how strange this situation is.

The tubie sits in the middle of the bed, tugging on his little toes while Rex riffles through some drawers and eventually finds a training shirt that should be suitable to dress the toddler in, with a few minor adjustments.

Once he’s satisfied, he settles the child on his hip, not at all surprised when the tubie snuggles into him, but a little surprised by how calm and comfortable the tubie is with him, almost as if they’ve known each other before now.

Rex turns and makes his way back to the briefing room, making faces at the little tubie the whole way. The others are still waiting and when he walks in they all look up and then have the same identical look of incomprehension on their faces.

The tubie coos and points and struggles to be put down so Rex put him down on his little chubby feet.

“I didn’t find y/n, but I didn’t find him.”

They all watch as the toddler purposefully makes his way to your usual chair and then uses all his strength and skill to lift himself up and sit triumphantly at the briefing table, bashing his little fists on the surface.

“Okay, he’s cute.” Bly says, and they all groan a little because they know how broody Bly is right now and that he’ll get starry eyed about almost every infant thing. It was the curse of being in love it would seem.

“He was just in y/n’s room?” Wolffe asks. “You don’t think he’s y/n’s do you?”

“He’s definitely a tubie.” Fox answers. “Unless y/n stole him from Kamino then it’s doubtful.”

Bly is kneeling down by the tubie and showing him all the cool little things from his utility belt.

“You like that buddy?” He laughs as the tubie picks up his switchblade and Rex takes it quickly off of him.

“Not a suitable toy for a tubie, Bly.” He chastises and Bly looks suitably chastised, looking like he’s making an internal note for future reference.

“What do we do with him?” Fox asks dubiously.

“I guess we look after him till y/n gets back.” Bly eagerly replies. “I can take first watch, I’ve got a free morning.”

“Fine, I’ll take him after you.” Wolffe reluctantly concedes.

“I’m in the senate most of the day but I can take him after my shift finishes.”

The tubie is playing with the lights and buttons on the briefing table and images and graphs keep popping up and enlarging and disappearing again.

“I’ll pick him up from you then Wolffe and drop him off with you Fox.”

With all that agreed they went about their days, leaving Bly with the little tubie.

Bly is as happy as can be as he carries the cooing and chuckling tubie with him to meet Aayla, but the journey takes much longer than expected because every few feet the toddler points at something else and says ‘that’ and then Bly is there for several minutes while the child examines all the colours and texture of the brick wall.

“You’re late,” Aayla quips playfully when he eventually meets her by the fountain, but her whole demeanour changes when sees the tubie. “Oh, how adorable.”

The tubie reaches for her and she takes him and Bly stands there for a moment and smiles at the look of adoration on Aayla’s face. The tubie stares at Aayla with big searching eyes and then tugs on her lekku and she laughs.

“Where did he come from?” She asks once the toddler has had enough of her and is trying to get down to the water of the fountain, reaching with his little grasping fingers.

“Y/n.” He answers with a shrug and the tubie giggles and laughs as Aayla ducks him down towards the water, getting his hands wet before moving him away again.

“Do you want children, Bly?” She asks quietly and as if it’s not an important subject but they both know that’s not true and it’s very important to both of them.

“One day, when the war is over.” He answers honestly.

Wolffe is still reading over data pad reports when he goes to pick up the little tubie from Bly.

“I think he’s hungry,” Bly says as he hands the toddler over, pressing quick kisses to his soft curly hair, before Wolffe walks away with him.

“Are you hungry, little one?” Wolffe asks as the tubie reaches up and touches the scar on his eye. “Ugly, isn’t it?” He mutters. “But don’t you worry, I’m not scary.”

Or, at least, he isn’t scary to this little vod’ika, he couldn’t make any promises to anyone else.

The mess hall isn’t too busy just now and he picks up some food before finding a quiet table. There weren’t many options for a tubie but he thought he could make the soup work.

He settles the toddler on his knee, one arm braced around the child’s torso to keep him safe and steady, while the other hand picks up the spoon.

The child’s eyes dart from him to the spoon and when Wolffe takes too long he moans and shakes his little fists.

“Now, I’ll have none of that.” He warns and the toddler looks at him and pouts but doesn’t put up any more of a fuss.

By the time they are done with the meal, both the tubie and himself are covered in soup and he’s very thankful that he’s wearing armour and could just wash himself down before Sinker and/or Boost see him.

He takes a napkin and clears the child’s face as best he can and the child wriggles and pushes trying to stop him.

“There, all clear again, isn’t that better?” He asks and the tubie giggles at him him before hitting him with the spoon.

Rex isn’t sure what he’ll do with the little tubie, he already has his hands full with his supposedly grown up troopers. Maybe he would deal with both and bring the tubie to the troopers and then he could keep an eye on all of them.

He had to laugh when he sees Wolffe seated at the mess hall table, covered in soup and trying to wrestle a spoon out to the toddlers hand while the toddler laughed and hit him repeatedly on the head with it.

“Having fun, vod?” He asks as he walks up and Wolffe raises an eyebrow at him, before handing the dirty child over.

“He’s all yours, I’m going to clean up.”

Wolffe won’t admit it but he will miss his time with the little tubie.

Rex watches him walk off with a shake of his head and then makes his way to the 501st Barracks. The whole time they’re walking the tubie is trying to grasp handfuls of his short hair and failing, but he seems mesmerised by the blond.

“Do you little it?” He asks. “Y/n likes it too.” He adds conspiratorially and the toddler chuckles and coos like he’s somehow in on the joke.

The Barracks are full of noise and chaos and he tries his best not to see most of what is going on around him. He’d be having a word with Hardcase and Jesse later no matter what.

The tubie clutches on to him and ducks his head into Rex’s neck and he thinks maybe the little one is upset by the noise, so he heads to a quieter part of the room.

Echo is lying on a bottom bunk flicking through a data pad and he glances up at Rex before doing a double take as he spots the tubie.

“What is this?” He asks as he sits up and Rex sits down beside him, bouncing the child on his knee.

“This is our responsibility for the next few hours.”

Echo looks at him with wide eyes and when the tubie reaches over to him, his eyes widen even more and seem to ask if it’s okay. Rex nods and smiles as he hands the tubie over and Echo holds him up under his arms, standing the little chubby feet on his thighs, as they both stare intently at each other.

“Hello, I’m Echo.” He eventually says. “Do you want to hear something interesting about the rules of first contact with a new race?”

Rex scoffs: “Humph, yea, I think he could probably do with a nap.”

