#this involves meeting new people as well as reaching out to people I don’t know well and just so much socialing that fuck if I know how to

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

The struggle of putting yourself in the position of having to do a bunch of social stuff for a good cause but meanwhile you have SO MUCH social anxiety

[pucksandpower]

Moments of Glory

Oscar Piastri x Brown!Reader

Summary: notoriously calm and collected Oscar meets his match in the outgoing and extroverted daughter of his boss

Note: this is not the maiden win any of us wanted for Oscar but that doesn’t make it any less deserved — McLaren’s ability to jumble strategy should not take away from his amazing drive

The McLaren Technology Centre hums with energy as Oscar steps through the sliding glass doors, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s his first visit since signing with the team, and the gravity of the moment isn’t lost on him. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

As he walks further into the lobby, a burst of laughter catches his attention. Oscar turns to see a group of people gathered near the reception desk, centered around a vivacious young woman with a contagious smile. Your presence seems to light up the entire room.

“And then I told him, ‘Dad, if you don’t make some cuter merch, I’m going to have to support a different team!’” You exclaim, causing another round of laughter from the group.

Oscar finds himself drawn towards the commotion, his feet moving of their own accord. As he approaches, you notice him and your eyes lock. For a moment, the world seems to stand still.

“Well, hello there, stranger!” You call out, breaking the spell. “You must be our new golden boy. I’m Y/N Brown, resident troublemaker and daughter of the big boss.”

Oscar feels his cheeks flush as he stammers, “H-Hi, I’m Oscar. Oscar Piastri.”

You grin, stepping closer. “I know who you are, silly. I’ve been watching your career for years. Welcome to the family!”

Before Oscar can respond, you’ve wrapped him in a warm hug. He stiffens for a moment, unused to such casual physical contact, but then relaxes into the embrace.

As you pull away, you wink at him. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “I, uh ... I don’t ...”

You laugh, patting his shoulder. “Relax, I’m just teasing. Come on, let me show you around. I bet I know this place better than any of the official tour guides.”

As you lead Oscar through the facility, he finds himself captivated by your energy and enthusiasm. You point out various areas of interest, peppering your tour with amusing anecdotes and insider information.

“And this,” you say, gesturing dramatically to a seemingly ordinary hallway, “is where Lando once tried to skateboard down the stairs. Spoiler alert: it didn’t end well.”

Oscar chuckles, finding himself more at ease. “I can’t imagine that went over well with management.”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Oh, Dad was furious. But between you and me, I think he was more upset that Lando didn’t invite him to join in.”

As you continue the tour, Oscar finds himself opening up more. “So, how long have you been involved with McLaren?” He asks.

You grin, twirling around to face him as you walk backward. “Oh, pretty much since Dad got hired to run it back in 2016. But I’ve been working here officially for about two years now, in PR and social media.”

Oscar nods, impressed. “That must be exciting, being so close to the action.”

“It has its moments,” you agree. “But enough about me. Tell me, Oscar Piastri, what makes you tick? What drives you to risk life and limb hurtling around tracks at breakneck speeds?”

Oscar pauses, considering his words carefully. “I guess ... it’s the thrill of pushing myself to the limit. The constant challenge of improving, of finding that extra tenth of a second. And the teamwork aspect, knowing that every person plays a crucial role in our success.”

You smile softly, a hint of admiration in your eyes. “That’s beautiful, Oscar. I can see why Dad was so keen on signing you.”

As you reach the simulator room, Oscar’s eyes light up with excitement. You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Want to give it a go?” You ask, gesturing towards the state-of-the-art equipment.

Oscar nods eagerly. “Can I? I mean, I don’t want to overstep ...”

You wave off his concerns. “Please, you’re part of the team now. Besides, I want to see what you can do.”

As Oscar settles into the simulator, you lean against the doorframe, watching him with interest. He takes a deep breath, centering himself before starting the virtual lap.

You observe silently, impressed by his focus and skill. As he completes the lap, you let out a low whistle. “Not bad, Piastri. Not bad at all.”

Oscar grins, a hint of pride in his expression. “Thanks. It feels good to get a feel for the car, even if it’s just a simulation.”

You step closer, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Want to make it interesting? I bet I can beat your time.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, a hint of competitiveness creeping into his voice. “Oh really? You’re on.”

For the next hour, you and Oscar take turns in the simulator, trading friendly jabs and encouragement. To Oscar’s surprise, you prove to be a formidable opponent, matching him lap for lap.

As you finish your final run, you jump up with a whoop of victory. “Ha! Beat you by two-tenths!”

Oscar shakes his head, laughing. “I can’t believe it. Where did you learn to drive like that?”

You shrug, a hint of vulnerability showing through your confident exterior. “Growing up around racing, I guess. But I never had the nerve to pursue it professionally. Too much pressure.”

Oscar nods understandingly. “I can’t blame you. It’s not an easy path.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only by the hum of the equipment. Oscar finds himself studying your face, noticing the way your eyes crinkle when you smile and how animated you become when talking about something you love.

You catch him staring and smirk. “See something you like, Piastri?”

Oscar blushes furiously, stammering, “I, uh ... I was just ... you’re really ...”

You laugh, but there’s a softness to it. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Oscar takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “Listen, Y/N ... I know we just met, but I was wondering if maybe ... I mean, if you’re not busy ... would you like to ...”

Before he can finish, an alarm on your phone goes off. You check it and grimace. “Shoot, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. Rain check on whatever you were about to say?”

Oscar nods, trying to hide his disappointment. “Yeah, of course. No problem.”

You start to leave but pause at the doorway. Turning back, you say, “Hey, Oscar? For what it’s worth, I hope you were about to ask me out. Because I’d say yes.”

With a wink and a wave, you’re gone, leaving Oscar standing in the simulator room, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling in his stomach. He takes a deep breath, a smile spreading across his face as he realizes that his journey with McLaren might be even more exciting than he initially thought.

***

The hot Qatar air shimmers around Oscar as he stands before the camera, sweat glistening on his brow. His race suit clings to his body, still damp from the grueling sprint race he’s just won. The interviewer leans in with her microphone.

“Oscar, what an incredible performance today! How does it feel to secure your first sprint victory in Formula 1?”

Oscar’s eyes shine with a mix of exhaustion and elation. “It’s ... it’s honestly surreal,” he says, his voice slightly breathless. “The team did an amazing job with the car, and everything just clicked out there. I can’t quite believe it yet.”

The interviewer nods encouragingly. “You showed remarkable pace throughout the race. Was there any point where you felt particularly challenged?”

Oscar opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say a word, a blur of motion catches his peripheral vision. Suddenly, you crash into him at full speed, nearly knocking both of you off balance.

“You did it! You actually did it!” You squeal, throwing your arms around Oscar’s neck and peppering his sweaty face with kisses.

Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, his cheeks flushing a deep red that has nothing to do with the desert heat. “Y/N! What are you-”

But you’re not listening. You’re too busy showering him with affection, right there in front of the rolling cameras and the stunned interviewer. “I’m so proud of you, you beautiful, talented man!” You exclaim between kisses.

The interviewer clears her throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I ... um, it seems we have an unexpected guest. Miss, could you perhaps-”

You turn to face the camera, your arm still draped around Oscar’s shoulders. “Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just here to celebrate with the star of the show.” You plant another kiss on Oscar’s cheek for emphasis.

Oscar, for his part, looks like he’s torn between embarrassment and delight. He awkwardly pats your back, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “I’m sorry about this,” he says to the interviewer. “This is Y/N, she’s ... well, she’s ...”

“I’m his girlfriend,” you announce proudly, beaming at the camera. “And the daughter of the CEO, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that this guy” — you ruffle Oscar’s hair — “just drove the race of his life!”

The interviewer, recovering from her initial shock, decides to roll with the unexpected turn of events. “Well, Y/N, since you’re here, what did you think of Oscar’s performance today?”

You launch into an enthusiastic analysis, gesticulating wildly. “It was absolutely brilliant! The way he managed those tires in the closing laps, fending off Verstappen ... I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!”

Oscar watches you with a mixture of amusement and affection. When you pause for breath, he gently interjects, “I think you might be a bit biased, love.”

You turn to him, eyes sparkling. “Biased? Me? Never! I’ll have you know I’m a highly objective observer of the sport.”

The interviewer, sensing an opportunity for a more personal angle, asks, “Oscar, how does it feel to have such passionate support from your girlfriend?”

Oscar’s expression softens as he looks at you. “It’s ... it’s incredible, honestly. Y/N’s been my biggest cheerleader since day one. Even on the tough days, she always believes in me.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, momentarily subdued by the sincerity in his voice. “That’s because I know how amazing you are, even when you don’t see it yourself.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly charmed by the display. “It’s wonderful to see such support. Y/N, did you have any doubts during the race?”

You straighten up, your energy returning full force. “Doubts? About Oscar? Never! Although,” you add with a mischievous grin, “I did consider commandeering a golf cart and driving onto the track myself when Verstappen started closing that gap in the final laps.”

Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m glad you restrained yourself. I don’t think that would’ve gone over well with the stewards.”

“Oh please,” you scoff playfully. “I would’ve told them I was delivering a vital message about tire strategy. They would’ve believed me.”

The interviewer laughs along with you. “I have to say, this is one of the most entertaining post-race interviews I’ve ever conducted. Oscar, how do you keep up with such a vibrant personality?”

Oscar grins, his earlier embarrassment fading. “Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out. Y/N keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You beam at him, then stage-whisper to the interviewer, “He loves it, really. I add much-needed excitement to his life.”

“As if driving a Formula 1 car at over 300 kilometers per hour isn’t exciting enough,” Oscar retorts good-naturedly.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Details, details. Now, are we done here? Because I have plans for celebrating this victory, and they involve a lot less talking and a lot more-”

Oscar quickly cuts you off, his cheeks reddening again. “And on that note, I think we should wrap this up. Thank you for the interview,” he says to the journalist, who’s trying hard to stifle her laughter.

As Oscar begins to lead you away, the interviewer calls out one last question. “Oscar, any final words for your fans watching at home?”

Oscar pauses, considering for a moment. “Just ... thank you for all the support. It means the world to me. And to the team, of course. We couldn’t do this without you all.”

You can’t resist adding your own message. “And remember, kids: if you work hard and believe in yourself, one day you too could have an incredibly attractive partner tackling you with kisses on live television!”

With that, you pull Oscar away from the cameras, both of you laughing as you disappear into the paddock.

Once you’re out of sight of the media, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “I can’t believe you did that,” he says, shaking his head.

You grin unrepentantly. “Oh come on, it was fun! And admit it, you loved it.”

Oscar tries to maintain a stern face, but his lips twitch upwards. “It was certainly ... unexpected.”

���Unexpected is my middle name,” you declare proudly.

“I thought your middle name was Trouble,” Oscar quips.

You gasp in mock offense. “Oscar Piastri, are you sassing me? I’ll have you know that Trouble is my first name. Y/N is just a cover.”

Oscar laughs, pulling you close despite the sweat still clinging to his race suit. “Well, Trouble, what do you say we get out of here and start that celebration you were talking about?”

Your eyes light up. “Now you’re talking! But first ...” You lean in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I believe I was interrupted earlier when I was showering the race winner with well-deserved affection.”

Oscar’s breath catches as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that’s far more heated than the ones shared on camera. When you finally pull apart, you’re both a little breathless.

“Wow,” Oscar murmurs. “If that’s how you react to a sprint win, I can’t wait to see what happens when I win a Grand Prix.”

You wink at him. “Keep driving like that, and you’ll find out soon enough. Now come on, hero. Let’s go find somewhere more private before my dad shows up and ruins all our fun.”

As if on cue, Zak’s voice echoes down the paddock. “Oscar! There you are! Hell of a drive out there, kid!”

You groan dramatically. “Speak of the devil. Quick, hide me in your helmet!”

Oscar chuckles, keeping an arm around your waist as Zak approaches. “I don’t think you’d fit, babe. Besides, I’m pretty sure he already knows you’re here. The whole world probably knows after that interview.”

You shrug, unabashed. “What can I say? When I’m proud of my man, I want everyone to know it.”

Zak reaches you, clapping Oscar on the shoulder. “That was some fantastic racing out there, Oscar. You should be proud.”

Oscar nods, a shy smile on his face. “Thank you. The car felt great, and the team’s strategy was spot on.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Always so modest. Dad, tell him how amazing he was!”

Zak laughs. “I think you’ve done enough of that for all of us, sweetheart. I saw that interview, by the way. Quite a show you two put on.”

You bat your eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was merely congratulating our star driver on his well-deserved victory.”

“Uh-huh,” Zak says, clearly not buying it. “Well, try to keep the congratulations a bit more PG in the future, alright? We do have sponsors to think about.”

Oscar looks mortified, but you just grin. “No promises. But I’ll try to restrain myself to just one tackle per race weekend.”

Zak shakes his head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness on his face. “What am I going to do with you two? Oscar, I hope you know what you’ve signed up for with this one.”

Oscar glances at you, his expression softening. “I think I have a pretty good idea. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You feel your heart swell at his words. “Aww, babe. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. Well, second sweetest. The sweetest was when you told me my driving in the simulator was ‘not bad.’”

Oscar groans. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope!” you say cheerfully. “I plan to remind you of it at least once a week for the rest of our lives.”

Zak watches your banter with amusement. “Alright, you two. Oscar, the team wants to debrief before you head out. Y/N, try not to cause any international incidents while I’m gone, okay?”

You salute dramatically. “Yes, sir, Team Principal, sir! I shall endeavor to be on my very best behavior.”

As Zak walks away, shaking his head and muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “God help us all,” you turn back to Oscar.

“So, hotshot,” you say, running a finger down his chest. “How long do you think this debrief will take? Because I have some very important plans that involve you, me, and a bottle of champagne I may or may not have ‘borrowed’ from the hospitality area.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Borrowed, huh? You know, as a representative of the team, I should probably discourage such behavior.”

You lean in close, your lips barely brushing his ear. “And as my boyfriend, what do you think?”

Oscar’s arms tighten around you. “I think,” he murmurs, “that I’m the luckiest guy in the world. And that I’ll try to make this the quickest debrief in F1 history.”

You pull back with a triumphant grin. “That’s what I like to hear. Now go, be brilliant, and hurry back to me. I’ll be waiting.”

As Oscar jogs off towards the team garage, you watch him go with a soft smile. Your eyes linger on the PIASTRI emblazoned across his back, and you feel a surge of pride and affection.

“That’s my guy,” you murmur to yourself. “My brilliant, amazing, race-winning guy.”

And as you head off to prepare for your celebration, you can’t help but think that while Oscar might have won the sprint race today, you’re the one who truly hit the jackpot.

***

The Hungaroring erupts in cheers as Oscar crosses the finish line, securing his maiden Grand Prix victory. The McLaren garage explodes with jubilation, team members hugging each other and pumping their fists in the air.

As Oscar completes his cool-down lap, his voice crackles over the team radio, breathless with excitement. “We did it! We actually did it! Thank you, thank you to everyone. I can’t believe it!”

His race engineer responds, emotion evident in his voice. “Fantastic job, Oscar. You drove brilliantly. Enjoy this moment, mate. You’ve earned it.”

Meanwhile, in the paddock, you’re practically vibrating with excitement. You’ve been pacing back and forth, unable to contain your energy as you watched the final laps unfold on the screens. As soon as Oscar crosses the line, you sprint towards parc fermé, determined to be there when he gets out of the car.

You weave through the crowd, your McLaren bomber jacket with Oscar’s number emblazoned across the back drawing curious glances. As you reach the barriers, you see Oscar’s car pull up, the Australian already unclipping his helmet.

“Oscar!” You shout, waving frantically. “Over here!”

Oscar’s eyes scan the crowd, lighting up when he spots you. He clambers out of the car, his legs a bit shaky from the adrenaline and physical exertion. As he makes his way towards you, his gaze locks onto the jacket you’re wearing, and his steps falter.

You notice his reaction and grin mischievously, doing a little twirl to show off the jacket. “Like what you see, champ?”

Oscar’s eyes are wide, his mouth slightly agape. “That’s ... wow. Is that my number?”

You nod, beaming. “Sure is. Thought I’d support my favorite driver in style. Although,” you add with a wink, “I have to say, it will look much better on the ground next to your bed.”

Oscar’s face flushes red, and he glances around nervously. “Y/N! We’re in public!”

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his sweat-damp hair. “Oh, relax. Everyone’s too busy celebrating your win to pay attention to us. Speaking of which ...” You grab the front of his race suit and pull him close, planting a passionate kiss on his lips.

When you finally break apart, Oscar looks dazed but happy. “I could get used to that kind of celebration,” he murmurs.

“Well, keep winning races like that, and you’ll have plenty more where that came from,” you tease. “Now go, do your podium thing. I’ll be waiting to continue this ... discussion ... later.”

As Oscar heads off for the podium ceremony, you turn to make your way back to the paddock. That’s when you spot Lando chatting with some engineers. Your eyes narrow as you remember how a McLaren strategy mistake had allowed Lando to undercut Oscar, nearly costing him the win. Even though it wasn’t really Lando’s fault, you can’t help feeling annoyed at him.

You’re about to march over and give Lando a piece of your mind when you spot something that makes you pause — Fernando Alonso’s unattended scooter, parked just a few feet away. A mischievous grin spreads across your face as an idea forms.

Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, you casually stroll over to the scooter and hop on. You rev the engine, drawing Lando’s attention.

“Hey, Y/N!” Lando calls out, waving. “Congrats on Oscar’s win! Some race, huh?”

You smile sweetly, maneuvering the scooter towards him. “Oh, it sure was, Lando. Especially that bit where you refused to give the lead back to Oscar until the last minute. That was ... interesting.”

Lando’s smile falters slightly. “Come on. You know it wasn’t my fault. The team made the strategy call.”

“Oh, I know,” you say, inching the scooter closer. “I just thought I’d give you a little reminder about team spirit and timeliness.”

Before Lando can react, you accelerate the scooter, aiming straight for his foot. There’s a yelp of pain as the wheel rolls over Lando’s toes, followed by a string of colorful expletives.

“Oops!” You exclaim with faux innocence. “So sorry, Lando. These things are just so hard to control, you know?”

Lando hops on one foot, glaring at you. “What the hell? That bloody hurt!”

You shrug, still perched on the scooter. “Funny, that’s probably how Oscar felt when you wouldn’t let him by. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

As Lando opens his mouth to retort, a stern voice cuts through the air. “Y/N Brown! What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

You wince, recognizing your father’s voice. Zak strides towards you, his expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“Hi, Dad,” you say sheepishly. “I was just ... congratulating Lando on his race?”

Zak pinches the bridge of his nose. “By running over his foot with Alonso’s scooter? Jesus, Y/N. I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

You hop off the scooter, trying your best to look contrite. “In my defense, it was a very gentle running over. Barely a love tap, really.”

Lando snorts, still rubbing his foot. “Love tap my arse. I think you broke my toe!”

Zak sighs heavily. “Lando, go get that checked out by the medics. Y/N, you’re coming with me. We need to have a serious talk about appropriate behavior in the paddock.”

As your father leads you away, you can’t help but call back over your shoulder, “Hey Lando! Next time, maybe think about giving the position back sooner, yeah?”

Zak groans. “Y/N, please. You know Lando was put in a tough spot. You’re not helping your case here.”

You follow your father to a quiet corner of the McLaren garage, trying to suppress your grin. Despite the impending lecture, you can’t bring yourself to regret your actions. Nobody messes with your Oscar and gets away with it.

Zak turns to face you, his expression serious. “Y/N, I know you’re excited about Oscar’s win, and believe me, I am too. But you can’t go around assaulting our drivers, even if it’s just with a scooter.”

You nod, attempting to look suitably chastised. “I know. I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

Zak raises an eyebrow. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?”

Before you can respond, there’s a commotion at the garage entrance. Oscar bursts in, his face flushed with excitement.

“Y/N!” He calls out, spotting you. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You turn to him, your face lighting up. “Oscar! Congrats, babe! I know I already said it, but you were amazing out there!”

Oscar sweeps you up in a hug, spinning you around. As he sets you down, his eyes once again lock onto your jacket. “God, you look incredible in that,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You smirk, running a hand down his chest. “Oh yeah? Maybe I should wear it more often then.”

Zak clears his throat loudly, reminding you both of his presence. “While I’m thrilled about the win, could you two maybe tone down the PDA a notch? We are still in a professional environment.”

Oscar steps back, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I got a bit carried away.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, come on, Dad. Let the man celebrate! It’s his first win, after all.”

Zak sighs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Fine, fine. But try to keep it family-friendly, alright? And Y/N, we’re not done talking about the scooter incident.”

Oscar looks between you and your father, confusion evident on his face. “Scooter incident?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little misunderstanding with Lando. Nothing to worry about.”

Oscar’s brow furrows. “What kind of misunderstanding involves a scooter?”

Before you can answer, Lando limps into the garage, his foot wrapped in a bandage. “The kind where your girlfriend tries to maim me, apparently,” he grumbles.

Oscar’s eyes widen. “Y/N, you didn’t ...”

You shrug, trying to look innocent. “It was an accident! Besides, he had it coming after that stunt he pulled during the race.”

Oscar runs a hand through his hair, looking exasperated but also slightly amused. “Y/N, you can’t just go around running people over because you’re unhappy with their racing.”

“Watch me,” you mutter under your breath.

Zak throws his hands up in defeat. “I give up. Oscar, congratulations again on the win. Y/N, try not to cause any more chaos for at least the next hour, okay? I need to go do damage control with the press.”

As your father walks away, Oscar turns to you, his expression a mix of fondness and exasperation. “What am I going to do with you?”

You grin, stepping closer to him. “I have a few ideas. Most of them involve you, me, and licking champagne off each other’s skin.”

Oscar’s breath hitches, his eyes darkening. “Y/N,” he warns, but there’s no real heat in his voice.

You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “What do you say we get out of here, champ? I think it’s time for your real celebration.”

Oscar doesn’t need to be told twice. He grabs your hand, leading you towards the exit. As you pass Lando, you call out, “No hard feelings, right, Lando? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before playing dirty on track.”

Lando rolls his eyes but can’t help cracking a smile. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep her on a leash, will you, Oscar?”

Oscar chuckles. “I don’t think anyone could keep Y/N on a leash if they tried.”

As you leave the garage, the sounds of celebration still echoing through the paddock, you can’t help but feel on top of the world. Oscar’s first win, your successful (if slightly unorthodox) defense of his honor, and the promise of a private celebration to come — it’s been a perfect day.

You squeeze Oscar’s hand, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So, hero, ready to show me just how much you like this jacket?”

Oscar grins, pulling you closer. “More than ready. But maybe we should wait until we’re somewhere more private. I don’t fancy giving the entire paddock a show.”

You laugh, the sound bright and carefree. “Spoilsport. But fine, I suppose I can be patient. For now.”

As you walk hand in hand towards the team motorhome, you can’t help but think that while Oscar may have won the race today, you’re both winners in the game of love. And that’s the best victory of all.

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: after luke lets you slip away the first time, he's destined to not let you slip away again.

warnings: cute fluff, awkward dialogue

word count: 2.77k

You were the face of Michigan Athletics.

Michigan wasn’t exactly known for its soccer program, but when you committed there, all eyes were on them. You were set to be their crown jewel athlete, bringing them their first national championship.

And in Luke’s opinion, they couldn’t have picked a better face.

You’d met at a pre-season party the soccer team threw during Luke’s freshman year. As the women's soccer team captain, you took on the hosting duties. Luke spotted you across the room almost immediately. You stood out in the crowd, not just because you were the host, but because you had an undeniable presence. Effortlessly charismatic, you moved through the room with ease, greeting everyone with a warm smile. Every new person you spoke to laughed easily at what you said, drawn in by your charm.

Luke stood by the kitchen counter, nursing his drink, his eyes following your every move. He noticed how you moved from group to group, person to person, finding conversation with every one of them. Luke didn’t even know if you personally knew all of them, but it seemed like you were best friends with everyone.

"Hey, Luke! Are you having a good time?" Brendan, one of the sophomore players, clapped him on the back, pulling him out of his trance.

Luke smiled, though his eyes drifted back to you. "Yeah, man. Great party."

Brendan followed his gaze and grinned knowingly. “Ah, I see you spotted y/n,” he said, sighing. “Not gonna happen, buddy.”

Luke furrowed his brows, turning to look at Brendan. “What? Why not?”

Brendan chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s… she’s like the sun. You know, everyone’s drawn to her, but no one gets close. She’s got a lot on her plate—captain of the team, top of her class, always involved in something.”

Luke glanced back at you, captivated by the way you laughed with the group you were with, your laughter ringing above the crowd's conversation. “She seems really nice,” he said, more to himself than to Brendan.

“Oh, she is,” Brendan agreed. “Nicest person you'll ever meet. But no chance in hell is she going for a freshman.”

Luke nodded, still not taking his eyes off you. Brendan patted him on the shoulder again. “Don’t get too hung up on her, bud. Enjoy the party. Plenty of other people to meet.” With that, he wandered off to join a group of his friends.

Maybe Brendan was right. Maybe you don’t go for freshman. But there was something about you that made Luke want to try anyway. He watched as you finally took a break from mingling and headed towards the kitchen. His heart pounded in his chest as you approached, and he decided to take a chance.

“Hey,” he said, mustering up his most confident smile as you reached the counter. “I’m Luke. Great party, by the way.”

You looked up, meeting his eyes with a warm smile that made his heart race even more. “Hey, Luke, I’m y/n. Thanks, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” you said, your voice sweet. “I don’t recognize you… you must be a freshman.”

Luke chuckled slightly, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I am. I’m on the men's hockey team, actually.”

"So, how are you finding Michigan so far? Adjusting okay?"

Luke smiled, grateful for the shift in focus. "It’s been great so far. A bit overwhelming, but in a good way. The guys on the team have been really welcoming."

"That’s good to hear," you said, genuinely pleased. "The first year can be a lot, but it sounds like you’re handling it well."

A sudden chorus of shouts from just outside the kitchen ripped the both of you out of the conversation. You looked over your shoulder, seeing your friends waving you over, before returning your gaze to Luke. “Looks like I’m needed. But it was really nice talking to you, Luke. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.” You shot him a genuine smile before slipping out of the kitchen and into the crowd.

You saw each other a little bit during Luke’s two years there, short little conversations at parties or brief interactions in the athletic facilities at Michigan. But Luke never made his move. He’d think about it every time you interacted, but could never muster up the courage to say ‘Hey, y/n, wanna go out sometime?’. Then before he knew it, New Jersey had signed him, and he’d lost his chance.

That was until you had posted a photo, announcing that you had signed a contract with Gotham FC, the women's soccer team based out of New York and New Jersey. It felt like fate to Luke that the two of you wound up in the same city again. His heart raced as he stared at the photo, and Luke would be damned if he was going to let you slip away again.

A couple of games into the season, the team was informed that you, Gotham FC’s newest signing, would be doing the ceremonial puck drop. It felt as if the world was dropping a fated encounter right in Luke’s lap. Luke had let it slip to the Devil's PR team that he knew you and they pulled some strings to set up him being involved in the puck drop.

When he watched you step onto the ice adorning a Devil's jersey, Luke felt his breath catch in his throat. His crush came soaring back as if no time had passed.

He watched as you graced towards center ice, waving towards the cheering fans. Your lips parted widely, displaying the same genuine and bright smile that he remembered. The moment you reached the end of the red carpet, your eyes met him, and a flicker of recognition passed between you. Luke managed to smile, though his heart was pounding as if he was about to play in the biggest game of his life.

“Hey, y/n,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nerves that ran through his veins. “Welcome to Jersey.”

You smiled back, eyes twinkling. “Thanks, Luke. It’s good to see a familiar face.”

After the puck dropped, Luke lingered on the ice, watching as you were ushered off by Devil's staff and taken behind the bench. He couldn’t shake the interaction you’d had; the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, the way your voice sounded when you said his name. It was as if all the feelings he'd buried deep down were rushing back, more intense than ever before.

The feeling didn’t shake even as the game started. Every time he finished a shift, he couldn’t help but glance into the stands, hoping to catch a glimpse of your face. He wondered what you were thinking, if you even remembered those small moments you’d shared back in Michigan, or if you felt the same connection that he did now.

The Devils ended up securing a win, but even as his teammates celebrated around him, Luke found his mind elsewhere. As he finished his post-game routine, towelling off the sweat and changing into his street clothes, Luke spotted the team’s media coordinator stick her head into the room before walking over to him. “Hey Luke, you have a visitor,” she said, a knowing smile tugging on her lips.

Luke’s heart skipped a beat, hoping it was you. He quickly ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to calm his nerves. When he stepped out into the hallway, there you were, leaning against the wall with that same bright smile.

“Hey,” you greeted, pushing off the wall and walking toward him.

“Hey,” Luke responded, a little breathless. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes. “Figured I’d stop by and congratulate you on the win.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” Luke replied.

“I think it’s only fair that you come to a Gotham game now that I’ve been to a Devils game.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me with a good time.”

As you chatted, his teammates began to trickle out of the locker room, noticing the unfamiliar face. Jack was the first to approach, Dawson and Jesper close behind, throwing a curious glance between the two of you.

“Luke, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Jack teased, already smirking.

Luke rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Guys, this is y/n. She’s with Gotham FC now. We knew each other back at Michigan.”

Introductions were made, and you were instantly welcomed into the group, the guys bombarding you with questions about soccer and your new team. You handled it with ease, laughing and chatting as if you had known them for years. You had the same effect on them as the rest of the people you met.

Luke tried to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting to how much he wanted to talk to you alone. The banter with his teammates was fun, but he couldn’t help feeling like this was his chance to finally make a move — something he’d regretted not doing back in Michigan.

As the group talked, Luke started to think about how he could get the guys to back off for a bit. Jack was already trying to dig into their history, jokingly asking, “So, Luke, did you ever tell her how you used to—”

“Hey, Jack,” Luke interrupted, shooting his brother a look that clearly said don’t even think about it. “How about you head on home? I’ll catch up with you guys later, alright?”

Jesper raised a brow, catching on to what Luke was getting at. “Yeah, yeah, we’re off. We’ll see you later. It was nice meeting you, y/n.”

Jack attempted to argue, wanting to bug his little brother a little more, but was ushered away by Jesper and Dawson. Once they were out of earshot, Luke turned back to you, his nerves kicking up a notch. Luke shifted awkwardly on his feet, running a hand through his still-damp hair as he tried to steady his nerves. The hallway felt quieter now, the absence of his teammates making the moment between you two more intimate, more charged. He could feel the weight of the opportunity, the chance to say something he’d been holding back for years.

“I uh… I was wondering if you’d uh… want to maybe get a drink with me or something?” Luke stammered out.

A small grin tugged on your lips, Luke’s cheeks heating up and turning a light pink hue. “I’d love to.” you nodded. “But I hope you know a place, I’m still getting used to the area.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know a place,” Luke said.

Luke's mind was racing as you both left the arena together. The cool night air was a welcome relief against the lingering adrenaline from the game. He walked beside you, his hands stuffed into his pockets, trying to play it cool despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. It had been years since he'd last felt this way — the same fluttering nerves and excitement that he used to push aside back at Michigan.

You both arrived at a cozy bar just a few blocks from the arena, a place Luke had frequented with his teammates. The atmosphere was relaxed, the dim lighting and soft chatter creating an intimate vibe that made it easier for Luke to settle his nerves.

As you both slid into a booth, Luke tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t come off as too eager. He knew this was his chance to finally make up for the lost opportunities in Michigan, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“Nice spot,” you commented, glancing around with an approving nod. “It reminds me of that place in Michigan, Paulies?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke agreed, trying to ignore the way his heart sped up every time you looked at him. “Figured it’d be a nice spot to catch up, you know?”

“I’m glad you asked me out tonight,” you said, your eyes meeting his in a way that made his heart skip a beat. “I always wondered if we’d get another chance to hang out.”

The comment caught Luke off guard, and he blinked in surprise. “Really? You wondered that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a soft laugh. “I mean, we didn’t really get to know each other that well at Michigan, but there was always this… I don’t know, this connection, I guess. I always thought we’d hang out more, but then things got busy… y’know you with hockey, me with soccer… and well, you know how it goes.”

Luke felt a warmth spread through his chest, your words giving him the confidence he needed. “I thought the same thing,” he confessed, his voice a little steadier now. “I always wanted to ask you out back then, but I just… never did. I don’t know, I guess I was scared or something.”

You tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Scared? Of what?”

“I mean… c’mon y/n…” Luke chuckled but stopped when he met your sincere eyes. “You were always out of my league. I mean you were the captain of the soccer team, you were always on the Dean’s list, you are liked by everyone… I mean you met my teammates for five minutes and they were enthralled by you. Not to mention you’re like drop-dead gorgeous, I just…”

Luke stopped when he realized he was rambling, stopping also to catch his breath. You blinked, genuinely surprised by his admission. “Out of your league?” you echoed, leaning forward slightly. “Luke, what are you talking about?”

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but the vulnerability in his eyes was undeniable. He could hardly believe he was admitting this to you after all this time. A small laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“Luke,” you started, your voice soft but firm, “You’re tall, handsome, and you were destined to be a hockey player in the NHL. You’re one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. You were always kind, even in those brief moments we had back in Michigan. And when I moved here, I remembered you played her and I was hoping I’d run into you again because… well, I kind of had a crush on you too.”

Luke felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. He blinked, processing what you just said. “You… you did?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded again, your smile growing a little wider. “Yeah, I did. I mean, how could I not? You were always so genuine and down-to-earth, even when everyone else was trying to act like they were too cool. But I never thought you saw me like that.”

Luke couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The weight of all the missed opportunities and the years of wondering seemed to lift in that moment. “I guess we were both kind of clueless, huh?” he said with a chuckle.

“Seems like it,” you agreed, laughing softly.

The laughter between you both faded into a comfortable silence as you locked eyes, the reality of your shared feelings settling in.

“Well,” Luke said, his voice a little more confident now, “I’m really glad we’re here now. And, y/n, I don’t want to let this chance slip by again. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and I’d really like to see where this could go.”

Your smile grew, your eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and warmth. “I’d like that too, Luke,” you replied, your voice sincere.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of easy conversation and shared laughter. As you both walked out of the bar, the city lights casting a soft glow on the streets, Luke couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. This was what he had wanted for so long, and now that it was finally happening, it felt even better than he’d imagined.