Echo glares at him: “It’s actually very interesting, Captain.”

“I’m sure it is, and I’m sure our little charge will love to hear all about it.”

Echo lies back and places the tubie on his chest before picking up the data pad and beginning to read again, softly aloud this time.

Rex doesn’t move from his place on the edge of the bed, but he does lean his forehead against the bunk support and close his eyes.

Listening to Echo read is very soothing to both the little tubie and the Captain.

Echo watches the toddler as he reads, and the toddler watches him in return, and it looks like the only one sleeping right now is Rex.

It’s when he’s finishing up his section that Dogma comes in and throws himself down on the bunk next to Echo, not even looking at him.

“They’re all a bunch of di’kuts,” he whines and Echo nods in both sympathy and empathy.

“Do you want to say hello to my new friend?” Echo asks and Dogma side eyes him before spotting the tubie.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Sure is,”

Echo sits the tubie up on his chest and Dogma comes over instantly, kneeling down on the floor in front of them both to bring himself to the same level as the toddler and the tubie throws himself forward and into Dogma’s arms, wrapping his small arms around Dogma’s neck.

Dogma freezes not knowing what to do but slowly slowly he starts to relax and in a little while he’s sitting crossed legged on the floor cradling the child against his chest and gently rocking back and forth, muttering quietly to the tubie the whole time.

It’s the crash of something falling and the yelling and shouting that breaks their tranquil moment and both the tubie and Dogma recoil from the noise.

Rex is wide wake and on his feet before he even knows where he is or that his name is. He looks at Echo and then Dogma on the floor with the tubie and then he exhales deeply.

“What‘ve they done this time?” He asks tiredly and shakes his head. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to say goodbye to the little one now, Dogma.” He says reluctant to disturb either the toddler or his trooper when they look so peaceful.

Dogma stands up and unlatches the toddlers arms from around his neck.

“It’s okay, Captain.” He says as he quickly walks away. Rex exchanges a look with Echo and Echo nods getting up to go after him.

Fox is just heading into his office when Rex turns up with the tubie on his hip.

“My turn now, hm?” He asks and reaches out for the toddler who goes to him without a moment’s hesitation. “Trusting little thing, aren’t you?”

“Why shouldn’t he be?” Rex asks. “We’re all vode here.”

Fox shrugs slightly and goes into his office, closing your door behind him.

“Okay you,” he says to the child, holding him under his arms dangling him above the ground. “It’s just me and you now so what’re we going to do?”

In response and right on cue, the tubie pees all down the front of his armour.

Fox stands there for a moment that stretches to two and then three, before he laughs.

“Don’t be shy, let me know what you really think of me.”

The toddler kicks his legs happily.

“I’m so glad one of us is happy.” Fox says his tone light and carefree even though he feels the exact opposite.

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

His small ‘fresher is just large enough to fit him with the tubie perched on the side of the sink, his chubby legs hanging over the edge and swinging.

First Fox dries himself off and then he turns his attention to the child, filling the basin with just enough warm water to splash and wash the toddler clean.

The little outfit Rex had made for the tubie is wet too so Fox removes it and wraps the tubie up in one of his towels.

The towel is so large the tubie disappears and when Fox flips it down so the child can see the child flips it back up again and before he knew it they were playing a classic game of peekaboo and the tubie is laughing so hard and happily that Fox can’t help laughing too.

“You funny little thing.” He mutters as he picks the child up and goes back into his office. He has a small cot set up in the corner for those nights when he has to work late and it isn’t worth going back to his quarters.

He lies the tubie down on the blanket and then lies down beside him, curling himself around the tubie. The toddler kicks his legs in the air and waves his arms and Fox watches him until his eyes droop closed and then he watches him some more before his eyes droop closed again.

The tubie falls asleep before his does, but only just.

You wake up with someone’s chest snug against your back and someone’s arm draped over your torso. You have no idea where you are but the office does look strangely familiar.

The more your eyes focus, the more awake you become, the more you realise exactly where you are and that it’s Fox who’s spooning you.

You don’t remember much about your previous day, only strange disjointed images and strong feelings of being loved and looked after by your brothers.

The lost feeling you’d had the night before last has now been replaced by a calm understanding of your place in the universe and how loved you are.

Fox shifts and moves behind you, waking up, and you suddenly notice that you’re literally butt naked. You grab the blanket quickly and pull it around you for modesties sake as Fox opens his eyes and stares at you blankly.

“What is the kriff,” he says slowly, “are you going in my bed, y/n? And where the kriff is the tubie?”

“It’s a long and interesting story, Fox. Let me start at the beginning.”

#the clone wars #clone wars #male reader #captain rex #commander bly #commander fox #commander wolffe #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #clone trooper dogma #my fic writing #miiine #Mo #tcw #de aged

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in-the-name-of-styles · 4 years ago

Text

Need You.

Author’s Note: Hello! After answering tons and tons of asks, and explaining how Tumblr had deleted the second part “Please Stay” to my one shot named “Only If” for god knows what reasons. I had to do this for you guys. I stopped writing years ago, and but kept my masterlist open for you to come and read my writings whenever you wish to. Trust me, this was so effing difficult for me to do! but I’m kind of proud that I removed the time and managed it. but let me inform you it’s not the same, because I do not remember what happened in the original one clearly. I hope this is a better and hopefully more well-written (amongst my other writings *cringe*) version of the old one.

It’s not proof read. I haven't edited it, so I’m sorry in advance for the typos.

So, guys, gals and non-binary pals, I present to you (apology for it being light years late) the part two to your favourite little creation of mine “Only If”, with a new identity... please welcome “Need You”!

Do let me know how it makes you feel in the ask box or comment section. I love reading them. Happy Reading!

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: tons of angst with tons of fluff, sensitive harry???? (or do you guys call it sub!harry nowadays??) anyways it’s a cute!harry :P !

It’s been four hours, and you still weren’t back. Though it wasn’t new for you to go for a drive after an argument with him, you often came back within an hour or two. The blizzard outside was making Harry quite anxious. Even though the fight was extreme, he wanted you back safe and sound. He now realised how harsh he was on you. You didn’t intentionally leak the song. It was a mistake and it could happen to anyone, himself included. He felt guilty over the way he yelled at you; it wasn’t like him to react like that.

Suddenly, Harry felt the need to do something special for you. Though he planned on apologising to you verbally, he wanted his actions to prove it too. He made his way to the kitchen to cook you your favourite meal. He got a hold of his phone and switched on the playlist which include all the songs both of you enjoyed. the sound of the vessels clucking against each other minimised over the song playing on through the speakers.

A smile lit up on his face as he reminisced back to the moment when you were dancing to this song while making the two of you breakfast.

FLASHBACK

Harry rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs, his dimpled smile already making its appearance when he heard your voice blasting through the kitchen entrance. He didn’t know why you bothered turning the song on so loud, you were anyways going to be louder. He stopped at the kitchen entrance, a silent laugh escaped him as he leaned against the door frame and took in the scene going on in front of him.

“You say you want a good time! Well here I am, baby, here I am, baby” you belted out loud, cheeks turning red with the happiness radiating out of you. You’d decided that the whisk was your microphone of choice with batter stuck to it and everything. You’re moving those luscious hips which drive him crazy right to the rhythm of the song.

“Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me talk to me, tell me what's on your mind!” you missed a note but you don’t care. This scene right in front of him, he wished he could capture and watch it forever. Bruno Mars did bring a wild side out of you, and he couldn’t bring himself to be jealous of the multi-talented singer. He would give anything to see you like this. Knowing you’re the shy type who doesn’t enjoy too much of attention, getting to watch you like this was definitely a sight.

He walked right up to you and wrapped his arms around you slowly. You jumped in a scare, as you were lost in your own world. “Harry! You scared me.” You complained, trying to ignore the blush on you cheeks after you realised he must’ve been watching you from a far.

He nuzzled into your neck and sighed, while pressing a kiss there, “Hmm… I’m sorry, m’love. But you just looked so beautiful I didn’t want to stop you.” He murmured while pressing more kisses to your neck, then trailing them up to your jawline. “Y’ look utterly ravishing right now. Forget pancakes, instead I’ll have you for breakfast.” He smiled and went on to kiss your cheeks. His comments made you smile. He saw his chance and lightly bite the side of your cheek. You squealed and tried to push him away.

“H, stop!” you laughed. He tightened his arms around you and swayed to the beat of the song then went on to sing next lyric “Tell me baby, tell me, tell me baby what you tryna do!” he slightly lifted up your t-shirt and moved one of his hands under it, and muttered, “huh? What are you trying to do to me, baby?” and pressed yet another kiss to your cheek.

“Gosh, your hands are extremely cold!” you gasped. He then turned you around to face him. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him. The two of you smiled quietly towards each other, then he leaned down to kiss you properly. You shifted one of your hands into his the nape of his neck and the other went on to cup his cheek. He moved one of his around your shoulder and the other around your waist. Both of you sighed and bathed in each other’s presence.

“G’morning, froggy” you teased as pulled away first and smiled up at him. He frowned and tutted, then smacked your ass lightly. You always teased him for his morning face, said it looked like a cute frog. He rubbed the area he spanked and quickly pecked you once again before pulling away to look at you.

Brushing away the hair stuck to your face, “Morning, precious. How’re you feeling?” he asked, hugging you towards his chest. Let’s just say the rest of the day went on just like this. Him being needy for your attention, and you loving on him without any hold backs.

END OF FLASHBACK

Right as he was getting ready to plate the dish, the doorbell rang. He smiled, happy to finally have you home. He quickly washed his hands and walked up to the door as he rubbed his hand dry with the towel which was once on his shoulder. He buzzed you in thinking you’ll unlock the main door with the security code. But after two minutes of waiting and not seeing you walk through the door, he turned on the camera above his buzzer to see what was wrong.

He frowned when he saw two police officers standing outside his door. His heart suddenly started racing at rapid speed. He rushed towards the door and unlocked them. Coming face to face with the two sombre looking men, he tentatively asked, “G’ evening, officers. How may I help you?”

The two men exchanged looks and the tall one replied, “Sir, there has been an accident and we found an ID on the victim. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N residence? we’re here to inform you about the unfortunate event.”

“I-I don’t understand? What happened?” he stuttered, his legs almost felt as if they were about to give up.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have much information for you. May we ask what’s your relation to the victim?” the other officer asked, and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Fiancé.” He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down. He could feel his panic attack rising. “I’m her fian-” he shook his head, “Just tell me where she is please…” he pleaded and quickly put on his shoes. He took his car keys and raced up to his rover.

“She’s over at St. Thomas, Mr. Styles.” The officers had clearly recognised the distressed man. “Here’s her ID. We hope everything is well.”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to thank them as he started his car and backed out of the parking spot. He raced up to the hospital, and once he reached, he ran up to the reception.

“Y-Y/N Y/L/N? S-She just c-came in? I’m her f-fiancé?” He gasped out your name. The lady was busy tending to others to notice him. “Hey! Hey! Please ma’am just tell me where she is!” he was on the verge of weeping in front of her.

The old lady looked at him with a bit of annoyance, “Take a breath, young man. I’m trying my best here!” She walked up to him. “Now tell me, what was her name again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” He rushed. He couldn’t stand straight. Once he got what he wanted, he ran towards the elevator, up to the fifth floor. The corridor was busy and he couldn’t care less about pushing people aside. He just wanted to get to you as soon as he could. He found your door and barged in, not caring about the doctors around your bed.

“Y/N!” He rushed to your side, dropping beside your bed.

“Sir you can’t be her-” the male nurse tried to pull him back.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, precious!” He cried, trying to get the man off of him and get back to you. “I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere- GET OFF ME. SHE NEEDS ME!” he yelled pushing the guy away.

“Hey man you’re no good to her at the moment yeah? Let the doctors do their job!” the nurse tried to make him understand while pulling him back yet again. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to reach to you. He sobbed over your state, blood was streaming down your forehead, and all he wanted to do was protect you and wrap his arms around you.

“No I need to be here! Please let me!” he cried. All of sudden a beep brought his cries to a halt. He looked around frantically wanting to know what had happened. “W-What’s wrong?!” he hiccupped.

The doctor and the nurses around him started rushing around the room. He then heard those words which made his heart stop, “She has flat-lined! Someone pass me the defibrillator!” the doctor raised his voice.

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. The nurse had enough of the unwilling man and pushed him out the door, “Sir we cannot help her if you’re being difficult. Please calm down and go to the waiting room. We will inform you about her doing as soon as we can.” and then shut the door to his face. Harry could no longer see you. The group of doctors, covered your body.