When you reached the corner where you’d have to part ways, Luke turned to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, can I take you out again? Maybe a proper date this time?” he asked, his tone light but hopeful.

You grinned, nodding. “I’d love that, Luke. And maybe next time, you can show me around more of the city.”

“It’s a date,” he said, his smile widening.

Luke bade you goodbye, turning on his heels and beginning down the street.

“Hey, Luke!” you called after him. Luke turned, locking eyes with yours that sparkled beneath the street lights. “Please don’t let me slip away again.”

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Ten

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Ten: Fortune-Telling Transfer

Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) meet a new transfer.

            “We’ve got another transfer student! And it’s a girl!”

            (Y/N) looked around as people began to whisper excitedly at the prospect of a new student.

            “I wonder what she’ll be like,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “If we’re getting a new character, we should get rid of one of the old ones,” said Saiki, considering Toritsuka, Kuboyasu, and Saiko. “I vote Toritsuka.” (Y/N) nodded.

            “Please be seated,” said their teacher, entering the room. “I’m going to introduce our new transfer student.”

            All the boys waited expectantly, hopeful for another pretty girl.

            “Come in,” said their teacher.

            Pull it together, thought Saiki.

            “What’s up?” A girl with green hair, dramatic makeup, and barrettes stepped into the room.

            Gyaru, thought the entire room. The boys looked disappointed.

            Pretty, thought (Y/N). Not prettier than Saiki, but pretty.

            “I’m Mikoto Aiura,” said Mikoto, writing on the board. “Just call me Miko. My hobbies are fortune-telling and decorating nails.”

            “Fortune-telling? I’m into that, too,” said Yumehara, smiling.

            “Really?” Miko smiled widely. “Fortune-telling is awesome, right? What’s your name?”

            “I’m Chiyo Yumehara,” said Yumehara. “I can show you this fortune-teller who’s really good.”

            “Thanks, but you’ve got it wrong, Chiyopipi.” Miko reached into her bag and pulled out a glittery crystal ball. “I’m a fortune-teller myself.”

            “Wow,” said (Y/N), tilting their head. If she was telling the truth, that was the third psychic in the school.

            “What?”

            “Amazing!” exclaimed various people.

            In an instant, Miko became a topic of interest, and as soon as people had the chance, they crowded around her and her crystal ball to see if she was the real deal.

            “She’s really popular,” said Nendou. “Maybe I’ll have her read my fortune, too.”

            “Well, I have zero interest in this,” said Kaidou.

            “Your past actions say otherwise,” said Saiki.

            “She seems cool,” said (Y/N), interested.

            “Better to not get involved,” said Saiki. “The future is a…weird thing.”

            “I don’t care about that,” said (Y/N) cheerfully. “She just seems cool. Friendly, nice, we could use a few more people like that.”

            They’re going to make a new friend, thought Saiki. And he couldn’t stop it—not that he would. (Y/N) was allowed to do whatever they wanted in his book.

            “Chiyopipi, do you want me to check your future?” offered Miko.

            “Well…” Yumehara blushed. “What about my career?”

            “Oh, come on.” Miko laughed. “You want to know about boys, right?”

            “How did you…?” Yumehara eyes widened.

            “Go on, Chiyo, have fun,” said (Y/N) teasingly.

            “Okay,” said Yumehara nervously.

            “Let’s give this a shot!” said Miko, pulling out ink, an eraser, and a bucket of water.

            “A bucket and ink? And an eraser?” said Yumehara. “What are you going to-?”

            Miko poured some ink into the water and spun the bucket around wildly. Then, she rubbed off bits of the eraser and let them float in the water. Everyone deadpanned, and then Miko grinned and looked up.

            “Your compatibility is two percent,” said Miko.

            Yumehara’s jaw dropped open in shock and disappointment. “How could you tell that?”

            “You should give up your current crush,” said Miko, straightforward.

            “What? I don’t believe you for a second!” declared Yumehara.

            “Chiyopipi, you’ve had bad luck with boys, haven’t you?” said Miko. “Weren’t the guys you dated before trash? Broke guys or just general losers?”

            Yumehara began to sweat at the blatant truth. “I don’t believe you!” She cried and ran out of the room.

            “That was impressive,” remarked (Y/N). They whispered to Saiki, “Is she for real?” 

            “Yes,” said Saiki. “She’s no fraud. She’s a real psychic.” And that meant she could figure him out.

            “Cool,” said (Y/N).

            Saiki sighed.

            “Who’s next?” chirped Miko.

            “Do you have a minute? I have a request.” Toritsuka stepped into the classroom. He had heard about the pretty psychic girl from the ghosts around him (and he had focused on the “pretty” part). “I want to know my compatibility with you.” He held up a rose. “I’m Toritsuka from the next class.”

            “A compatibility of zero percent,” said Miko, staring him down with a deadpan look. “Who are you, anyway?”

            “Yes. My apologies.” Toritsuka deflated.

            “He should retire from the show,” said Saiki.

            “Excuse me! I have some thing to ask.” Mera stepped up to Miko.

            “What is it now?” said Miko.

            “Can you find my missing father?” asked Mera.

            “Heavy,” said Saiki.

            “Poor Mera,” said (Y/N).

            “What’s your name?” said Miko.

            “I’m Chisato Mera,” said Mera.

            “Okay, Chisapoyo,” said Miko. “I’ll find your dad.” She entwined her arms, closed her eyes, and focused. Then, she took a pencil, shaved the lead, patted it between her hands, and hit it against Toritsuka’s shirt. While he pouted, she examined the shape of the lead. “He’s in Puerto Rico. I’m off my game today. That’s all I got.”

            “That’s more than enough! I’ll check it out!” said Mera excitedly, waving and running out of the room.

            “Wow, that’s impressive!” said (Y/N). “And she helps people like you.”

            “I don’t—” Saiki sighed as (Y/N) raised a brow. He gave up.

            “What were those things you did? With the lead and the bucket?” asked a student.

            “Oh, that?” Miko shrugged. “I’m just winging it. I’m just doing things that seem like they would inspire me. All I really need is my crystal ball, but it’s hard to see through with all the accessories.”

            I have to be careful not to let her do a ritual with me, thought Saiki. And if she looks at (Y/N) at all, she may see we’re dating and expose it before we’re ready.

            “But I’m off my game today,” sighed Miko, slouching into her seat.

            “Are you sick?” asked a girl.

            “I’m pretty good at seeing people’s auras, but…”

            “Auras?” said a girl.

            “Yes, like their spiritual energy,” said Miko. “With a single glance, I can see someone’s fate or potential. But I can’t see them very well today.”

            Saiki’s jaw dropped open. (Y/N) glanced at him.

            “Kusuo?” said (Y/N).

            “She has that power?” he said. “I can’t let her look at me.”

            “Why did you transfer here, anyway?” asked a student.

            “You want to know?” Miko turned red.

            “Yes.”

            Miko laughed and twirled her hair round her finger. “I read my own fortune, and, apparently, they’re here.” She blushed happily.

            “Who?” asked another student.

            “Isn’t it obvious?” Miko grinned. “The people I’m meant to love!”

            Instantly, all the boy blushed excitedly, and the girls gasped in excitement.

            “Wow, you can find that out, too?!”

            “Amazing!”

            “Yeah, I was in great form that day.” Miko twirled her hair. “My fortune told me I was going to find people who were going to make me happier in life.”

            “Are they in our class?” said the girls.

            “Cool,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “She’s here for love.”

            “None of my business. I’m staying away,” said Saiki.

            “I don’t know much about them, but I know one has a sweet tooth and the other has pink hair and crazy abilities. Their initials are (Your Initials) and S.K,” said Miko.

            (Y/N) and Saiki froze. What?

            “Who could they be?”

            “I can figure it out through their auras,” said Miko proudly.

            “I have to do something,” said Saiki.

            “Not what I thought she’d say,” said (Y/N). “And I think she’s pretty, but she’s not my type.”

            “That’s your issue?”

            (Y/N) chuckled and shrugged.

            “I’m skipping school tomorrow,” said Saiki decisively.

            “So she can’t see your aura?” said (Y/N). Saiki nodded. “Good idea. Should I skip?”

            Saiki shrugged. “It’s your decision.”

            “We can’t avoid her forever, so I’ll go,” said (Y/N), smiling. “You shouldn’t worry so much. It’ll work itself out, I’m sure.”

            “You are way too optimistic.” It was endearing, though.

l

            Miko’s head hit the desk in exhaustion. She had tried all morning to find her soulmates, but she had found nothing so far. She had found an SK with the aura of a chihuahua and another with the aura of a rich old man, but neither were her type. And she had struggled to find people with (Your Initials). She sighed. This was growing pointless.

            “(L/N), where’s Saiki?” said Kuboyasu.

            “He wasn’t feeling well today,” said (Y/N), smiling. “Under the weather. I’m going to bring him his homework later.”

            Miko looked up. Oh yeah. Saiki Kusuo. The last SK name on my li— Her eyes widened. This aura! It’s so warm! A pink light was radiating from (Y/N), warm and comforting, drawing Miko in like the smell of fresh pastries. Sweetness radiated from them. Miko’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed her list of classmates. (L/N) (Y/N)! The initials! It has to be them!

            Instantly, she stood up to go over to them. A few blocks away, Saiki—using his clairvoyance—cursed the entire world and decided he had to go to school. If some girl was going to go and get convinced (Y/N) was her soulmate, Saiki was stepping in that. That was his partner.

            He teleported into the school hallway.

            “What happened?” exclaimed Miko, looking around herself.  “I can’t see auras again!”

            What? Saiki blinked.

            “But I haven’t confirmed anything yet! This sucks!” said Miko. “I can’t seem them at all!”

            Really? What’s with this timing? I was about to make my grand entrance, thought Saiki. His eyes widened. Wait. He teleported out and onto a nearby building.

            “What? It’s back,” said Miko, confused. “What the heck is going on?”

            So that’s what’s going on. Saiki smiled in satisfaction. I’ve figured it out. The solution is to do nothing. (Y/N) is right, it’s working itself out. She thinks she lost her ability to see auras, but that’s not really the case. My aura is too big. It has a radius of roughly two hundred meters, like my telepathy. My aura outshone everyone else’s, so she was unable to see them. So long as she can’t see me alone, from a distance, she can never— He teleported back into the school as Miko turned. Know it’s me.

            He stepped towards the classroom and looked in. (Y/N) sat at their desk, and Saiki smiled slightly. And she won’t try to flirt with (Y/N).

            “Kusuo,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I thought you were staying home today.”

            “I’m feeling better,” said Saiki. “Everything worked itself out.”

            “I told you,” said (Y/N). They paused. “So you don’t have another girl interested in you?” They grinned teasingly.

            Saiki sighed. “She saw your aura, so she thinks you’re her soulmate.”

            “Huh.” (Y/N) tilted their head. “I’m kind of flattered.” They laughed as Saiki scowled more than usual. “You get all the girls, so it’s my turn.”

            Saiki remained unamused until (Y/N) laughed. Then his gaze softened. Unfortunately, he knew Miko had a point—(Y/N) was sweet. It was unsurprising that she’d like them.

            “Don’t worry, Kusuo, I think she read her fortune wrong anyways,” said (Y/N). “People making her happier could mean anything—friendship, family, relationships.” They grinned. “I’m betting on friendship. Don’t worry, Kusuo, I’m not looking to date her.”

            Too bad for her. Saiki looked at (Y/N) fondly, lovingly. They’re mine.

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[nayedoll]

Baby came home

joost klein x fem!reader

rpf below, pls don’t read if you’re uncomfortable!!!

read part 2 here

summary: reader and joost used to be together but broke up. four years later they meet again, having realized their mistakes.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut (blowjob, unprotected p in v), angsty

word count: 6k

a/n: this is kiiiiind of based on the songs ‘baby came home’ and ‘baby came home 2/ valentines’ by the nbhd fyi if u want to listen to them!! also im sorry that im yapping sm in the first paragraphs i promise joost is gonna show up lol🥲. anyways enjoy!!!!!!

───────────────────────

You enter the bathroom, the deafening music from the club reducing to a muffled sound as the door behind you closes. Your hand immediately reaches for the sink and you look up to see your blurry reflection in the mirror. The dark red tint of your lipstick has faded by now and your eyes look tired under the bathroom lighting, lightly smudged with mascara.

You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut in order to get ahold of yourself. The floor underneath you is vibrating with the sound of the loud bass, mirroring the quick rhythm of your heartbeat as you open your eyes again, meeting your distressed gaze in the mirror. You feel lost, unable to recognize yourself under the layers of makeup as tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

Today wasn’t supposed to go like this. You expected it to be another long night of partying with your coworkers, the group of you sat in the fancy vip sofas as always, drinking champagne and gossiping. You never really liked them or their snobbish attitude, the only reason you always agreed to go out with them being your job — a stylist for one of New York’s biggest fashion magazines.

You had always wanted to be involved in fashion so naturally when you got the opportunity to work for such a prestigious magazine two years ago, you accepted every part of the job, the good and the bad. It was sort of an unspoken rule; if you wanted to go higher, you’d have to make compromises — and for you that compromise was to tolerate all the rich elites you worked with, pretend to be one of them.

You thought your plan had been working, especially with how your boss was treating you lately, even promising to give you the promotion you so badly wanted and deserved.

So naturally, when she announced another person as the art director today, you couldn’t help but protest, ask for an explanation from your boss who called you crazy in her usual patronizing tone. With the help of alcohol in your system, the complaints soon turned into a heated argument as you resigned, left the table and ended up… here.

Maybe I should have never left the Netherlands; this is the only thought going through your mind right now as you let out one last shaky breath and your tears gradually come to a stop, leaving a reddish blush on your cheeks as a confirmation that you have been crying. You slightly fix your makeup, clearing the smudged mascara under your eyes before leaving the bathroom.

The music gets progressively louder as you re-enter the large venue filled by people dancing.

You glance at the vip section one last time, easily spotting the people you unfortunately know so well, dressed in expensive designer clothes. They are chatting and laughing as if nothing has happened, the same fake smiles lingering on their faces. You scoff to yourself, all those years of working together and not one of them cares enough to check on you.

You don’t bother to stay any longer and make a turn for the exit door, as the music from the club gradually fades.

The familiar security guard opens the door for you and you smile subtly at him for what you hope will be the last time.

The air is cold and humid against your hot body, causing you to wince as you put on your lightweight jacket that doesn’t do much to warm you up.

You look around you, blinded by the vibrant lights reflecting off the windows of the tall buildings and restaurants. Despite how late it is, the city is still as busy as ever with numerous people walking by, going from club to club and the loud music from cars is booming at every corner.

You decide to rest on a wall a few meters away, seeing as your ride home was one of your coworkers but that scenario doesn’t seem very likely anymore.

You pull out a cigarette from your purse and your trembling fingers rush to light it, desperate to feel the addictive burn in your throat.

For the first time in a long while, you suddenly feel better, relieved as if a heavy weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It almost feels liberating to not work at that place anymore, knowing you don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not, that this may be your chance to escape the toxic environment you’ve been living in and find your old self back.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you instinctively whip your head to the direction you heard it come from, then pause. In front of you, is standing Joost.

Joost as in your ex boyfriend from the Netherlands.

You met him shortly after having moved to the country because of your dad’s job, both of you being just 17 without the experience of any previous partners and big feelings. It didn’t take long before you got into a relationship, the newfound passion of a first love quickly drawing you closer together and taking over your minds. It was the first time in your life that you had such strong feelings for someone, especially someone you had known for so little at that. You really thought you had found the perfect man, the one you would someday marry and start a life with, no matter the hardships.

But as time passed, the problems soon began to emerge in your relationship. The main issue lied with the fact that you both didn’t exactly know how to convey your feelings and emotions to one another; Joost opted to ignore them and move on, whereas you often came off as controlling and selfish in an attempt to show him just how much you cared.

You loved each other a lot — and you both knew that — but inevitably you broke up with him in the heat of an argument, the biggest one you’d had yet. In the following month, you barely talked and it was then that you made the impulsive decision to move back to New York, finding no reason in staying in Amsterdam anymore. You didn’t tell Joost but he found out eventually, leading to another big argument just one day before your flight and then another month of no contact.

At last, you did talk things through, him calling to apologize and try to make things right again as you cried over the phone because you knew it was too late for either of you to make up for all the problems.

It’s been 4 years since then in which you kept some sort of communication, mostly on your birthdays and on holidays or when he replied to your story sometimes and vice versa.

You stare up at him in shock. “Joost?” You blurt out, blinking repeatedly as if to make sure he is actually here.

He smiles, his dimples bringing back a bundle of memories and you get chills just at that.

“Hey,” He pulls you into a hug which you reluctantly return, careful to not burn him with your cigarette as you linger in his arms a moment longer, taking in the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with what seems to be cigarettes.

“How have you been?” You ask, eyeing him up and down.

He looks slightly different, having grown into his face through the years. His hair is still the same shade of blonde, though grown out as it sticks out under his hat and you notice the small trimmed mustache on his face. He’s just about the same height, maybe slightly taller as he towers over you even with your heels on.

“Good, everything’s good I guess,”

“Yeah? I heard your album did well last year,” Albino; It had popped up on your feed a few times but you hadn’t looked into it too much, in fear of undoing all your efforts to get over Joost.

“Are you stalking me?” His question coaxes a laugh out of you as you roll your eyes at him.

“Get over yourself,” You say playfully, “I saw Tantu post about it on Instagram,”

Joost grins and nods as a response. “How have you been?” He redirects your initial question to you.

You take a moment to respond as you awkwardly look away from him. If you were to be honest with him, you’d say you’re basically all alone, crying and second guessing yourself on the daily — also without a job from now on — but you find that it may be too direct of an answer for the situation.

Instead you say, “Not too bad either,” giving him a weak smile.

“Still in fashion?” He asks, his words unknowingly sting but you try your best to look okay.

“Mhm,” You nod, “I uh- I work for a fashion magazine,” Or maybe worked would be a better word, you think to yourself.

“That’s awesome,”

“I guess so,” You can’t help but let a sigh fall from your lips, hinting at the insincerity of your words. Joost senses it because he furrows his eyebrows at you as if to ask you what’s wrong but you don’t let him.

“Want a cigarette?” You hold out your pack of cigarettes that’s almost empty, in hopes of changing the subject. Joost gets the message and takes a cigarette from the package, deciding not to bother you with any more questions. Besides, it isn’t exactly his business after so many years of barely any contact.

You light the cigarette that hangs from his lips as your eyes meet over the small orange flame and you stay silent, watching as he takes a long drag.

“By the way,” You utter “Why are you in New York?” Maybe it’s a dumb question as obviously a trip would be the reason, but frankly you’re more curious about who he is here with.

Joost goes on to explain, “Me and my friends booked this trip a while ago,” He exhales a thick plume of smoke.

“I don’t see anyone here,” You look around, searching for the familiar faces of his friends.

“They’re sitting at that bar over there,” He nods to the small building that is just a few meters away, the one you have passed by countless times after leaving the club. “I just came out here to make a few calls,” He adds.

“To your girlfriend?” You can’t help but ask him, the drinks you had earlier playing a part in your bluntness. You’re not drunk but definitely intoxicated enough to not feel embarrassed, especially when you see how Joost’s face lights up at your question.

“Nee, I don’t have one,” He gives you a cheeky smile, “Why? Are you curious?”

You shake your head, looking down to the concrete ground, “No, just… asking,” Your voice is weak as you shy away from your words.

“Alright,” You hear him chuckle, it makes you smile too for some reason.

“But I’m sure you have a boyfriend,” He says causing you to look back at him in confusion, “He must be waiting for you inside that club,” He points to the same building you were in just a few minutes ago.

“Where did you get that from?” You laugh in between your words, making it clear you do not in fact have a boyfriend.

“I don’t know,” He shrugs his shoulders, smiling down at you. “You’re pretty, why wouldn’t you have a boyfriend?” You bite the inside of your mouth, fighting back a smile but Joost sees you, secretly enjoying the effect his words still have on you.

“Haven’t found the right one yet,” Both of you know that’s not true. You had found the right one, in fact he’s standing right next to you but you both just had to ruin everything.

Joost knows you don’t mean that, but still, the thought that you have moved on from him stings even though it’s normal all these years later. He has matured, you both have and he often thinks how things would turn out if you got back together again, right now.

His silence doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you put out your cigarette with the sole of your shoe and turn to fully face him.

“Anyways,” You sigh, “I was going to leave soon,”

“Oh,” Joost takes one last puff of smoke before also putting out the cigarette on the ground, then he looks at you again. “Ja, I should probably head back inside too,” He says but none of you make a move that indicates you’re leaving.

You don’t want to say goodbye and possibly never see him again, knowing that once he’s gone you’ll sink back into the misery of your life. He’s currently the only person you feel comfortable talking to and you don’t want to lose that feeling just yet.

You say, “Joost?” Your voice soft and quiet.

“What?” He gives you a sweet smile.

“Do you want to… come to my place?” You’re reluctant in your words, trying not to make them sound suggestive because really, they aren’t.

“Sure,” He smiles, not having to think about it for long which leaves you satisfied. “I’ll just call Appie to let him know,” He adds, pulling out his phone.

You wait for him to end the call as Joost raises his voice ever so slightly, presumably because the music from the bar is too loud for Apson to hear. Your Dutch isn’t the best but you manage to make out most of what Joost is saying, catching your name in between sentences. You hear Apson yell something on the other line which makes Joost giggle and mumble shut up as you give him a weird look.

He hangs up the phone, “Should we go?” He asks, you nod as you walk with him to a taxi down the road and usher him inside.

The ride is quite long, given the inevitable city traffic as you pass by more tall buildings that are sparkling with light. You’re sitting next to Joost in the backseat as your shoulders lightly bump into one another every time the driver makes an abrupt turn. Joost whispers little jokes to you every now and then, making you laugh with his humor that has not changed one bit. It fills your heart with warmth, reminds you of the old times. You keep glancing at him as he looks out the window and the lights illuminate his face beautifully, bringing out the beauty mark under his lips or how blue his eyes really are. He catches you staring a few times, smiling to himself at your poor attempt to hide it and the pattern repeats itself until you reach your apartment complex.

Joost thanks the driver, quickly closing the car door behind him to catch up with you as you’re already at the old-looking entrance door of the building, unlocking it.

“Quick, quick!” You giggle as he jogs to you in his usual silly manner and you let him in.

You take the elevator and on the way up you lightly hold his hand, bringing it closer to see the tattoos on his knuckles.

He chuckles to himself, “You like them?”

“Mhm,” You nod, letting your thumb lightly graze his digits. Your eyes return to his, he’s much closer now and you feel your heart beating faster than ever with the way he looks down at you, a subtle smile on his lips.

Your faces get closer and closer as you let his hand fall from yours, forgetting all about his tattoo, then ding.

The elevator door opens, revealing the narrow dimly lit hallway your apartment is in and just like that, the moment ends as you both step back from each other and out of the elevator.

You hurry to the end of the cold hallway and unlock the door to your place, ushering Joost inside.

The lights reflecting off of the surrounding buildings come through the big windows of your apartment, illuminating the room with a faint brightness. The space is relatively small and simply decorated, the only luxurious thing about it being the view of the city.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You ask, already making your way into the kitchen. “There’s wine and tequila,” you say loudly.

“Tequila,” Joost responds quickly, taking off his puffy jacket and leaving it on the coat rack next to the door.

By the time you’re back to the living room, Joost is sat comfortably on the big couch and you notice he’s turned on the lamp next to him which now casts a warm yellow light in the room.

You hand Joost his shot placing the half empty tequila bottle on the table, then sit down next to him, maybe in closer proximity than truly needed.

“Cheers!” He grins as you both down the shots, the feeling of the hard liquor going down your throat momentarily giving you goosebumps. Joost drinks it like it’s water before slamming the glass on the table, a sight that makes you laugh in surprise as you remember how easily he used to get drunk when you first met him.

“I needed this,” You sigh, your words implying how shitty your night — or life in general — has been.

Joost narrows his eyes at you; he had already sensed that you’re not well from your previous implications but now he has to ask. Even after everything he still worries the same amount, hates seeing you unhappy.

“You okay?” You turn to look at him, smiling at his question. You can’t even remember the last time someone asked you that.

“Yeah,” You nod repeatedly in an attempt to convince Joost, not wanting to ruin his night with your seemingly unimportant problems but he sees right through you, his face making it clear he doesn’t believe you. “Or no,” you laugh to loosen the tension, covering your face with your hand in disappointment.

“What’s wrong?” Joost asks calmly while he caresses the small of your back.

“I don’t know, it’s just…” you mumble, “Sometimes I get the idea that I made the wrong choice returning here,”

You’re looking away from him, not used to oversharing like this. Usually, you would have stopped at the first sentence but the drinks from the club paired with the shot you just had, make it harder for you to shy away from sharing your feelings.

“Like what if I’m not good enough at this? Maybe this life isn’t for me after all,” Your voice becomes strained as you fight back tears, this being the first time you express your fears out loud.

“That’s not true,” Joost raises his voice ever so slightly, “You’re great with fashion, you’ve always been great. You even picked my outfits for me sometimes, remember?” He chuckles at his last words, the shared memory making you both giggle as you finally face him again.

Your eyes linger in his and you get the urge to kiss him, realizing that you may want this night to end differently.

He stands up straight in front of you and says, “Here,” smiling widely as you look up at him confused, “Judge my outfit,”

“Judge your outfit?” You repeat his words to him and laugh. Joost nods as he turns around, letting you see the full outfit and posing in between. You’re clearly amused, letting small chuckles slip from your lips every now and then, watching as Joost shows off his clothes one by one.

Your eyes can’t help but fall to his belt as he plays with it, the metallic letters that read Albino glowing in the darkness of the corner he’s standing at. Your body feels warmer at that as a sinister thought flashes through your mind which you quickly shake off.

“Models aren’t allowed to touch their clothes, you know?” You point out sarcastically, mimicking the tone that your boss usually had when she talked to the models.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” He says in a half serious tone as you nod.

“So?” He asks, you’re assuming he’s waiting for you to judge his choice of clothing as you sit up straighter on the couch.

“Well…” You take a coy expression, holding back the smile on your lips, “It could use some changes, with my help,”

“You think?” Joost takes a look at his outfit, not directly understanding the true motivation behind your words. “Like what?”

“Come closer and I’ll show you,” Joost pauses for a second, a smirk grows on his lips as he starts to catch on to what exactly it is that you’re suggesting. He takes a few steps forward, so close to you that your face is practically aligned with his belt as you suck in a deep breath. You don’t really know where you’re going with this but the alcohol in your system doesn’t let you think of your choices thoroughly right now, instead you’re overcome with need, the desire to touch Joost in any way possible.

“I’m all ears,” He says, his voice low and raspy.

You bite back a smile, tugging on the soft material of his t-shirt. “This needs to go,” You say, masking your lust with an innocent voice.

“Do you want to style me or undress me?” Joost raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused by your intentions.

“I need a clear canvas to work,” You respond coyly and once again pull on his shirt, coaxing him to take it off.

“Fair enough,” Joost pulls the shirt over his head, revealing the blonde hairs on his happy trail. His pants are hanging low on his stomach, making the waistband of his underwear stick out all the more, the letters supreme on it and you shamelessly take in the image of his bare chest.

Joost soon brings his hand to your chin, lifting your head up so that you can see his face clearly. Your body is practically aching with need by now, imagining how his fingers would feel in other parts of your body.

He silently leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You’re initially taken by surprise as it takes a few seconds for you to part your lips before you finally get to feel him against your tongue. He tastes like cigarettes and liquor but you don’t mind, it only serves as a reminder that this is actually happening.

Joost lowers his body, resting one knee on the couch to balance himself as he pushes you back into the big pillows. His lips wander off to your neck, peppering small kisses on it which later turn into gentle bites that are sure to leave marks on your skin.

“Do you like that?” He asks, noticing the small whimpers that escape your mouth. You hum in agreement, feeling yourself grow more wet under his continuous touch.

“It’s been so long,” He mutters in between more kisses distributed evenly across your neck and jaw. You wonder if he has missed this as much as you have, whether he has also been thinking of you every now and then, searching for you in every girl he has met since you left.

At this point you’re eager, unable to keep your composure any longer. You pull him away slightly, ignoring the confused expression on his face as you quickly shove him back against the couch, switching roles with him.

Your knees fall to the wooden floor, you bring both hands to his knees, looking up at him then towards his belt.

“Your pants are next,” You say, in reference to your previous conversation. Joost chuckles, mumbling some curse under his breath, he’s flustered and it’s because of you. He unbuckles his belt impatiently, shifting slightly to pull his pants down as you do the rest for him, tugging on the rough material of his pants to fully take them off.

His legs are also littered with tattoos, similarly to his arms and your fingers instinctively trail up his thigh until they reach his underwear. You can see the outline of his hardened cock as you gently press your palm on top of it, earning a stifled groan from him.

“These can stay on,” You decide to tease him, Joost laughs at that.

“Fuck off,” He says, earning a smile from you.

Gladly, you think to yourself as your fingers play with the elastic waistband of his boxers.

Your eyes shift to his face briefly, quietly asking for his consent to which he nods at. With a final pull, his cock springs free from his boxers, reminding you of its big size. The tip is leaky with precum as you lick it, making Joost hiss at the sensation.

You take him in your mouth eagerly until the tip reaches the back of your throat, causing you to wince ever so slightly.

“Easy there,” Joost coos, pushing your hair out of the way for you and keeps it in a gentle grip as you skillfully begin to suck his cock. The way your mouth stretches around him coaxes a mixture of groans and curses to fall from his lips, his hold on your hair tightening. He looks down at you, still in your fancy little dress and on your knees for him, the sight turning him on all the more.

The fact that you’ve gotten so good at this makes him think of all the men you’ve probably been with after him and he can’t help but feel a little jealous at that.

“Like that,” His voice is breathy as he mumbles different kinds of praises to you, sending a rush of heat through your core. He starts guiding your head with gentle force, careful not to hurt you, slowly pushing his cock until it nudges the back of your throat . Your face feels hot and despite Joost’s gentleness, there are tears in the corners of your eyes, most definitely smudging your mascara and the dark eyeshadow on your eyelid.

Joost is close but he doesn’t want to come just yet, opting to come inside of you later. He pulls your head back slightly, drawing his cock out of your mouth with one last breathy moan.

You’re breathing heavily as you lock eyes with him, your lips swollen and eyes glossy with tears. He caresses your cheek with his big tattooed fingers, a soft smile lingering on his lips.

“You wanna get undressed too, baby?” He says in a low tone.

“Sure,” You mumble softly, getting up from your knees that are red from how long you’ve been sitting on the floor.

You take off your black boots that end just below your knees, uncovering the rest of your black patterned tights. Your fingers impatiently reach for the zipper to the back, fumbling with it until you finally loosen the silk dress you’re wearing, letting it fall to the floor as you stay in nothing but your black lingerie adorned with tiny bows here and there. Joost’s eyes linger on your body and he swears this is the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, noticing how beautifully your body has grown over the years and how confidently you stand in front him now, more like a woman and less like a girl.

You can sense his infatuation with you with the way he’s looking up at you and it only fuels your ego, a sudden cockiness coming through you.

“Are you just gonna stare?” You taunt him, Joost smiles at that.

“As if you don’t enjoy it,” He says, you assume he’s right.

He reaches his hands out to your hips, pushing you closer in between his legs as you place your arms loosely around his neck. He massages the area of your ass, though the material of your tights is in the way, preventing him from fully feeling your skin against his palms.

“Let’s take these off, shall we?” You smile in agreement and give him a small nod as he begins to lower your tights inch by inch, exposing the soft skin of your legs. Once they’re off, he presses wet open-mouthed kisses on your thighs, making your pussy clench around nothing but solely the idea of his mouth in between your folds, tasting you with his tongue as it swirls around inside of you.

The momentary fantasy draws loud sighs from your lips, correspondingly to the kisses Joost places on your skin. He notices, unable to hide the cocky smile on his lips as he starts moving higher, towards your stomach.

“Your bra,” he mutters, continuing his work on your body, “Take it off,”

You do as he says, trembling fingers rushing to unhook your bra, all the while Joost keeps on kissing your stomach that is rising up and down from your intense breaths. You pull your bra off, tossing it to the floor where the rest of your clothes are as Joost stares at your breasts, your nipples hardened as a result of his previous touch on your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” His small compliment sends a warmth to your face, a sweet smile forming on your lips and you can’t help but caress the sides of his face with your thumb.

You place one knee on the surface of the couch as you come face to face with Joost, giving him better access to the upper half of your body. Now that you’re this close to him, you notice the small stain that your red lipstick left on his lips earlier, letting out a small laugh at that.

He smiles, kissing you deeply on the mouth, jaw, collarbones, then finally your breasts. The tingling of his tongue on your nipples makes you moan quietly as he takes one of your tits in his mouth, sucking on the sensitive skin.

The inside of your thighs is practically burning with anticipation now as more moans fall from your lips. “Joost please,” You breathe out in desperation as he hums against your boobs, “I can’t wait any longer,”

“I get it baby,” Joost withdraws from your chest, places a peck near your lips then nods to his side, “Come on, lie down,”

You lie down on your bare back, resting your head against one of the pillows to get a better view of your body. Joost turns to you, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach as he gazes down at your naked body, the only thing covering it being your panties.

“Alright, you ready?” He asks, his voice soft.

“You make it sound as if I’m being drafted into the military,” You say, causing him to giggle.

“Just asking,” He slightly puts his hands up in the air, “It’s been a while,” He says ever so softly as you both share a smile, silently expressing how much you want this. To anyone else, it would just look like a casual hook up but to you it’s so much more than that, layered with feelings and memories.

“Okay, you have my consent,” You say slowly, your voice close to a whisper. He nods satisfied, planting one last quick kiss on your lips before his fingers find the waistband of your black lace panties. His cock is hard, falling on your inner thigh, an image that only adds to the heat you’re experiencing.

You lift your ass, only a little so that Joost can slip your panties off of your legs, not bothering to tease you much about it. The air of the room feels cold against your wet pussy, causing it to twitch as Joost mumbles some curse in Dutch.

“So wet for me,” He coos as he collects the wetness from your folds with a quick stroke of his tip, making you gasp, your thighs closing at the sudden friction. He props one hand close to your face for balance and lines his cock with your entrance before starting to push into you slowly. The sensation of your walls clenching around him inevitably lets a shared moan fall from your lips as Joost bottoms out, then begins to thrust into you in a controlled manner that makes your head dizzy with pleasure.