He slid down the wall next to your door and sobbed into his hands. Only if he would’ve stopped you from leaving. Only if he would’ve told you that he forgives you and that he loved you more than anything. Only if he would’ve let the argument die and kiss you instead. Only if…

Later, the upset man walked himself to the toilet. He caught his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t care about his red swollen eyes, his sweaty forehead and matted hair. The image of you lying on that bed yet again brought tears to his eyes. The thought of you not making it made him retch and he rushed into one of the restrooms. He dry-heaved and cried. Once he was able to breathe, he took out his phone.

Sniffling as he dialled the only number he could think of, The voice on the other side made him breakdown. “Mum I-” he couldn’t complete his sentence, as he tried to wipe his eyes.

“Harry? Darling what’s wrong?!” she asked shocked at her son’s rapid breathing.

“Y/N s-she is- Mum I can’t lose her. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let her leave. What if she doesn’t make it?” He wept while running his sticky fingers through his hair.

“Love, what-” she tried to ask him, but he cut her off.

“What if she…What if she dies, mum?” he cried and coughed.

His mother had figured out by now that you were not okay, and might be admitted in the hospital. She tried to calm her son through the phone. Unfortunately, she wasn’t near him and by the time she would reach it might not be enough. So she did the only thing she could once Harry hung up the phone, she rang up his friends.

Harry sat himself down on one of the wating room chairs. No one was telling him anything, he had no idea how you were doing or if you were okay. He was out of tears, and soon enough the exhaustion took over him. He didn’t even realise when he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand brush the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw his two friends crouching in front of him.

“Hey buddy…” Louis smiled softly. Harry jolted back up, and got up to run towards your room. But before he could stand up straight Mitch stopped him. “H, they just came in here to inform us about her condition.”

“How’s she? Is she okay? Is she awake? She needs me, I need to be beside her.” He rushed. His two close friends, tried to calm him down.

“They said she’s stable now, mate. But we aren’t allowed to meet her yet, okay?” Louis stated.

Harry took deep breaths and looking at their extremely destressed friend, Louis pulled him into a hug. Getting the comfort he desperately needed, Harry started sobbing again. He was tired of crying but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Everything is going to be okay, Harry. She’s our little tigress, she’s going to pull through, yeah?” Mitch ran a hand drown his friend’s shoulder. Harry nodded lightly and tried to slow down his heart.

48 Hours Later

It’s been two days, yesterday Harry was allowed to visit you since they moved you out of the ICU. Thankfully, your internal recovery was rapid, and you could wake up anytime. He was getting a bit impatient. He wanted to see you open those shiny eyes and look at him the way you always did, with so much love that made him giddy and flustered. These past two days he’s been talking to you, continuously apologising for his behaviour, and how he’s going to make up for everything that went wrong. You just had to come back to him.

“and then Louis got frustrated because Mitch was not answering him. But that’s Mitch for you, right?” he slightly smiled and ran the hand which wasn’t holding you hand, through your hair. “You’re going to hate your hair, once you wake up. You always like them a certain way, don’t you? But don’t you worry, I’ll help you wash your hair as soon as you wake up and come back home.” He stated and kissed your hand. He was silent for a while, just continued to run his hand through your hair.

“You’re going to come back to me, right precious?” he asked quietly, “Why aren’t you waking up, huh? Your froggy needs you to open your eyes....” he continued, as he forced a laugh out of his throat which had a huge lump in it. His eyes turned misty as he continued, “I hate it here. Seeing you like this is a nightmare. I miss you so much. I miss you calling me annoying little names. I miss you smacking me when I’m being a narcissistic little prick. I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, and even though it’s just been two day, I feel like it’s been forever. Wake up, baby. Please…” he pleaded.

As the day turned into night, Harry decided to stay back. He asked for an extra blanket and a pillow for his makeshift bed on the couch. He didn’t know why he bothered because he spent the entire night sitting beside you, holding your hand as he fell asleep leaning against it.

You could listen before you could see. The only thing you could hear was the air conditioner and someone lightly snoring against your right hand. You tried to move your fingers as you opened your eyes. The bright light made you squint, you blinked rapidly as your vision cleared. You turned to your right and saw Harry’s peaceful face sleeping against your hand. You felt the need to clear your throat, and your eyes searched the room for a glass of water. But the sound made Harry wake up from his sleep. He lifted his face and wiped the little drool from his face and the little amount on your hand.

“whoops, you’d kill me now if you were awak-” he turned to look at your face, and he had to double take. He gasped, almost falling off this chair. “Y/N…Oh my- you’re awake!” he nearly yelled. He pressed the button to call the nurse and then cupped your face going on to press kisses to your face, “Baby I was so scared. I thought I had lost you!” He laughed his airy laugh and looked at you with utter happiness.

For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The words he said to you were the only thing swimming through your mind. For you time had stood still, like the fight had happened mere hours ago. You moved your face away from his hands. Harry frowned noticing this change in your mood.

“Hey what’s wrong? The doctor is on her way, yeah. Do y’need anything?” he asked frantically following your eyes round the room. He saw you eye the plastic cup beside your bed, “Y’ want water? Hold on I’ll get it for you.” He ran to the other side and brought the cup up to your face. You didn’t realise how thirsty you were until the first sip hit your throat, you started gulping it down quickly.

“Take it easy, precious. They took out the tube just yesterday.” He explained softly.

Once your thirst was quenched he kept the cup aside then went on to pull his sleeve over his knuckles and wiped the wet corners of your mouth. You moved your face aside yet again, he couldn’t understand what was wrong. But before he could ask you, the doctor came in to check on you. She did her tests and asked a few questions. She left as soon as she was done, and told you even though the injury looked worse than it actually is, you had take it easy for a couple of days.

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, “How’re you feeling, love?” he asked quietly. You nodded, “I’m okay.” He came up to you and raised his hand to caress your cheek. But before he could touch you, your head turned to the opposite side. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he asked you.

“Will you please look at me? What’s happened, precious?” as he caressed your hair.

“Why should I look at you, Harry? So you can tell me how careless I am, or how I’m not trustworthy?” you rasped quietly. For a minute he was unable understand what you were trying to say. Then flashbacks from your fight the other night came back rushing to him. The things he said to you, and how guilty he felt later. His words had left a huge impact than he thought they did.

He took your face in his hand with very much to little force, he had to tell you this, “Y/N y’have absolutely no idea for how sorry I am for that night-” but you didn’t let him complete.

“That’s only because I got into this accident.” You snapped. He shook his head rapidly, he saw you getting worked up over this. You’ve always been a little firecracker, and you never failed to tell him when he was being a dick or to defend yourself quite amazingly, he always loved that quality. Apropos, he couldn’t let you hurt yourself in this condition.

“First of all, please calm down-” he started, “don’t tell me to calm down, harry!” you raged. He hated himself for smiling when you’re clearly very upset. But for the past few days he had to witness you lie there lifeless which had taken a toll on his mental state. He loved the fact that you were awake, so you yelling at him was more of a reward than a punishment. You looked at him sharply and saw him not taking you seriously, this brought tears to your eyes.

You sniffled and looked away from him to rest your head against the pillows on the raised up side of your bed roughly. Harry’s small smile melted away as quickly as it appeared. He rubbed the side you almost banged to the pillow, “I’m so sorry, precious. I swear I did not mean anything I said.” He pleaded and took a seat down on the chair beside you.

Right then the nurse which pushed him out of the room the other day and now was much like a friend to him entered the room with a tray which had a bowl of soup and jello in it. Harry smiled at him gratefully and took the tray from him as the guy set up the table on your bed.

“How’re you feeling, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked once he was ready to leave. You gave him a small smile and said you were feeling better. The moment he left Harry looked back at you with a longing look on his face, when you refused to look at him he sighed and set the tray down on the small table and took a seat in front you on the bed. He looked at you as he removed the metal spoon from its cover, and then went on to remove the cover set on top of the soup. He blew light air on the spoonful of soup, then brought it up to your mouth. You refused to touch it. He sighed and looked at you pleadingly, “Y’ know someone told me we shouldn’t remove our anger on food.” He stated, turning your words against you.

You glared at him in anger for minute as he looked at you with a loving smile. “Please?” He moved it closer to your mouth, “You’ve got to eat it, I’m not budging unless you do, Y/N.”

Even though you wanted to stay stubborn, you were kind of hungry. So you let him feed you the soup. When he got to the jello, you refused profoundly. “But it’s the chocolate flavoured one! Remember the time we used to share one when I was here for my fractured foot? C’mon we’ll share this one too, if y’want?” he tried convincing you with his soft eyes.

“I don’t want to share it with you. Actually, I don’t want anything to do with you at the moment to be completely honest.” you snapped. You were aware of the fact that you were being very unreasonable and bitchy but it was his words that has caused extreme hurt to you. Your words hurt Harry, and it was evident on his face. He wrapped up the jello and cleared everything. The day passed, and in the evening your last visitor entered the room.

“There she is!” Louis came up to you and hugged you lightly, making sure not to hurt you. “Hello, darling. How’re you?” he kissed your forehead. Harry left you alone with him as he went to get the two of them some coffee.

“What’s happened to him? Why the long face still? I mean I get that Harry loves to pretend that he’s this macho man and all. S’ a bit ridiculous to be honest. Like who’s he kidding, he’s a puppy.” Louis laughed. You smiled at this.

“I’m still a bit upset with him over our fight. So I haven’t been talking to him.” You explained. Louis frowned at this and then sighed, “Oh love don’t do that... This has been very tough for him. Should’ve seen his state these past few days. The man has been a mess ever since the officers came to your house that night.”

“I’m trying, Lou. But I just can’t forget all the things he said. I was so hurt, I still am!” you rubbed your forehead, as it was beginning to give you an ache.

“He’s very sorry, Y/N. Trust me when I say that I’ve never seen him like I saw him that day. He just wanted you to wake up. He was just blaming himself, how he shouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He took a hold of your hand, “he loves you so much, darling. He’s absolutely mad over you.” He rubbed your hand, “A’bit obsessed if you ask me. If I were you I’d have him get that checked with a therapist.” He joked, you laughed loudly. He smiled with you, and passed you the water you signalled for.

“Forgive him, Y/N. He can’t even bring himself to go home. The only time he went there was to get some clothes, and to put the dinner he made for you in the rubbish bin.” He sassed. “and I know I’m speaking for Mitch too here when I say this, but both him and I could use a break from all the non-stop stress weeping calls we’ve been getting from him.” You gasped at him with a mock offence for Harry, and lightly smacked his shoulder. You were always thankful for Louis in moments like these. He was a great friend to you and Harry.

Harry came back with two coffees and passed one to his blue-eyed friend. He took a seat on the sofa which was against the wall, and the three of you, though it was mostly you and Louis, had a light conversation while the men finished up their coffee. Louis bid his farewell with another kiss on your forehead and a well wish, you thanked him and waved goodbye. Harry walked him out the door, and came back in a second later.

“Y’ need anything?” He asked as he took a seat on the chair beside you. You shook your head as you observed him fidgeting with the cuticles of his nails. He did that when he was anxious.

Neither of you spoke for a while. But the minute you heard a sniffle, you snapped your head towards him. You tried to get a look at his face, the tip of his nose was a bit red and he was now fidgeting with his feet too. He wasn’t crying but he sure was on the verge of it.

You suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of love for the man in front of you. You leaned against your bed and sighed, smiling a little. It’s pathetic how in love you were with each other. You couldn’t even stay mad at him.

“Harry?” You whispered softly. He hummed without looking up. So you continued, “I need you to do something” you faked a stern voice to play with him a bit more.

“Yeah sure, what’s it?” he muttered as he got up and rubbed his hands down his thighs, then finally looked at you. You looked at him without an expression and said, “I need you to come here and give me a good cuddle, a kiss too if I like the cuddle.” And then smiled at him lovingly. He looked at you for a second. You almost thought he was going to yell at you, but the opposite happened. He started tearing up and heavy tear drops ran down his cheeks.

You gasped and quickly leaned forward to take a hold of his hand which was near you. “Oh Harry..” You whispered as you pulled him near you. He the minute you sat him in front of you, he started crying heavily. You were so shocked yet you’ve never been more mesmerised by him. You quickly tried wiping his tears away and comforted him, “Honey, don’t cry. I’m not upset anymore!”

“I-I’m honestly s-sorry! I promise I didn’t mean what I said that day, Y/N!” he tried to speak while wiping his tears.

“I know, babe. I know!” you tried to say it properly but it came out in a laughing manner and tried to draw the crying man close to you, but seeing you laugh made him more upset and he pushed you away lightly, so you forcefully pulled him into a cuddle.

He told himself he’s letting himself be pulled because he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was actually because he wanted you close, so he went in head first. You lay down against the pillows and cuddle him against your chest. He went on sniffling into your neck and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Harry why are you crying!” you tried controlling your laughter. He whined and pulled his face away, “Y’were so fucking mean since the moment you woke up. I didn’t expect it.” He said and hiccupped, thanks to the sobbing breakdown he just had. You pulled on your lips so you wouldn’t smile.