“You’re so tight schatje,” The pet name is familiar, yet you still fight back a smile at the sound of it.

You stare up at him in adoration; his bare chest is glistening in sweat, his blonde hair is messy and his lips are slightly parted as soft grunts escape them. He was and is still the most beautiful man to you, despite all the insecurities that linger on his mind.

You notice he’s kind of tired because he’s struggling to stay propped up on his arms above you and you wrap your arms around his back, pulling him down to your chest. His body is heavier against yours but you don’t care, you embrace him while he continues his deep thrusts to your core that gradually become faster.

The way he fucks you is so perfect that it drives you wild. He knows your body so well, knows all the right places to touch as his tip keeps on hitting that one spot inside of you, pushing you closer to your climax.

Joost is close too, burying his head on the crook of your neck as you feel his hot breaths and the vibrations of his groans on your skin.

Your fingers dig into the sticky flesh of his shoulders, your breaths are shallow and you can’t suppress your loud moans given the frantic pace at which Joost is now slamming his shaft into you.

You try to tell him but it seems like the only words you can utter right now are continuous curses in between your uncontrollable whimpers.

“I’m- fuck,” Joost breathes, “I’m coming baby, I promise,”

Before you can respond in any way, you’re driven over the edge. Your vision becomes blurry, the only things you can hear are your embarrassingly loud moans and Joost’s own groans as you come on his cock.

Joost follows shortly after your orgasm, his warm release spilling inside of you while he sloppily fucks every part of you.

“Fuck,” He exhales and collapses on top of you. Your fingers graze his back, trying to soothe the red marks that your fingernails left on him earlier. Joost places his arm around your waist as you both let your deep breaths fill the silence of the room.

You stay like this for a minute or so, then he carefully pulls out of you as you hiss slightly at the feeling.

-

You’re the last one to take a shower and as you come back to your bedroom, you see Joost lying comfortably between the pillows and your stuffed animals, an image you wish you could see everyday. You climb atop the bed, also lying down as you cuddle him without hesitation and he’s quick to wrap an arm around you as well.

“When are you leaving New York?” You ask, hoping for the answer to be never, despite how unrealistic that sounds.

“In two days,” You nod against his chest but really, you want to break out into tears at the simple thought of losing him again and so soon.

You feel him take a deep breath, “Joost?” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Can we spend the day together, tomorrow?”

He smiles even though you can’t see him, a bittersweet smile at that. He feels the same way as you, dreading the moment he’ll have to leave you, wanting to make up for the lost time. “Of course, liefste. Where do you wanna go?”

“I don’t know,” You mumble, “Oh! Maybe I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant, it’s not too far from here,”

“Okay, that sounds perfect,” His hands caress your hair and he leans down to place a reassuring peck on the top of your head.

You wish this moment would never end. If you could, you’d move with him back to the Netherlands tomorrow and start over, do everything right this time. But for now, all you can do is hold him tighter, make every moment count until he leaves. And then who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be together again.

───────────────────────

thank you for reading !! <3

[hunkpossession0]

From Park to Penthouse: My Life as a Bear Hunk

I was just a regular guy, trying to make ends meet and get through life. My days consisted of the usual routine: wake up, work a mundane job, come home, rinse, and repeat. Nothing exciting ever really happened to me. But all of that changed on a cool, crisp morning in the park.

I usually took early morning walks just to clear my mind. The park was quiet at that time, the only sounds being birds chirping and the occasional jogger’s footsteps echoing through the trees. That’s when I saw him—*the* guy everyone always seemed to notice, the bear hunk who owned the park every time he stepped foot in it.

He was the kind of guy who commanded attention without even trying. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a perfect layer of muscle covering every inch of his frame. His chest and arms bulged as he did his push-ups effortlessly, and even his sweat seemed to gleam like it had a purpose. His beard was thick, well-groomed, and his face was one of those ruggedly handsome ones you’d expect to see in some magazine cover.

I envied him—his body, his confidence, the way people looked at him with a mix of admiration and lust. It wasn’t fair. Why did he get to live such a charmed life while I was stuck being an average nobody?

As I walked closer, I saw something strange lying near a bench—an old, weathered medallion with strange symbols carved into it. It looked ancient, almost mystical. I don’t know what compelled me to pick it up, but as soon as I did, I felt a surge of energy pulse through my body. It was like electricity, but not painful—more like a powerful vibration that filled every cell in my body.

Then, without warning, everything went black.

---

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the grass, staring up at the sky. I sat up, feeling oddly different. My body felt... heavier, stronger. I looked down and nearly jumped out of my skin. My once-skinny arms were now thick and muscular, covered in a light dusting of hair. My clothes were straining against my newly massive frame.

I reached up to feel my face, and instead of the usual smoothness, my hand met a thick, rugged beard. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling slightly as I tried to adjust to the new weight and power in my legs. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a nearby pond, and my breath caught in my throat.

I was *him*. The bear hunk.

Somehow, that medallion had switched our bodies. I was no longer the average guy who blended into the background. I was the man everyone noticed—the man everyone *wanted*.

---

It took a few days to get used to my new life, but I quickly adapted. As it turned out, the bear hunk wasn’t just a regular gym-goer; he was wealthy beyond belief. His penthouse apartment overlooked the city, and his wardrobe was filled with designer clothes that clung perfectly to my new body. Everywhere I went, people stared, admired, and envied me.

But I wasn’t satisfied with just looking good and being rich. I had a new plan—one that involved indulging in all the pleasures that my new life had to offer. I booked a luxurious vacation to a private resort, a place where the elite went to unwind and let loose. And, of course, where the hot twinks flocked to for a chance at living the good life, even if just for a weekend.

The resort was everything I could have hoped for. The sun was warm, the drinks were cold, and the pool was filled with gorgeous guys who couldn’t take their eyes off me. I’d catch their stares as I lounged by the water, flexing my muscles just enough to make them bite their lips in desire.

At night, the real fun began. The clubs were filled with twinks looking for someone just like me—someone who could take control and show them a good time. And I was more than happy to oblige. I could see the way their eyes lit up when I approached them, how they practically melted under my touch.

This was the life I’d always wanted, the life I deserved. No more being overlooked or ignored. Now, I was the one in control, the one who got to choose.

The medallion was now a distant memory, tucked away in the back of a drawer in my penthouse. I had no intention of going back to my old life. This was who I was now, and I wasn’t about to give it up. Not when there were so many more adventures to be had, so many more twinks to seduce.

As I stood on the beach, looking out at the endless ocean, I couldn’t help but smile. Life as a bear hunk was everything I had dreamed of and more. And it was just getting started.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (LET ME GET WHAT I WANT)

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SUMMARY ↳ ;) Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: threats of bodily harm wc: 4.3k

Nothing quite says party like a Tony Stark party. You distinctly remember your first one. You weren’t even planning to come, but when Tony saw you in bed with pajamas he bullied you into getting dressed. He said that you ‘needed to get out more’, which was bull, but whatever. As payback you drank as much alcohol as you could sneak. The scolding from Steve you got was worth it seeing Tony’s appalled stare.

This time, you intend to stay in bed.

Bruce Wayne has decided to throw a New Year’s Gala, for whatever reason. You think it doubles as a charity, but you don’t know why else he would throw it, nor do you care enough to find out. He did invite you, but you’re not too keen on being perceived by society.

“You look nice,” you muse, seeing Damian in his little formal wear. He’s made a quick stop in your room, for whatever reason. He’s a cute sight, so you’re not complaining.

Damian adjusts the cufflinks on his formal wear. "Thank you," he mutters, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "You should come.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Nice try, hun. But I’m really not in the mood to be around a bunch of snooty elites."

He sighs, looking slightly disappointed. "It would be more bearable with you there."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you tease, reaching out to straighten his tie. "Besides, someone has to stay and hold down the fort. Unless, of course, you’re asking me to be your date?”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t dignify your comment with a response. Finishing fiddling with his tie, you step back from him. You see his hands twitch just a tad.

“Hi, [Name].” You turn to see Jon poking his head through your doorway, smiling cutely. He steps in, letting you see that he too is dressed up for the party.

“Well shit, look at you,” you grin, eyes roaming his figure.

He spreads his arms out, bashful. “Look at me,” he says, hands coming up to fidget with his tie. “I wasn’t sure about the tie, though. Damian said it was too flashy.”

You chuckle softly. “He’s just jealous he can’t pull it off like you.”

Jon laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

There’s a comfortable silence as you glance between Jon and Damian, both looking unexpectedly nervous in their formal wear. It’s a stark contrast to their usual confident selves when they're out on patrol or facing down villains.

“So,” Jon starts, his tone casual, “are you coming with us?”

“Absolutely not,” you grin. “I do not have the energy to deal with people right now.

Damian huffs softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Jon before turning back to you. "You're missing out on Father's attempt at social philanthropy," he remarks dryly, clearly not a fan of the gala idea either.

Jon nods in agreement, his smile widening. "True, but I guess we'll have to suffer through it together."

You chuckle at their banter, appreciating their effort despite your reluctance. "Well, make sure to bring me back a good story or two. Preferably involving Bruce embarrassing himself on the dance floor."

Jon grins mischievously. "Deal. We'll keep you posted."

As they leave your room, Damian pauses at the door, looking back with a faint smile. "If you change your mind," he offers quietly, "you know where to find us."

You nod, blowing them kisses as they leave. You settle back into your cozy spot, grateful for the quiet evening ahead. From here, you can hear the chatter and glasses clinking from partygoers downstairs. You sigh and sink into your bed with no further plans for the night. Just as you start to drift into a more relaxed state, your thoughts briefly return to Damian and Jon.

Damian. Damian is so complex. So rich in character. He carries an air of absoluteness around him. Every now and again you have that realization that everybody around you is living their own complex lives. You guess that realization hits harder, since you had never entertained the thought of him being real. Foolish on your pat, with what you know.

Jon, Jon exudes a warmth that contrasts with Damian's reserved nature. His easy going manner and quick smile charm you so. Only he, who gets his powers from the sun, could shine so bright. He's the kind of person who can brighten any room he enters.

The sounds of the party drift up faintly, a reminder of the world outside your cozy sanctuary. For now, you're content to enjoy this peaceful moment to yourself, letting your eyes drift close.

.

.

.

“Hello?” a voice echoes out. It’s yours. An amalgamation of bright lights closes in on itself behind you. Footsteps echo as you walk down the alley. You don’t hear any civilians walking and talking or any cars going down the roads. New York is quiet tonight.

Swinging up onto a building, you began making your way across the city. The eerie silence is unnerving you. The usual hustle and bustle is conspicuously absent, replaced by an unsettling calm. In fact, New York is… completely dark. Not one apartment light is on.

Avengers tower looms over the city. It’s the only building with—some—light. The building… isn’t really a building. Half of it is gone, jagged and broken edges pointing skyward. Cracks litter the walls, glass broken.

Your footsteps echo softly as you approach the tower. The air feels heavy with a sense of desolation. There’s pieces of broken armor and weapons. Flickering lights casting eerie shadows.

As you move through the ruins, a faint voice calls out—a whisper carried on the wind. You turn, but there's no one there. The silence intensifies, punctuated only by the distant sound of your own breathing.

Suddenly, a figure appears before you—a spectral image of Tony Stark, his armor battered and glowing faintly. His eyes meet yours with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

"You were supposed to be here," he murmurs, his voice echoing in the empty chamber. "Where were you?”

You reach out, but your hand passes through his ethereal form. He fades slowly, leaving you alone. You see a broken red, white and blue shield in the distance. 

“No, no, nononono. This wasn’t supposed to happen–”

There’s a woman behind you. She seems familiar. “You left us.”

You left them. All to die.

There’s a piercing scream as you're sucked into an explosion of colors below you. You try to reach out, to grab onto something, but there’s no one there.

You sit up with a gasp, suddenly at a loss for breath. Your body is tense and sweaty and you’re breathing heavily. Your heartbeat is booming in your ears. It feels like it’s going to burst from your chest. The sensation of falling fades as you orient yourself to the familiar surroundings of your room.

You glance around, reassuring yourself with the reality of your peaceful sanctuary. The sounds of the party downstairs continue to drift up faintly, a distant reminder of the world outside your door. You rub your temples, trying to dispel the last traces of the unsettling dream.

Taking a deep breath, you reach for a glass of water on your bedside table, sipping slowly to calm your nerves. “Karen, how long was I asleep?”

“Only an hour.”

You bury your face in your hands, breathing. Sometimes you think your mind is your biggest enemy. You should’ve figured, really. You haven’t had a proper nightmare since you’ve gotten here. It was only a matter of time.

“Might I suggest heading to the Den to take your mind off things?” Karen's voice is soft, achingly so. It’s comforting.

You don’t respond verbally, only nodding your head. You throw off the covers sluggishly, still trying to ground yourself. You put on the first clothes you find. They’re definitely not gala material, but that’s fine. You’ll only pop in to tell someone where you’re going.

Titus is loitering the halls, but he comes to you when he sees you out and about. He sniffs you, gruffing like he’s disturbed by something. Maybe he can sense that you’re a little unnerved right now. You give him good pets before moving on past him.

The grandeur of the gala spills out into the hallway, the lights casting a warm, inviting glow. Chatter floods your ears as you arrive just outside the entrance to the grand room. The place is perfectly lit up and shiny. The sounds of laughter and conversation form a stark contrast to the silence of your dream, grounding you.

Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away.

You hesitate at the entrance, your eyes drawn to Jon and Damian standing together. The way Jon's eyes light up when he looks at Damian, and the small, almost imperceptible smile that tugs at Damian's lips in response, speaks volumes. They stand close, their bodies angled toward each other.

Damian reaches out to brush away a curl from Jon's face. Jon smiles, mouthing something. He talks animatedly, eyes bright. Damian watches. Fondly, you realize, he’s watching. There’s even a little small smile on his face. It puts a matching one on your face. It reminds you of Pepper and Tony, the way they look at each other.

Like they’re in love.

…

Oh.

Oh.

Holy shit, they’re in love, aren’t they? Holy shit. How did you not notice? Well… you’re not often hanging out with both of them at the same time, are you? You know they hang out on their own without you. They were friends before they knew you of course. Since they were children. Oh God, you hope they aren’t, like, secretly dating or anything. You’ve been flirting with them, but it was playful! You swear!

.

.

.

God, what have you been doing?

You need to get home. You’re not supposed to be here. You should be at the tower, playing darts with Clint, or looking for colleges you want to go to. Not here, not pretending like everything is fine, everything is normal, everything is how it’s supposed to be. You’ve forgotten yourself, gotten too comfortable. You feel a sudden detachment, like a thread just snapped. This is a borrowed fantasy.

Like clockwork, you put on a grin, baring your teeth. You take a step back, the sounds of the party fading into the background. It's as if everything is moving in slow motion, every sound is distant and every breath is drawn out. The party fades away as you turn, making your way towards the exit. Each step feels heavy, like you're carrying a weight you can't quite name.

All you hear is a constant ringing in your ear as you swing from building to building. There are people in the streets, no doubt celebrating the incoming new year. The city seems especially alive, lights twinkling. You’re grateful you can’t feel the biting cold air thanks to your suit. You fear you’re already feeling too much right now.

By the time you reach the familiar tunnel, your stomach is in knots. You’re on autopilot as you move the rubble, climbing in. The cute fairy lights feel too bright now. Your mask retracts, letting you breathe in.

You grab a screwdriver, not yet knowing what you’re going to do. “You might be able to finish before midnight,” chimes Karen.

Really? Had you been that far along in your progress? Oh. Maybe you knew and just forgot. You don’t really know right now. Your legs feel stiff as you approach the particle accelerator, screwing in a part tight. You work methodically, hands steady despite the turmoil in your mind. Each screw, each connection, each calibration is a step closer to completion, closer to... what? A return to your old life?

Karen's voice interrupts your thoughts gently, "You're almost done. Just a few more adjustments."

You nod absently, tightening another screw. The particle accelerator is nearly ready. Your mind drifts to the dream again—Tony, the absence of life, your home that you don’t recognize. "You left us," echoes in your mind.

Finally, the last screw is in place. You step back, wiping a hand down your face, and take a deep breath. The machine hums with a soft, steady power. It's ready. You're ready. Or at least, the machine is.

You stand back, staring at the particle accelerator with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. The steady hum of the machine fills the air, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. It's a portal, a bridge to another reality (the start of one, at least) another chance to set things right—or at least, to find some semblance of peace.

You insert a prism into it, making sure it’s secure. “Initializing…” hums Karen. The particle accelerator hums, lights flickering on and running down it. Sound whirls as you grab the little wheel you attached to it. “Approaching maximum power.”

The machine shakes as you turn the wheel. The prism turns, guiding a light. The light cuts through the space, producing fire and sparks where it hits. It cuts an old pipe in half. Whoops.

In front of you, lies an object akin to that of Tony Stark's arc reactor. Of course, it’s not actually an arc reactor, it’s just there to hold the new element. The light pierces and cuts until finally, it reaches its target. You think you hear the prism chime as the light hits the little triangle in the holder. You know that that’s the case when the chime gets louder as the light gets brighter. Brighter, brighter, brighter—oh.

You turn the machine off, looking at the glowing creation. The light fades, showing you the bright glowing triangle that is the new element. You sigh in content.

You duck under the particle accelerator, approaching the mimic arc reactor. Your fingers flex in anticipation, reaching out. The claws of your suit clink against the tiny triangle as you pick it up.

“Congratulations, [Name]. You’ve successfully recreated Tony Stark’s new element.”

You hum. “Well, couldn’t have done it without you and your awesome know-it-all abilities, my dear.”

A symphony of crackles, pops, and booms that fill your ears. Each pop rattles off as it fades. Oh, the fireworks. Is it…

“What time is it, K?”

“It is currently twelve AM, on the dot. I think this was an appropriate way to start the new year, don’t you?”

You chuckle, bowing your head. “Happy New Year.” You wonder if Damian and Jon… no. Probably shouldn’t think about that.

“Happy New Year, [Name].”

“...Happy New Year…”

You whirl around, fist tightly curling around the badassium. There’s no one there. Um. Were you imagining things? Oh, you see now, a figure there in the corner. A figure, somebody. Somebody that looks like…

Looks like…

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now…”

How did your senses not pick up on them?

“I… don’t know what I’m doing here myself.”

They’re stepping closer to you.

“I guess… well. I don’t know.”

It’s… it’s…

“But I do know… that I’m sorry. I was… I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

It’s the spider… the one from the warehouse. The reason why you’re here.

“You…” Suddenly, you can’t breathe.

They clasp their hands behind their back, looking around the room. Then they look at you. Stare at you. The eyes of their suit squint as they take in your face. “Pretty cozy place. More cozy than mine, that’s for sure.”

You put down the badassium, afraid you’ll break it in your fist. They turn to look at it, then at the particle accelerator. “You work fast. Faster than me. It took me way too long to make that big stupid thing. I didn’t have any blueprints or even confirmation that it would work, but–”

A scratchy yell erupts from your mouth as you pounce at them. They dodge, fucking spidey senses.

They hold out their hands. “Woah woah woah, wait–”

You don’t wait. You lunge at them again, claws swiping out to them. It lands, leaving behind red. They don’t have an armored suit like yours. You have the advantage.

They scramble out of your way, knocking over things as they go. “Please–”

You grab their suit at their collarbone, pulling them to you. “You!”

“Me?” they squeak.

“You’re the reason I’m fucking stuck here!”

“I know I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! I was being stupid! I just–”

“I don’t care,” you growl, showing your fangs. Your shoulders flex, releasing the nano spider legs. They emerge hauntingly, their sharpened points glinting, poised and ready to strike.

“You know, I’m not really like the other spiders. Most of ‘em anyways,” you drawl. “Apart from being the only [Name] I know, my moral compass is a roulette wheel. I’m a hero of course, I save who need saving, and punish who needs punishing.”

“Truth is,” you lean in, eyes wide and flickering with hot pink, “I am much more keen to violence than the others. I’ve killed people. A couple of people, actually,” you admit, voice low and intense. “Doesn’t make me a true good person, of course, but it does make the world a bit safer for those that are.”

They try to struggle free, but you hold them firm. "I'm going to figure out what you need. So tell me, what the fuck are you doing?”

They sniff, taking in a deep breath. “I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t hurt people.” Their hands quiver as they latch onto yours. “I just wanted to go home, and I thought you were gonna stop me–”

You growl and they yelp. “It’s not an excuse! I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s my explanation. I just.. I felt bad. I was…” they pause.

“I was working on this machine. A particle accelerator,” they sigh, oblivious to the way your ears start ringing. “I was messing around, and I got stuck in your universe. I tried to go back home. I tried for so long, acting like everything was normal, like I belonged but I… I had to go back home.” Their voice gets wobbly. “I spent so long there, I got desperate.”

They start sniffling, and you know they’re crying. “I thought, if I could find where you went… I could help you get back to your universe. So what happened to me won’t happen to you.” They take a step back. Oh, did you let them go? “I can’t take you with me. Other things can't pass through my portal without turning to dust, but…”

They reach into a pocket, pulling out a small, intricate device. It glows softly in their hand, emitting a faint, steady pulse.

“...What is it?” you croak.

"It's a catalyst," they explain, their voice still shaky. "It’s what I used to stabilize the rift. You know, so my atoms wouldn’t get scattered across space.”

Your gaze narrows, skeptical of the device in their hand. "Why should I trust you?" you demand, voice edged with exhaustion and anger.

They take a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a mix of desperation and sincerity. "You shouldn’t,” they admit. "But I know what it's like. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone."

You stare at the catalyst, the faint pulse mesmerizing. "And if this doesn't work? If you're lying?"

You feel their eyes on you through their mask, voice filled with regret and determination. "Then you can do whatever you think is necessary. But I promise you, I'm not lying."

Your silence hangs heavy between you. The sounds of the fireworks outside are distant echoes, reminding you of the world outside this tense moment. Finally, you reach out and take the catalyst from their hand, feeling its weight and the subtle hum of energy within.

“You really want to help?” you whisper, fist curling around the catalyst. “Find Miguel O'Hara from Earth-928.” Your grip tightens around the catalyst as you step back, letting the weight of the moment settle in. The stranger stands still, their eyes fixed on you through their mask. You can see the weariness in their posture, the heaviness of their own burdens reflected in their stance.

“Find him, and tell him where I am.”

They nod slowly. “I’ll find him. I promise.” Their voice holds a note of determination.

You step back and wave an arm. “Just go.” You’re well and truly done with everything at the moment.

They stand for a moment, looking at you. Looking through you. Then they turn away, and all you see is an eruption of bright and colorful light, before it’s gone just as fast as it came. The Den feels unfamiliar to you now.

You sink to the floor, mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. Sound is distant, the only thing you hear is a loud ringing. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, chest heaving. Your face feels wet. Ah, it’s tears. You’re crying. Why are you crying?

“–me]! [Name]! Come on, come back. I’m here, it’s okay–”

“Jon?” Is that your voice?

An arm curls around your shoulder and crowds you into his embrace. His warmth contrasts starkly with the cold dread that had settled in your chest. He holds you tightly, his presence grounding you. You cling to Jon like a lifeline, his warmth grounding you in the present.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hand smoothing down your back.

Sniffling, you sink into his embrace. “What are you doing here?” you mutter.

“Where else should I be?” With Damian. “I stuck my ear out, heard your heart beating fast. And the sound of you… well.”

You sigh heavily, cheek against his chest, listening to his own heartbeat. It's strong and steady, everything you want to be. “My heartbeat?”

He nods against your head. “Your heartbeat.”

You sigh again, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. “Oh, Jon...”

"Shh," he soothes, his hand still moving gently along your back. "You don't have to say anything right now."

"I don't deserve you," you murmur into his chest, your voice barely audible.

Jon tightens his hold on you, his voice firm yet gentle. "Don't say that. Please don’t say that."

You take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the night’s events settling over you. Jon’s presence is a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Jon.”

He tilts your chin up gently, his blue eyes filled with concern and determination. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

You don’t say anything, simply resting your head against him. His lips press against your forehead, gently and warm.

“In other news,” you sniffle, moving to get out of his embrace. He holds on to your for a moment, uncertain. But a persistent tug from you makes his arms drop. You reach up, grabbing the small glowing triangle. “Look what I made.”

He eyes the small thing in your claws. “What is it?”

“The badassium. The new element that I’ve created.” You rock it around gently. “I did it.”

Jon's eyes widen with surprise and admiration as he gazes at the glowing triangle in your hand. "That's incredible," he says, reaching out to gently touch the shimmering surface.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering heaviness in your chest.

He looks up at you, his expression softening with concern. "Are you... okay?"

You hesitate, unsure how to answer. Instead of words, you hand him the glowing badassium, letting him examine it closely. The warmth of his touch is grounding. He studies it, turning it this way and that, before looking at you again. He puts it down where it was, coming back to you to hold your hand.

“You’re incredible,” he breathes. You don’t have any words, so you keep your mouth shut. 

“...Wanna go home?” he asks tentatively. You nod. He slowly steps forward, kneeling down and hooking his arms under your legs and back when you show no sign of hesitance. Jon lifts you effortlessly, cradling you close as he stands. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes feeling heavy.

“I'm not invalid, Jon.”

“Just let me take care of you.” He shouldn't say things like that.

He makes sure that the Den is properly blocked and hidden by the rubble. After that, all you feel in the cold air biting at your cheeks as he flies you across the city. The lights below blur into streaks of color as you soar through the night sky. You cling to him, feeling the steady rhythm of his flight beneath you.

People are still at Wayne Manor as you approach, lights shining bright. Jon serves around the side, pulling up to your room's window. You sigh in relief as he gently sets you down in your room.

You see Damian rush over to you both, suit jacket forgotten. Was he waiting here for you?”

“Where were you?” he demands, hands coming up to rest on your arms. His concern is evident, his eyes searching yours for answers.

Jon steps forward, his hand resting on Damian's shoulder. "It doesn’t matter now. They’re okay," he reassures Damian, who nods slightly, though the crease in his brow doesn’t go away.

"Sorry," you say sincerely, looking at both of them, "for worrying you." You gently push Damian’s hands off you and go to your bed. Your clothes are comfortable enough, you decide. The soft pillow feels heavenly as you sink into the mattress. Hands come up the pull your blanket over you, lightly caressing your forehead before leaving.

Hushed voices bickering are the last thing you hear before darkness pulls you in.

notes: so... how we feeling? LOL

ngl i feel like the reasoning is cheap but how y'all liking the parallel? it'll make more sense later on, i promise ;)

also am i evil for using the "oh. oh." in that context? yes. yes i am

[richarlotte]

things to be involved with on campus?

Special Interest Groups. 

One of the things that helped me immensely when I first got onto campus was going to a bunch of events for the different clubs and groups my school hosts. I do French Club, Italian Club, Expat Society, and so many other fun things, and it’s all because I took the time to go out and connect with people. If you know no one, clubs and groups are going to be how you make your first friends, and they’re a great option if you don’t drink. I would strongly suggest reaching out, getting involved, trying new things, and seeing what works for you. Doing at least one extracurricular is essential when you’re in college, and being involved in things other than schoolwork will help you achieve your goals. Choose a club that interests you and go to a meeting.

Honors Societies. 

The better your grades, the more opportunities you’ll have. If your school has honor societies for students who make good grades, offers merit aid, or hands out better opportunities based on grades, you’ll want to make sure your grades are high. Some honor societies are also really nice; the ones on my campus host dinners and events, have cocktail hours and networking nights, and have direct lines to internships and prominent people in our city. I also think graduating with honors is a flex in itself; it shows a lot of motivation, it looks good on a diploma and better on a resume, and being in honor societies will give you access to more people, events, and opportunities.

Greek Life. 

I’m in Greek Life and it’s made a huge campus a lot smaller, it’s been a great experience, I live in the house and spend most of my life on the Row, it’s very fun and I’ve met some of my soulmates through my chapter, my social life and on campus life are bettered by being involved in Greek life, the networking opportunities and off campus experiences I’ve had due to my membership have been insane and the opportunities that have come from being a member of the house I’m in are fantastic. I’d recommend going through the process; it’s not that difficult to navigate, and you can always drop out. You’ll meet more people, you’ll have easier access to parties and a better social life, and it’s worth a shot if you want to live a certain life at school.

On-Campus Jobs and School Year Internships. 

I think it’s pretty important to begin laying down the foundation for your future while you’re still in college, and most people work small jobs, seek out internships, and network for better positions while in college. Gaining your independence, learning how to manage your time and money, and building your resume (and finding potential recommendation letter writers) should be a secondary priority of yours during this time. I know girls who work at bars, tutor, nanny, work at cafes and small shops, and who keep the libraries and offices at our school running. Whether you need to work or want to work, find an environment that you thrive in and that pays you well enough to enjoy work.

Richarlotte x

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve's parents compete to matchmake him with someone 1/?

Jonas and Diane Harrington sat in silence as their son's confession hung in the air. They'd met homosexuals before. You didn't travel as much as they did and not meet different people. But it had never occurred to them that someone so close to them - that their own son might be...

"Can you guys say something? Please?", Steve begged.

"Oh honey...", his mom started. "...Was Tommy?"

"What?", Steve pulled back at that. "Tommy? And me? Me and Tommy? No. We were never like that. Ever."

"Well, good for you son. You can do better", his father said, leaning back in his chair a little.

"He was so smarmy. You deserve someone who'll actually take care of you", Diane said, putting her hand on top of Steve's.

He looked down at the point of contact. "What's happening here?"

"Well, you being, you know, in your way, doesn't change our conversation", Jonas said. "We still think you need to stop sleeping around and find someone to be a little more serious with."

Diane nodded. "It's not good when all the gossip at the hairdresser's is about who your son is messing around with. Oh! What about Matthew?"

Steve raised a brow. "Your hairdresser?"

"Not mine, but he did fix me up when we were in New York, you remember the gala? He's nice, worldly-"

"I'm sorry", Steve interrupted. "I just told you guys for the first time ever that I'm gay, and you immediately try to set me up with someone?"

"Your love life is getting out of hand", Jonas said. He leaned forward and tented his hands on the table. "There's bets down at the bar. On who you're gonna knock up first."

"But if you're gay, we don't need to worry about surprise babies, right hon?", Diane smiled.

"Actually, I have a question about that now", Jonas started before his wife sent him a glare. "But we can save that for later. Point is, you need to hold on to someone for longer than a week."

Steve shook his head. "I can't believe my parents are talking to me about dating. What makes you think I can even get a guy? Can't exactly put the moves on them like I normally would."

His parents looked to each other, proving that neither of them really had an answer. With a sigh, Steve asked to be excused and when they granted permission, he went up to his room.

"Our Steve...a...a queer", Diane whispered.

"You think it's because I made him play football when he was a kid?", Jonas asked.

Diane shrugged. "If anything it's because of all those musicals we watched together. Then she released a heavy breath. It couldn't have been easy for Steve to tell them. And it couldn't have been easy for him to go on all those dates with those girls.

And if the rumors were true, he'd done more than date them. Jonas reached out and grabbed his wife's hand. From the moment their son had been born, all they had wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. Sometimes the healthy part meant leaving him for extended periods of time. Clearly, he'd been left on his own for too long. Surely they would have caught onto this sooner if they'd been around more, been involved more.

"What are we going to do?", Diane asked.

"You and I knew what we were going to do when we started this conversation", Jonas said, standing up from the table and putting his hands on his hips as he paced about the kitchen.

"Jonas, we can't give him Noelle's number now."

"Not Noelle, we just switch gears. Find a...a Nolan instead", Jonas decided, nodding as if to convince himself.

"Jonas, even if we can find another gay guy in this town, how do we know Steve will like him?"

"I know my son, I've got a decent idea what he likes."

Diane shook her head. “You just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?”, Jonas questioned. “What, I can’t see what makes a man attractive?”

“Not the way Steven would. I think I understand this a little better than you.”

Jonas’ hands went to his hips. “Oh you do? You think I can’t find our son a date? You don’t think I know a handsome man when I see one?”

“Name one then”, she challenged.

“….Robert Redford.”

She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Easy shot. Now name five that are actually our son's age."

Jonas looked put out and rolled his eyes. There was...there had to be some rock star, who was Steve listening to nowadays? Did he have a poster of someone? Who was in the movies? Maybe he had mentioned a boy at school at some point?

"Well, the bar is very high Diane. Steven is obviously the best looking boy at his school."

Diane grinned and stood up. "Was. He graduated, remember?"

"How can I forget? The grays won't stop coming."

Steve's graduation had been what had sparked this evening. Not getting into college, their son had seemed directionless. And messing around with too many girls had been the cherry on top. They had agreed to a gap year for him if he could use the time to get his relationships in check.

If he was into men, that made it slightly more challenging, but they wanted to give Steve the freedom to find himself. It was more than either of them had ever had. And what good was all the money if they couldn't spoil him a little.

"So, maybe I don't know what he's into. Doesn't mean I can't find him a good guy", Jonas said.

Diane wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "You do know a good thing when you see one."

They went upstairs to check in on their son only to find him halfway out the window with a packed duffle bag.

"I'm sorry", he said, leg hanging out. "There's just no way you guys were this cool about this."

"For god's sakes Steve, get back in here", Jonas grumbled, grabbing his son before he cracked his head on the ground.

"Believe it or not, your parents are capable of higher brain functioning", Diane said, already setting to unpacking the bag and putting the clothes away. "Some of this stuff doesn't even fit you anymore", she noted as she looked through his closet.

"Hey, how's about we all take a trip to the mall tomorrow?", Jonas suggested. "Refresh our wardrobes for the summer!"

"Oh that sounds perfect!", Diane agreed. "It's been a while since we Harringtons turned heads as a group."

Steve sat on the edge of his bed, looking tense, yet hopeful. "You guys don't...you don't think I'm any different? You don't...", his voice got small, "hate me?"

"Oh Steven!", his mother wailed and sat next to him in a rush, holding onto him tightly as she cried.

Jonas cleared his throat. "Di, there's no need for tears. There's nothing sad happening."

"I'm not crying because of Steve", she said defensively. "I was thinking about Matthew. I really hope he and Otis worked it out. And that he knows he always has family who love him. And that even if the world beats him black and blue he can always come home, okay? Always, you can always come home."

"Yeah mom, I know", Steve said, eyes wet as he got her thinly veiled meaning.

Jonas sniffed and patted Steve's shoulder. "And if the world does decide to put its hands on you, remember your old man's got mob connections."

Steve gave a watery laugh at that but thanked him anyway when his mom lit up in recognition.

"Oh! What about Ricci?"