“Well now you know, honey. It hurts, doesn’t it? You were so mean to me too!” You teased. He nuzzled back into your neck, pressing kisses there which always made you giggle.

“I’m really sorry, precious. Honestly, I really am.” He said into your neck, yet producing another hiccup. You couldn’t control yourself anymore so you smiled and pressed a quite a few smooches to his temple, and inhaled his comforting scent.

“It’s okay, baby. I forgive you. I’m sorry for my foolish mistake too, I really didn’t mean to ruin your hard work like that.” You apologised. He pulled away and brought the hand that was around your waist to your cheek and said, “I forgave you a long time ago, but you honestly don’t have to apologise at all. It could happen to anyone, m’love. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Y’know I made dinner and everything as an apology. But then the officers…” his tone dropped and he couldn’t continue. So, you sadly smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

He sighed and reciprocated the kiss with so much love and passion that you couldn’t help but wrap the arm which around his shoulder a bit more tighter and ran the other through the back of his head gently. The two of you pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, he moved the hair that escaped from your braid and tucked it behind your ear, “I was so scared. I thought I had lost you.” He whispered softly, and swallowed the small lump, “I missed you a lot, baby” he said and you couldn’t help but peck his cute pout.

“I missed you too, froggy” you replied. The pet name made him reward you with a dimpled smile. He nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“and I love you.” You kissed his forehead.

“Just for your information, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a really long time.” He stated sternly.

You laughed but stopped when you saw he wasn’t joking, “You know I have to work, right?”

“Y’can easily take a break for a month or two.” He said, as he yawned and cuddle closer to you. “A MONTH OR TWO?! Have you gone mad?” you gasped, lightly pulling on his hair.

“No I haven’t. Try to get rid of me, baby. I dare you.” He laughed a scheming laugh. You knew he wasn’t joking. He tended to become quite paranoid and obsessive over you when situations like these occur. But you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We’ll see, mister.” You said, and caressed the back of his head.

“oh we will, missus.”

The End.

Author’s Note: I really put in a lot of efforts on this one, so you guys kind of owe me *wink* y'all gotta humour my praise kink now!!! ;P

Love you guys!

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sergiovinazzi · 3 years ago

Text

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Three)

3.9k words - Rated M (language)

Here it is, my most favourite chapter to date, I hope you enjoy!

You smooth the skirt of your soft, black-linen sundress with shaky hands and pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re regretting not packing anything warmer than the denim jacket currently wrapped around your shoulders when you’re interrupted by the disgruntled sounds of your father calling your name through the phone speaker.

“What?” you ask, exasperated. “Sorry, I got distracted for a second.”

He repeats himself in annoyance, “I said, are you okay with staying at the hotel and ordering dinner for yourself?”

Staring at the restaurant in front of you, you debate whether or not to explain your situation to him. You realise, however, that he probably has enough to worry about after today’s events at Silverstone, and his daughter being out to dinner with another team’s driver probably won’t go over well.

“Yeah,” you lie. “I could use a quiet night in. Will you grab something to eat for yourself on your way back?”

Your dad hums, and you can tell that once he heard the confirmation that he didn’t need to get dinner for you, he lost interest in anything you had to say after the fact. It’s not difficult for you to understand why. Still, the lack of a verbal response worries you and you find it hard to evade the thoughts about Max and the accident. To most, the fact that he got out of the car and could walk was a good sign, but you’re still plagued by the various possibilities of what the hospital tests will conclude and just how bad the damage really is.

“Will you let me know if he’s okay?” you ask quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing the phone closer to your ear, as if you could hone in on the doctor’s discussions in the background to find out whether Max was going to be alright.

Your dad simply hums again. “I’ll text you when we know more, but I’ve gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, dad,” you murmur.

His quick Bye, love you is rapidly replaced with the end-of-call dial tone.

You slip the phone into your jacket pocket and take a deep breath, preparing to head inside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but clock the bright orange McLaren already stationed in the parking lot when your Uber arrived. You recognised it from a picture in the article you read when you first learned of Lando’s incident at Wembley. You’re thankful for the sign that he’s already here and you dredge up the remaining ounces of fake confidence left in your body, making an effort to quickly smooth down your hair before you open the door and enter the restaurant.

You’re immediately overwhelmed by the sheer atmosphere of elegance. Hand-painted horizons adorn the walls, encapsulated by swirling silver frames and accentuated by the small lights stationed above each piece of artwork, their job for the night to highlight the colours and shading the artist undoubtedly spent hours perfecting.

The savoury scents of garlic and soy originate in the kitchen and permeate across the premises with ease, challenged only by the rousing aroma of the stunning frangipanis adorning the entrance.

A woman you guess to be around your age approaches you with a notepad and pen in hand. She’s dressed in a black bodycon skirt with a hem that scrapes the top of her knees; her matching coloured button up shirt is tucked in smoothly. “Hi,” she greets with a small smile, “Would you like me to show you to the bar?”

“Oh, I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone here,” you tell her, eyes scanning the room for Lando.

You see him before he sees you.

He’s tucked away at a table in the corner, his brown curls peaking over the top of the large menu he's studying.

“Found him, thanks,” you tell the waitress and she returns to her station as you make your way across the restaurant towards Lando.

He looks up from the menu as your figure appears in his peripherals and he shoots you a wave when you’re a few metres away. You return his gesture with a small laugh and he stands, walking to the front of the table to greet you.

“Hey,” he says, enveloping you in a one-armed hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Me too. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” you tell him, noticing the almost empty glass of beer in front of him as he returns to his seat.

“It wasn’t too long, don’t worry,” he reassures you.

The reality of the situation fails to present itself to you until you and Lando are seated silently across from one another. Your stomach is tightly wound with nerves but Lando appears just as anxious, noticeably fidgeting in his seat and frequently straightening his knife and fork. He’s dressed rather sharp compared to what you’d been treated to in the past, the blue and orange race suit discarded for a crisp white button down and black dress shorts. You wonder whether the outfit you picked out is suitable for tonight, although you cut yourself some slack. When you’d packed your suitcase on Wednesday, you’d hardly expected to spend any time outside of the Red Bull garage or your hotel room, let alone situated in a restaurant that was, now very obviously, out of your price range. The thought causes you to send a silent prayer to whoever would listen that you had enough in your spending account to pay your half of the final bill tonight.