"Ricci? For Steve? Get outta here", Jonas waved her off.

"Who is Ricci?", Steve asked.

"He's a nice boy", Diane answered.

"He's a numbskull is what he is. I'll do business with the mob, but I'm not giving them my son", Jonas said as he walked towards the door.

"Who said anything about giving? His family's well off, he can take Steve nice places", Diane said as she followed him.

Jonas threw his hands up in derision. "Mobsters are like five year olds with their dames. Once they lick it, it's theirs."

"OKAY good night!", Steve closed his door to shut out the rest of their talk.

"We're going to the mall at ten, honey! Be ready for breakfast", his mother called out, then continued her conversation with his dad. Probably debating whether or not to set him up with a closeted senator's son.

Steve rubbed his face and let out a sigh. He'd confessed tonight to get any talk of girls out of the way for the summer.

Mission accomplished?

Part 2 coming soon

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

The Kiss

Dread settled into his stomach as he checked the time. Again. 9pm. Either she was coming home soon or she would be gone another six hours. Seemed these dates either went wrong fast, or they went well enough for her to go home with them. If she didn’t come home until the middle of the night, the sushi he had ordered and was sitting in the fridge would be a “surprise” lunch tomorrow, as usual. One thing he had learned about her the night they had met was her love of sushi. It was her comfort food. Stressed? She wanted sushi. Sad? Sushi was the answer. Just not feeling well in general? You guessed it, sushi. Unbeknownst to Quinn he had actually started learning how to make it just so he could surprise her with it. Maybe get her in the kitchen with him to make it soon.

She would get so frustrated, but he loved cooking with her. Always so serious in the kitchen, whereas he was always coaxing her into having fun with it. Having fun with him. Quinn had a tendency to take things too seriously sometimes. Making a mess in the kitchen? She hated that. Part of him kind of loved antagonizing her a bit. The way she would look at him as he intentionally spilled the smallest amount of something on the counter. And even after all this time she still hadn’t figured out that was his warning before he would start a full on food fight with her.

Another glance at the clock. 9:20pm. If the date had gone bad early on she would be home in the next 30 minutes. She never went too far from home for the first part of the date. And if she was headed to their place after the date, she always turned location sharing back on with him. Just like he had taught her. Always meet them at the location. Stay close to home in case of emergency, and always let someone know where she was going. The fact she hadn’t shared her location with him yet was driving him insane. Logically he knew they were still at the restaurant. Which he had the address of. But the illogical part of him said she had stupidly left the restaurant with this guy and was lying in a ditch somewhere.

The front door swung open, the sound of her shoes being kicked off and hitting the wall startling him. He hadn’t even heard her key in the lock. Noah quickly checked his phone, making sure he hadn’t missed her usual “On my way home” text. Nothing. Oh, fuck. That meant one thing. The date had gone so terribly he doubted even sushi and a movie could fix it. He didn’t dare look up at her, even. The last time she had come home like this and he’d done that she went off about how she didn’t need his pity.

Usually she went straight for the kitchen and brought back the sushi that she inevitably made him eat with her. This time, however, she flung herself down on the couch, her body stretching out beside him while her head found its place in his lap. This was new. Unusual. Had it really been that bad? Slightly terrified of what he would find he looked down at her, noting that while there weren’t any marks on her, at least not on her face, it was obvious she had been crying. Her makeup was smudged just so.

“Hey, baby. What’s wrong?” His voice was quiet. Calm in spite of the confusion and anger swirling inside him. What the fuck had happened?

“He spent the entire hour at the restaurant talking about how much money he makes and how cool his stupid fucking car is.”

Okay. He was right. Dude was a total tool. But that didn’t explain the state she came home in.

“What the fuck did he do?”

Guilt pierced him when she flinched at his raised voice, but he couldn’t stop himself. The thought that he had hurt her, that this waste of oxygen might have put his hands on her, was driving him up the wall.

“Quinn! What the fuck did he do?!” He pulled her up to sit in his lap, his hands wandering over her as he searched for injuries.

“He didn’t touch me, Noah.” She swallowed, finally meeting his eyes. “He made a gross comment about goth girls, and I ended the date.”

Relief surged through him and he clutched her against him, hugging her as tight as he could without hurting her. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of peaches that always clung to her. That scent had become home to him. Shit, she was home for him. This asshole hadn’t put his hands on her. At least there was that.

“He-he followed me outside. Told me good luck finding a man that would put up with me. And…Noah, he’s fucking right. Look at my track record. Look at how we met! I was some sad, heartbroken girl drinking her sorrows away.”

Quinn broke. Right there in his arms. His words from earlier rang loud as fuck in his head. Telling her she had shitty taste in men. Her broken sobs, muffled by his shoulder, shattered him into millions of little pieces. She had never sounded like this before. Not even the night they had met. No matter what happened she never broke like this. So he did the only thing he could think to do at that moment. He took her head in his large hands, lifted it off his shoulder, and pressed his lips against hers in the hope that he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer!FemReader

Summary: From the LSU Tigers to the Cincinnati Bengals, their friendship never faded. Their feelings, however, grew stronger and even more oblivious. So obviously this was the job for Venus’ closest friends. Or will 3 years of dancing around each other crash down in 3 days?

Chapter 17: Operation Tiger

#Track9 Masterlist

Warnings: men with feelings, lots of feelings, all the feels, foul language, oblivious characters, angst with a happy ending.

A/N: ITS OUT! I DID IT and now I'm never reading it again, but y'all enjoy. If there are some grammar errors blame Grammarly (we got into a fight at 4 am). Also I edited this while having a dumb allergic reaction to my cat.

Word Count: 5.6k

Part Six 🖤

Friendships are a beautiful thing. Friend groups should be cherished for what they’re worth. These groups are rare, not because they’re hard to make but because they’re hard to keep. All friend groups have rules to keep the status quo for everyone involved. Team Shiesty even had some before they were ever known as Team Shiesty. An unspoken rule that they shared with all other friend groups was:

No one in the group should date anyone else in said group.

Fortunately for them that rule had yet to be broken.

Unfortunately for them two of their founding members had fallen for each other before the group could fully assemble. Which leads us to Operation Tiger. Our quarterback and Venus had been dancing around each other for far too long so the Atlanta natives of the group took it amongst themselves to create a new rule.

If your best friend is hopelessly in love and extremely oblivious to her suitor’s feelings for her, you HAVE TO INTERVENE.

˚₊‧ʚ♡ɞ‎‧₊˚

“If there’s one thing I don't miss about Atlanta, it's that damn traffic.” Venus lays back in her seat as the calmness of the suburbs settles in around her. Joe sat beside her in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel and the other tapping the hood as they came to a traffic light. He can’t help but smile at the look of pure boredom on the girl's face.

“I don’t understand why you wanted to drive 2 hours through awful traffic when you could've just hired a driver.” 

“Some of us like driving, you know. Plus it wasn’t that bad.” He shrugged as she pointed out the entrance to her parents' subdivision. 

“Yea yea, take your next 2 lefts then the first right and we’ll be at the house.” He nodded, following the directions through the never-ending neighborhood. 

“I remember absolutely hating it when we moved here. Part of that was just because I was in middle school, so I hated just about everything.”

“You think we would’ve been friends back then if we somehow went to the same school?” He asked jokingly before taking the last right. 

“Honestly J? Maybe? I was an emo chorus girl, but I wasn’t really afraid to talk to anyone if I needed to. I was also kinda nerdy so there’s that.” She shrugged. Soon they reached the cul de sac next to her house and he parked at the end of the driveway.

“Well I was the nerdy jock going through a very awkward puberty stage, so you would have never talked to me. You were probably too cool for me.” He smirked.

Venus playfully smacked his arm and shook her head, “I don't know what Mars told you, but I was not cool, I just talked to people.” Looking up at the light maroon house before her, the hidden anxiety about Joe meeting her parents crept its way back to her mind. 

‘But you were just friends, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, right?’

“You okay?” A shiver made its way up her spine before turning to the baby blue-eyed blond. “Take as long as you need, but I’m pretty sure someone saw us pull in.” He smiled. Blinding.

She attempted to match his expression, “I’m good. Just mentally preparing for the drama film that we’re about to walk into.”

Joe chuckled while pulling the key from the ignition and softly caressing her fidgeting hand. “Let’s go make you the main character then.” She let out a jittery laugh and attempted to shake the nerves off, but her fingers tangled with a loose string of her shirt. ‘Maybe this set wasn’t the best idea.’

Slowly her door was pulled open revealing Joe there with his hand out. Venus took a deep breath and let her friend guide her towards the door. Before either of them could knock or ring the bell, the door was yanked open by a girl with shoulder-length locs.

“Fucking finally! Come here.” Venus squeals as her best friend crushes her in her arms. A fruity but earthy perfume and castor oil fill her senses, images of the days when they walked around the mall complaining about their parents and school teachers flashed in her mind.

“I missed you so much babes.” They break away to wipe away the stray tears that had been shed.

She cupped and smushed Venus’ cheeks with her hands. “I missed you more, you’ve been held hostage by Louisiana long enough. I almost forgot how short you were.” Venus gasped and punched her in the arm.

“I take all of it back, I hate you.” She smirked.

Mars smiled while rubbing her arm, “damn, I forgot how hard you hit.”

“Can y’all move away from the door, so I can see this bitch?” A voice pleaded from behind them.

Mars rolled her eyes then moved over so the curly haired Latina could have a turn. “RiRi.” 

“Oh good, you still look how we left you.” She smirked before pulling her old roommate into a hug. 

“I’m going to try and not take offense to that because I’m excited to see you.”

“What? It’s nice to know that Louisiana or anyone else didn't change you.” She says, eyeing the man behind her.

“Yea speaking of height, can we address the giraffe in the room?” Mars winks, tipping her head like an imaginary hat.

Joe chuckled then ran his hand through his hair. “Guys, this is Joe. Joey, these are my best friends in the entire world, Riana and Mars.” 

“Hey, you can call me Joey if you want. It’s really nice to meet you.” He smiles and awkwardly waves.

“Ohhh I see the appeal now. You’re the silent awkward athlete who likes to surprise people with his abilities.” Mars points out.

“Really? I can see some fuckboy tendencies from here.” Riana replied. 

Venus was dumbfounded, “you just met- can yall bitches be nice, damn?” 

They shared the same smirk before properly introducing themselves to the quarterback, then winked at their friend before retreating into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry about-

Before she could finish her dad walked into the room. His eyes went to hers, Joe’s then right back to hers with a smirk, he shook his head and grabbed a jacket from the coat rack beside him. Oh fun.

“Y/n, my daughta! Who have you brought into my kingdom today man?” A loud off-key Jamaican accent fills the air as he pulls on an Atlanta Falcons bomber jacket.

Joe stifles a laugh as Venus’ face deadpans. “Joe, this is my father- don't take him seriously. Dad please.” 

The man raised a brow and smirked. “I know not of what I’ve done to earn this treatment oh! This man of anotha tribe threatens my position, I must take charge.”

Venus leans back with her arms crossed. “Did you and Malik watch Black Panther again? Cause your M’Baku impression isn’t any better, probably because you were raised in New York and not Wakanda.”

Her father shrugs and pulls her into a hug. “Maybe I just wanted to embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend, you know show him who’s boss around here.” He winks in Joe’s direction.

As he kisses her head, she pulls away and thumps him on the back of his. “Well, you’ve succeeded- with the first part! Everyone knows I’m the real boss around here.”

The old man snorts. “Yes, yes I know. She’s been bossing me around since she learned to walk, so I’m excited for someone else to take that place.” Making his daughter roll her eyes as he winks again.

“She does have a nook for making sure things go her way.” Joe chuckled.

Venus whirls around a smacks his arm. “You two are not supposed to be ganging up on me, you’re not even supposed to like each other right now.” 

Joe rubs his arm feigning an injury. “I can’t even play anymore, I should see a doctor.” 

While her dad punches the air. “Yes, finally a win for my Falcons. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long. I’d like to thank my wife for agreeing to go on that date with me, my daughter for injuring her star quarterback boyfriend-

Venus gapes at the dramatic men, then shakes her head and walks away. “I can not believe this is happening, he’s not even my boyfriend. How do I find these ridiculous people?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

After meeting the rest of Y/n’s family, Joe was finally able to shake some tension off his shoulders. For the past few days, all he could think about was this moment. Football he could practice, he knew the expectations on that field. But this, meeting the parents of the woman written all over his heart, was anxiety-inducing. No amount of preparation could prepare him for how it will all eventually go down. He hoped they’d be overjoyed and give him their blessing and by the way it’s going, he’s more than hopeful for this outcome. 

The plan leading up today today was she would catch a flight to Cincinnati Thursday night and then fly to Atlanta together the next evening. Nowhere in the plan did it say that Y/n could show up Tuesday night completely unprovoked and surprise him after he got back from practice. 

Even though they had been friends for years, he had never been so nervous to be around her for those 3 days. He tried to remain as calm and normal as possible; they joked around, cooked together, and shared the same bed as they normally would. 

Joe wasn't a total idiot, he knew their relationship was tiptoeing along the lines of something more. But after a year of helplessly pursuing her in college, he thought it’d be better if they were just friends. Eventually, he gave up on that idea altogether because, with the feelings he was harboring for her and Ja’Marr’s constant need to nag him about how dumb the situation was, the only one that needed convincing was her.

But this weekend was what he was playing the long game for, it’s his final chance to come clean about how he truly felt. And he hoped those feelings were reciprocated or the entire weekend would be a bust. And he definitely wouldn’t be playing the best tomorrow.

As soon as she left the room the temperature felt like it had been dialed to 100, Joe had never wished he had his headband so badly without being in the middle of a grueling practice. Her father gestured to the white couch behind him and they took a seat. 

“Your home is beautiful.” Joe starts as he’s trying to conceal his nervousness, but the constant wiping of his palms on his jeans tells another story. 

“Thank you, I assume Y/n told you that she hated it when we first got it.” Her dad chuckled trying to lighten the air. 

“Oh yeah, the whole moody middle school bit too.” He could only imagine what she was thinking about this interaction and how wrong it would be when it was revealed. 

“If someone had told me that kids didn’t like moving so close to their school, then maybe we wouldn't be here. But that’s not what I want to talk about and I doubt you’re here to hear about how much I don’t know my daughter.” The older man smirked.

“How’d you guess? But yeah, there’s something I felt would be best to talk about in person, if that’s okay with you, sir?” The quarterback clasps his hands together and straightens his spine.

“I thought so. How long have you been in love with her?” Joe’s eyes widen and his mouth dries as the gentleman relaxes his stance.

“F- shit sorry, wasn't expecting you to- wow um how did you know?”

The dad lets out a dry chuckle, “I’ve been in your spot before. I know what a hopeless man in love looks like and you didn’t take an eye off of her until she was completely out of your sight.”

“She seems to be the only one that hasn’t noticed it, but as cheesy as it sounds I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t in love with her. I’ve never been one to believe in myths like ‘love at first sight,’ but there’s no other way to describe it. I transferred to LSU for a fresh start, I just wanted to play football then when life finally started working out in my favor, she walked in. She’s funny, beautiful, smart, talented- the whole package. I’m kinda glad we didn’t date back then, I know it was only two years ago but I wasn’t ready for a woman like her.” He smiles fondly as the memories of them flash through his mind.

“And what about now, do you think you’re ready to start a relationship with my daughter that could potentially last a lifetime?” For the first time, Joe looks your father in his eyes with no fear or anxiety.

“Sir you don’t understand, I mean you do, but I’ve pictured Y/n as my future since we met. I grew up pretty well off, but I wanted to put in the work doing something I love so I could provide what I had for my future family. After a year in the league, there’s only one thing missing from my life, and it’s her. I mean I spent 3 days with her just in the house and I felt like I could do that for the rest of my life. I’ve known that she’s the one for me since we met, now all I need to do is finally tell her that.” 

The old man smiles as a few tears streak down his face, he wipes them away and then holds out his hand to the young quarterback. Joe takes his hand and gets pulled into a tight hug. “There’s nothing that makes me happier than when someone shows the same love and devotion to my little girl that I’ve been trying to show her for years. As long as you promise to keep a smile on her face and love in her heart, you have all the blessings in the world from me. Thank you, Joe.”

They let go with permanent grins on their faces. “No need for that, I’d do anything for her.”

“Good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”  

“So, you think she believes that we’ve been talking about ‘ball this whole time?” Joe joked.

“As long as she stayed out of this room, 100 percent. She’s clueless when it comes to it, so we could make up a term and she’d be convinced.” The men share a laugh before a head pops out of the kitchen.

“Hey, you guys hungry? Food’s ready. Let’s eat everyone!” Her mom announces.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

As the food is going around the table, Venus sneaks off to grab her purse. By the time everyone is settled, she clears her throat and stands next to her father. 

“So, I have something to tell you guys. No, I’m not pregnant, dating, engaged, married, or dying; before you start to conjure up some random assumptions.” She glared at Malik, her younger brother, who was holding in a laugh.

“First, I just want to thank everyone for coming. I know the last 2 years apart were hard but ‘time makes the heart grow fonder’ says some random dead guy.” Most of the table chuckles. “But seriously, I’m glad all my best friends could meet and hopefully talk about how much of an amazing person I am.”

“Venus keep talking and I’ll tell him all about how amazing you were in high school.” Mars smiles as the girl’s eyes slightly widen.