The woman who greeted you earlier approaches the table to ask what drinks the two of you would like to order.

Lando asks for a cola and you look at him in confusion.

“You’re not going to have another one?” you ask him as he hands over his empty beer glass.

“No, I’m not a big drinker,” he replies, “Especially not during the season.”

“So why did you invite me to have drinks then?” you ask, clearly amused. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Lando Norris?”

He laughs, and raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey! No, nothing like that. I just don’t really drink, I never have.”

“Yeah I kinda noticed that actually,” you tell him. “Even on your podiums you don’t drink the champagne.”

“I thought you didn’t watch Formula 1?”

You wish you could wipe the stupid smirk off of his face as you practically watch the realisation form in his head. “Have you been watching my old races?”

“No,” you retort somewhat unconvincingly. “I found some highlights on YouTube though, and your podiums from Spielberg and Imola were on there.”

“My podium finish in Monaco is pretty good too. I’d be happy to show it to you sometime, though, it’s a shame that you find racing so boring.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Shut up.”

The warm glow emitting from the industrial-style bulbs resting overhead doesn’t help the blush settling on your cheeks, and neither does the grin Lando shoots you. You shrug off your jacket and place it carefully on the back of your seat just as the waitress arrives with your freshly poured Caiproska. You thank her and trace your fingers along the cool side of the glass, collecting the droplets of condensation that form in hopes that they’ll provide some sort of relief from your keen fever.

Lando’s gaze is strong enough that you feel him watching you without having to look across at him, it transcends the need for observed confirmation and instead sets your body alight merely at the thought of it. The thrum of your heart threatens to escape the confines of your chest and you stupidly pray that he doesn’t hear it as the exposed skin of your chest flushes scarlet against the dark neckline of your dress. You clasp the charm that sits at your throat, pinching it between your fingers and allowing yourself to bask in the minimal relief the cold metal provides against your warm skin.

Lando wipes his sweaty palms on his shorts and takes a deep breath. “So, that was a pretty crazy race today, huh? I didn’t think I’d be able to hold onto fourth place, not with another Ferrari behind me and Daniel.”

“Yeah, it was crazy,” is all you can reply before delving back into your pocket at what you think is the sound of your phone receiving a message.

God, he thinks, he’s boring you half to death. He finally has you all to himself and the only topic he can string more than a few words together for is his job, treating you like a reporter he’s obligated to unpack his strategy for in the paddock. He doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking nervous tonight, he wasn’t nearly this wound up when he’d asked you out. Sure, it was an effort to keep his hands from shaking as he locked his car and crossed the parking lot, but he convinced himself it was just the gentle breeze passing through the city that set his flesh alight with goosebumps. He was simply excited, more than anything, to spend some one-on-one time with someone his own age, and if that someone happened to be a pretty girl, who could blame him for looking forward to it?

But then you showed up in that dress and suddenly the possibility that he’d see you out of it by the end of the night if he played his cards right became more and more realistic. His head spins at the thought of taking you home tonight. And the next night. And suddenly the thought is replaced by the images of himself coming home to you every night. After months overseas with nothing but timezone-dependent calls he returns to the comfort of your embrace, it’s your fingers that gently scrape the back of his neck as a confirmation that he’s home. It’s the warmth of your body and the lilt of no one else’s voice that cures the cavity in his chest that enveloped him the moment he shut the apartment door behind him all those weeks ago. He sees you seated on his kitchen counter, legs swinging as the coffee brews each morning, and asleep on his couch every night even after you’d promised if he let you pick the movie you’d stay awake this time.

He knows he’s in way over his head. He only just met you, what, three days ago? Yet here he sits, wishing there was some magic rule book that could explain how he could make sure his time with you never ends. He wishes he’d met you long before this week –honestly, it feels like he’s known you for much longer–so that the heat that rises underneath his shirt and the lump in his throat doesn't lend itself to the idea that he’s just some lust-fuelled boy. Your text messages make him laugh like no one else’s have before and the thought that you were watching him this afternoon, after you weren’t initially planning to stay for the race, had him feeling more confident than he has all season.

He knows he can’t tell you all that, it’s way too soon and you’ll think he’s crazy. He has to think of something interesting to talk to you about to fill the minutes before he feels it appropriate to ask you out for a second time, but instead he sits in silence as you refuse to meet his gaze. Your eyes won’t stop lingering on your phone screen, or darting around the restaurant, undoubtedly searching for distractions. Signs on the wall you could read to pass the time until the check comes, or maybe you’re searching for a saviour, a bartender to lock eyes with who’ll answer your silent plea: get me the hell out of here. He’s caught off guard when your eyes make their way back to him, his heart skips a singular beat like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He’s preparing himself to appear nonchalant in response to the immaculately crafted excuse you’re undoubtedly about to deliver in order to explain your sudden escape from his company, when a small smile forms on your lips instead.

He smiles back.

“Sorry,” he explains. “I know I talk a lot about racing. It’s kind of my whole life at the moment so it’s easy for me to get carried away.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m kind of used to it anyway. It’s basically all we talk about at the dinner table when my dad’s home.”

“Well, what do you like to talk about? I saw on your Instagram that you’re studying advertising, tell me something about that.”

You smile at his consideration and tell him all about your degree. How you’ve always had an interest in design and noticed how it could be used to turn a profit, right from when you would try your hand at creating the posters for your school’s bake sales and car washes. You tell him the story of your first paid commission for a digital advertisement, an intricately crafted Instagram post for an up-and-coming clothing boutique based in London. He asks questions in all the right places and offers his congratulations when you show him screenshots of some of your most successful work.

Conversation ebbs and flows easily throughout the night, the nerves that had you second guessing your decision to come earlier tonight eradicated. The food is tremendous, and your company even better. Your waitress returns with the final bill for the night and Lando hands his card over without hesitation.

“Hey, no,” you say. “Let me pay for my half.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. “This was my way of repaying you for bringing my watch back, remember?”

Oh. That’s all tonight was for. He felt obligated to spend money on you in return for the trouble you’d gone through to return his stolen timepiece to him.

“When I talked to the police they said they could get me the money back once the guy was caught,” you stress. “So, you don’t need to do that.”

He brushes your statement off with a wave of his hand and smiles when the waitress returns with his card and a receipt.

Your mind mistakes the reverberation of champagne flutes clinking together for the chime of your text tone and you instinctively reach into your purse, hoping to see the screen alight with good news. You’d settle for any news really, so long as it meant you would finally get a clear picture of what was going on, and you could stop embellishing the details of the worst case scenario you had designed in your head.

A 51G impact like the one you had witnessed today can do a lot of damage to the body, whether visible from the outside or not, and you hoped, more than anything, that the helmet and halo were enough to protect Max from anything more than a few minor scrapes and bruises.

You’re lost in a world of nightmarish outcomes until you remember where you are. Lando’s face is contorted in a concerned frown across from you.

“Everything alright?” he asks gently.

“Yeah, sorry, I thought I heard my phone go off but it must’ve been something else.”

“It’s getting pretty noisy in here, do you want to head outside?” he offers.

“Okay.”

———

In the slight summer breeze you observe the moonlight washing across Lando’s figure, illuminating his features softly and elucidating the closeness of his face to yours. The proximity allows you to easily breathe in the pleasant cedarwood undertones of the cologne that adorns his skin, and allows him to imagine the sweet ropy flavour undoubtedly lingering on your tongue from the maraschino cherries you’d so delicately placed between your teeth throughout night.

The crinkles that form at the edges of his eyes as he meets your gaze with a smile are priceless. You wish you could bottle the feeling they give you and save it for a day you need it most.

“I had a nice time,” he tells you, practically beaming. “I can’t remember the last time I went out after a race and talked about stuff other than racing.”

“Yeah it was nice, dinner was really good too.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you stand in silence while you wait for your Uber to arrive. Lando had insisted on driving you back to your hotel but you knew his car would cause a fuss so you declined and told him you had an Uber discount code that was due to expire. You make an effort to seem fascinated by the cracks in the sidewalk and Lando acts intrigued by the streetlights, both of you dancing around the question that lingers unspoken in the air.

Are we going to meet up again?

The alert on your phone informs you that your driver is only a minute away.

“He’s almost here,” you tell Lando. “Thank you so much for paying for dinner, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay!” he insists. He shifts his weight on his feet before offering his arms to you.

You accept his invitation and hug him goodbye. You can’t help but notice the heat radiating through his thin shirt and feel his heart hammering between your two chests. His fingertips burn brands into your skin as they rest softly on your back and when he pulls back from you his hands don’t move an inch.

You catch his gaze and feel his thumb sweep softly over the fabric of your dress, underneath your jacket, before his lips meet yours in a searing kiss.

You’re caught off guard to say the least. His hands are hot on your back but his lips are soft and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t sending your head into a frenzy.

The rest of the day’s events are temporarily overruled by Lando kissing you; lying to your dad about where you are, wishing you could celebrate Lando’s fourth place finish with him in his garage, the repetitive questions aimed at you by the police that had you exhausted by mid morning, let alone Max’s accident.

Max.

And suddenly it’s not Lando’s but another pair of lips that are on yours, larger and hungrier and they come with a devastating reminder of what it’s like to sneak around with a Formula 1 driver. The lying and heartache that you remember all too clearly to feel like the kind of falling that jolts you awake from dreams.

You pull back and place your hands on Lando’s shoulders, staring down.

He’s instantly apologetic, bringing a hand through the front of his hair. “Sorry, I thought…fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, removing your hands and wrapping them around yourself. “It’s okay, um my car’s here anyway so I gotta go.”

He just nods and shoves his hands into his pockets.

The slamming of the car door feels like a hammer pounding in Lando’s head. For a moment he had you. In his hand was the opportunity to make something great out of your meeting, but he wrapped his fingers inward and crushed it in an instant.

———

When you wake the next morning, your head remains sore from the screeching of car engines throughout your eventful weekend. Though not particularly unbearable at the time, the accumulation of noise over the three days you were at the track had definitely built up.

Instinctively, you check your phone, assuming that you would be confronted with your typical notifications: a recommended Instagram account, a liked Tweet, maybe even a text. You know you’re being optimistic to expect anything from Lando, your mind refusing to stop reminding you of how awkward you had made your time together the night before. Still, you yearn for any sort of reassurement that it wasn’t as bad as your overthinking had made it out to be.

You read the time and see that it’s almost noon. You know that your dad will be out until around two o’clock, already fussing about with work related ordeals in order to have things perfect for the race in Hungary. When you eventually awaken enough to read the notifications on your phone, you find it difficult to hide your surprise as you find a text and missed call from Lando, the nervous feeling that you endured last night returns, sinking into your stomach like a stone.

Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I had a really nice time last night :) Sorry if I was too forward at the end, I hope it didn’t ruin your night or anything.

Biting back a smile as you read the text, your mind is put at ease as you realise that he enjoyed himself as much as you did. You’re tempted to text him back immediately and tell him that he’s being silly, that of course he didn’t ruin your night. You wish you could explain your situation with Max and how, if it were any other night than the one your ex-boyfriend spent in hospital, you would have kissed Lando back. However, your plan to reply is thwarted as you notice the notification that informs you Lando also left you a voicemail. He must have called some time after sending his initial text message. Finger hovering over the play button, you are hopeful that it’s further kind words about your time together, or perhaps an invitation for a second ‘date’. If you could call it that. Nevertheless, you push the button.

The disappointed sigh he lets out causes your heart to stutter, before his voice crackles through the phone speaker.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry for calling, I know I already texted you and um… I hate that I have to do this but I think it would be better for you to hear it from me instead of finding out online or something. I’ve just seen that someone got pictures of us together last night. I didn’t think anyone who knew me would be there but I guess it was still close enough to Silverstone that someone recognised who I was. I’m really sorry, but if it is any help I don’t think anyone recognised you because your face isn’t really in the photos. I’m trying to get them taken down and it’s not really on Instagram or in the news or anything, but lots of people on Twitter are talking about it. If there’s anything that I can do, please let me know. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen at his words, breath hitching in your throat as you process it. You replay the message over and over, as if hearing it multiple times will change the bad news Lando delivers each time. Instinctually, you close the app and scrub your hands over your face. You wonder about what exact kind of picture the photos he’s referring to imply. Does it paint a picture that could get you in trouble?

What about Lando?

Fuck.

What about your dad?

Your stomach drops at the thought of him seeing them. Getting caught lying about your whereabouts was one thing, but being caught with Lando Norris while you promised you were tucked up in the confines of your hotel room opens up a whole new world of possible consequences.

As if the universe can read your mind, it delivers your worst nightmare to you on a silver platter, piping hot and laced with venom.

A notification appears from your dad.

Call me when you’re awake.

-------

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

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