“Okay, as most of you should know, there’s this little game happening tomorrow. Nothing big or fancy, and I definitely didn’t bring one of the players to dinner, but I digress.” She shrugs extremely unbothered, causing her father and the quarterback to snort.

“Since I now hold the title of Assistant Physician Technician at Baton Rouge Clinic, I still have no money thanks to my glorious student loans. But y’all should still thank me for becoming best friends with some random football guys because everyone will be attending their first NFL game tomorrow night.” She cheesed fanning herself with their game day tickets.

Joe smirked as she sat down after handing over the passes. “Wow, and you said they were dramatic.” 

“Did you or did you not say that I was gonna be the main character when we walked in? I’m just doing your expectations justice.” Joe shook his head and draped his arm over her chair while pulling her a bit closer with his leg.

After dinner, all the women, except Venus per her mom’s request, help clean up the table and take the leftovers to the kitchen. 

“I don’t understand why we can’t drag Y/n over here to help.” Riana scoffs. 

Amina, Venus’s mom, shushes her and pulls the two girls into the empty dining room. “I’m having Malik distract her so we can talk about what is going on between my daughter and that footballer.”

The girls share the same knowing and scheming expression. “We may have an idea about that.” Mars starts.

“Yes, and what is it?” Amina crosses her arms.

Riana glances into the living room to make sure no one is eavesdropping, “ok they really are just friends right now, but we know that they have really strong feelings for each other. I came up with a plan to finally get V to do something about the tension and I’m very proud of it.” She smiles.

Mars rolls her eyes and rubs her temples. “Her plan is absolutely ridiculous, but we know it’s going to work because we’ve been friends long enough to know what makes that girl tick. So it involves his ex, a woman she hated more than anything when they were dating.”

The African mother nods but sucks her teeth, “why hasn’t she told me anything?”

“Cause you’re scary. Ow-” Mars elbows Riana before butting in. 

“She didn’t even want to tell us until we kinda forced it out of her. She doesn’t want to let herself revel in it for too long because she doesn't want to get her heart broken again.” She stretches the truth just a bit, the older woman did not need to know how their relationship actually worked. 

“That makes sense, ok go back out there.” The girls let out a much-needed breath as they were dismissed. “Wait, what do you mean again!”

Back in the living room, your brother is sitting on your dad’s armchair flipping through a photo album dedicated to your childhood. The three-seater next to him is now occupied by your mom and friends, while you and Joe are sharing a two-seater on the other side of the armchair. After learning the truth about you, your mom takes special notice of the fact that you’re sitting with your legs across Joe’s lap and one of his palms wrapped around your ankle.

“Oh look here’s a pic of Y/n trying to catch balloons while her pants are falling down.” Malik attempts to show J before you yank the book out of his hands.

“Ok, that’s enough, let’s put the album away now.” 

“Hey we were getting to the best part, I was in the next frame.” He fake pouts.

The scowl painted on your face causes him to break out into another laughing fit. “I despise you.”

“Come on babe, it wasn't that bad,” Joey smirks, then looks down at his phone. 

He just called me- which doesn't matter because you’re best friends duh. 

“Shi- it’s almost 7, we gotta go. I have to meet with Taylor in like an hour.”

“Why so late?”

“Who’s Taylor?”

“Taylor Swift?”

“A meeting past 5 pm is a criminal offense.”

“Y’all are so unbelievably nosy.” 

Joe throws his head back laughing. “I love your family, I don’t know why you didn't introduce us sooner.” Yea.. I definitely don't know.

“Zac Taylor’s his head coach. Remember there’s kind of a game tomorrow.”  

“Yeah and I may have ditched a meeting so we could drive up here,” J says sheepishly, once he’s done dying of laughter.

During his fit of laughter, some of his hair flung out of place giving him a more shaggy look. “You didn’t have to come if it was gonna get you in trouble.” Forgetting where you are for a moment, you begin to fluff out the front of his blond locks, then rake your fingers through the rest before settling on the back of his neck. 

His fond eyes meet yours. “I wanted to, plus you were just gonna make the trip yourself or end up ranting about not going while I’m trying to sleep?” 

You squinted and shrugged. “Touché.”

“Wait, you’re sharing a hotel room?” Your brother’s voice breaks you out of your bubble. When you look up, everyone’s eyes are glued to you. You’re now hyper-aware of your hand that’s been gently scratching his neck, your legs that somehow always end up in his lap, and the cautious hold he has on them. 

Removing yourself from his space, you begin to gather your stuff. “Um yeah, there was an empty spot that was already paid for and J offered me the bed.” 

There were no prepaid rooms left. 

“That’s very nice of you Joe.” Riana winked. 

A deep flush crept up his face, “It was nothing, what are friends for.” 

Mars beamed, “Exactly. He knows the real value of friendship. I mean look at him, breaking preset rules about boy-girl friendships.”

Your brows furrowed as you studied the two women. “Okay? We’re going to go now. Thank you for everything and I’ll see y'all tomorrow at the game.”

Your mother’s face brightened as you hugged then walked towards the door. Joe dapped up your dad and brother following your exit. “Thanks for the chat.” He smiled, then joined you in the rental. 

“That went really well.” You relax buckling your seatbelt

“Mhmm, told you you were anxious for no reason. Shit I was worried for no reason.” Joe says as he puts the car in reverse.

“You were anxious, really?”

He nods. “Oh yeah, more than you think.”

“Huh, I couldn’t tell. Hey if this NFL thing doesn’t work out maybe you should try acting. Today’s performance was outstanding.” You chuckled.

“Yeah absolutely not, I can barely do commercials and they want me to ‘be myself’ or whatever that means.” He shakes his head as your laughter bellows.

The ride back to the hotel was peaceful, the roads were clear, and the sky filled with stars, it was the perfect night. Until Joe’s phone started buzzing every 5 seconds. He tried to ignore it by listening to cars zooming by, but whoever it was really wanted his attention.  

He sighed. “Could you get that for me?” 

“You’re very popular tonight.” You snorted, then picked up the phone. Your face dimmed as you read the series of ‘I miss you’ texts all coming from the same number. It was unknown but you could tell they weren’t from some random fling. Your gaze was locked on each message, you could bet money on who they were from. She used to be obsessed with the idea of him. He gave her a chance for a few months, she started changing him into someone else. He stopped hanging out with you as often and-

“Who is it?” 

“If it’s Zac just tell him we’re on our way.” His words floated around unanswered. 

“Y/n?”

You broke out of your trance and looked over at the man driving before quickly turning your attention to the world outside the window, “it was nothing. Wrong number.”

The phone was placed on ‘do not disturb’ and forgotten about for the rest of the ride. 

The atmosphere in the car didn’t change from that moment, a perfect silence was replaced with a frigid one. You spaced out for the remainder of the ride, not wanting to show how it affected you. Joe noticed the odd silence but dismissed it as fatigue from the long day. Which it was, that could never ruin the comfortableness of their surroundings.

The car finally pulled into the Hilton valet entrance around 10, you unbuckled yourself then sunk into the seat. The late hour meant you had to wait for someone to come outside, in the meantime you attempted to lose yourself in the night sky. The antsy feeling bubbling under your skin was beginning to eat away your patience. Joe, finally able to get a good look at you, watched the way your knees bounced, the way your hands were picking at themselves and the lack of attention towards him.

“Ok what’s wrong, you were fine all night until you saw my phone. So what’s bothering you?” 

You scoffed, it’s just like guys to identify the problem not even realizing it was the problem. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Fine, if you aren’t going to talk then I will.” Your gaze was unwavering from the doors of the Hilton.

“Damn okay, look I feel like I’ve been trying to say this for the last two years, clearly I haven’t been very successful. Y/n I don’t like us being so far apart. I mean, location wise and relationship wise- yea. Fuck. Joe just do it.” Some part of you would’ve laughed at his inability to coherently express himself, but you couldn’t get past the irony.

“I really like you Y/n, I have for a long time and-

Shaking your head, you can’t help the words that start flying out, “bullshit. How can you say that when Megan or some random bitch is constantly blowing up your phone?”

“Megan? Y/n there’s nothing going on between us anymore, that ended over a year ago. You are the only woman I have feelings for, I don’t care about whoever’s in my DMs or calling me up.” As he went on the feelings of doubt still lingered.

“I somehow don’t believe that Joe, call me fucking insecure but if you wanted me to believe that you would’ve blocked the numbers. It’s like you wanted to know that they’ll always want you and you can go back whenever you want.” Your vision began to blur with unshed tears. You don’t believe the words falling from your lips, this has never been a problem between you. But this is more than just a fight with your best friend.

“I don’t know what I can do to convince you that you’re the only one I care about.” He huffed laying back in his seat. Then his eyes widen, “wait you wouldn’t feel this way if you didn’t also have feelings for me.” A bit of hope fills his chest.

“So what?” You finally meet his crystal blue eyes. “You clearly have other priorities, so let’s just leave it at that. I’m tired so let’s just talk tomorrow.” With that, you left the car and entered the hotel.

“Y/n! Wait!”

The next few minutes are a blur, the bellhop rushes past you to help with the bags as you hand the lady at the desk your ID. Once she hands you your key, you b-line to the elevator, not waiting for a second. By the time Joe gets to the desk, you’re already in the room.

The lady at the desk confirms his identity and reminds him of the meeting he has with Taylor, but all he can think about is how this night went so bad so fast. He takes the elevator to the 12th floor where both their room and the meeting are and enters the one cracked open while his bags are wheeled further down the hall.

“Well look who’s decided to grace us with his presence. You were supposed to be back over an hour ago.” His manager, Dan, presses.

Joe takes a seat at the opposite side of their round table and runs his fingers through his hair. “Shit happens, can we start now?”

Coach Taylor takes a note of his behavior and quickly runs through everything he needs to know. He lectures for a total of 20 minutes and answers questions for 10 before he runs out of material. The entire time Joe took the sloppiest notes of his life and couldn’t care less about what the chicken scratch said. “Well that’s it, any other comments, questions or concerns?”

“How do you make a girl listen to you?” 

That raises the older mens’ attention just as quickly as when he walked in.

Zac speaks up first, “in my experience you need to have something to say that’s worth listening to.”

“I told her that I love her.”

Dan’s eyes widened. “Y/n?” The player nodded.

“And she didn’t believe you?” He nodded again.

“What happened before you said it?”

“Nothing, she was quiet the entire ride but something changed during the last 10 minutes. I got some spam texts from an unknown number and she got awkward. Then when we got here she brought it up again, but it didn’t make sense. She had no reason to be upset.” He huffed.

The older men looked at him amused. “What?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Did you read what the messages said?”

He shrugged. “No, why would I?” 

“I don’t know man, maybe because she read them and got upset.” Zac pondered.

“Give me your phone.” He hands over the device per his manager’s request. The man quickly goes through the messages before putting the phone back in his eye line. “Read it, aloud.”

“I miss you….. Why was she replying? She doesn’t compare….leeching off you…taking advantage. What the fuck?” His brows knitted. 

“Now do you see why she was mad?” Dan smirked.

“Fuck, I need to fix this.” Joe gets up and marches towards the door. “Oh and thanks for the help. I’ve been saying that a lot today.”

By the time Joe enters the room, he’s got a full speech in his head that he's gone over several times and he’s prepared to unleash it immediately upon seeing you. Except there’s no trace of you in the room. Your bags are gone, your phone isn’t near a bed, neither of beds even look like they’ve been touched. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s no way I messed up for a third time.” 

He starts pacing the room. This was supposed to be his chance, this was going to be the story he tells the grandkids. They were supposed to hear about their great love story and carry on his legacy. But instead he’s going to die that weird uncle that’s obsessed with cartoons and UFC. 

He finally sits down in the chair next to your bed facing the downtown skyline replaying the day’s events in his head and completely ignoring the door next to his own.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The second you got to the room all you wanted was a hot shower to help relieve some of the stress and tension from the car. It only took about 5 minutes for the young bellhop to come to the door, you gave him his tip, grabbed your duffle and went straight to the bathroom. You oiled your scalp then placed a shower cap over your hair and spent 30 minutes underneath the boiling water. 

After doing your much needed self care routine, you left the bathroom steamy and with 40% less stress than before you started. You softly shut the door then turned around to see a figure sitting next to your bed.

“Joey?” He gets up and slowly turns around, the sight of his red eyes, tear stained cheeks and messy hair makes you crumble.

“Oh my god, what-

Before you could finish he takes a few long strides towards you and pulls you into him. “Baby what happened?”

“I can’t lose you again.” He croaked. “Y/n, it’s always been you. I love you more than anything. Nothing she said in those texts was true, I’d give you the world with everyone still on it. You’re my biggest supporter, you’re the only one that knows me on a deeper level than -fucking- myself. I don’t wanna go another minute without you knowing how much you mean to me, how much I fucking love you and how much I’d do anything just to make you smile. I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you. I just wanted it to be perfect, I wanted to have a story that would transcend galaxies. I-

“Joey!”

He finally stops and stares into your eyes. “I always loved how rich and glittery your eyes got when you’re in the light.”

What a goof.

You rolled those glittery eyes, pulled him down by his collar and crashed your lips against his. After the initial shock wears off, he returns it making you sink into his hold. His hands dig into the softness of your waist and your arms wrap around his neck with your fingers immediately finding their home scratching and running through his hair. His hands wander further down mapping every inch of your body before one softly grips the meat of your ass causing a ‘gasp’ to leave your lips giving him the opening to allow his tongue to explore more of your mouth. Your bodies rock together until your knees hit the edge of his bed and you fall into it without breaking apart your lips. He grabs a hold of your thighs and flips you over so you’re on top. A sharp tug at his roots releases a deep vibrating groan that causes flutters in your lower stomach. 

“Joey.” A whine finally breaks you from the heat of his mouth. You open your eyes to his dazed eyes and smiling bruised lips. “Yea?”

“I love you too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Main Masterlist

Taglist: @light-yagami-l

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A/N: As always: likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated and welcomed.

[toto-the-cactus]

Like the Primarchs, which of their daughters would be friends and which won't get along with their cousins?

I love this kind of asks because it gives me the chance to play a bit with these supposed daughters and the already existing OCs that other creators have.

In addition, these are the rightful creators of some of the OCs I used for this:

Garm: @candyswirls

Callahan: @jaghatai-khock

Lilith: @staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty

Medea and Cornix: @meangreennunseen

Olyssia: @thornsorcery

Kataryna: @thethronezone

If I missed any tagging let me know so I can correct it, yall uwu

-°-

First and probably the most predictable one have to be the daughters of Leman and Lion. Eireen is the dream child when it comes to discipline, duty and responsibilities but that left her with any social capacity stunted for life. It’s almost like any other astartes: put them out of their comfort zone (aka: war and battle) and they become completely clueless. Enter Garm here, who comes from a childhood where forming bonds is the norm among her family (tho not exactly in the most conventional way). They start off badly mostly because Garm's form of socializing involves roughhousing, biting and so on which, in Eireen’s eyes, looks mostly like taunting but worry not because as time passes, they get better mostly because the daughter of Lion finds on Garm both a strong supporting friend and someone that listen to her as herself and not some effigy of expectations put on her shoulders. It’s pretty much that meme of the “they asked for no PICKLES!”. Garm is the stronger and assertive personality of the two when socially speaking while Eireen is the “think before acting” voice between them which makes for the perfect combo to the absolute chagrin of Lion and the amusement of Leman and Callahan.

Funny enough, the most sociable of the daughters are two and one of them is none other than Mortarion’s daughter (which I will finally name as Bellis) and Horus’ daughter (Tahmina). The former because she has the personality of her mother and the last one because of her father. Bellis gets along practically with anyone and you’ll hardly see her being mean or outright hateful which makes her the perfect moderator with her other cousins that don’t get along that well. ‘Mina on the other hand is quite charismatic like her father and therefore knows how to get along flawlessly with her other cousins, tho she lacks the patience Bellis has so sometimes you can see her getting a bit more expressive on her annoyance when reaching her last nerve.

Medea (Magnus’ daughter) does try to get along with most of her cousins but you can’t win all battles. Being as much of a nerd as her father, sometimes she comes off as a ‘know-it-all’ by accident when just wanting to share information like any kid that found a new hyperfixation and that’s exactly why Daphne (Fulgrim’s daughter) is kinda abrasive towards her. It kinda gets better over time, but considering that Daphne grew up knowing the backstabbing tendencies that noble people have, she got a bit too many bad habits from them and she is always expecting the worse from others so that’s why she doesn’t let that many of her cousins to get that close to her.

Olyssia (Roboute’s daughter) gets along incredibly well with Medea mostly thanks to the rants they can get between each other. They would share their favorite books and get together to talk about them and do it again and again. It's kind of sweet and sometimes the parents of both girls would organize play dates even if they are too big for such things.

The children of Perturabo hardly get together with their cousins but the few instances they actually do, it’s a bit awkward being around them mostly because they work as a tight circle. The one usually speaking for her siblings as the ‘outside diplomat’ is Kleonike, who is the most pleasant of her siblings and the one that likes to meet more of her relatives. It’s not that much their fault since they were raised in a way that they could only count between each other and anyone outside their little siblinghood can be unwelcoming or even be weirded out by them. They grew up only being friends with their own siblings and never interacted with other children because of their father so they pretty much don’t feel comfortable having to socialize with their cousins too BUT! but when comfortable enough, you’ll see a few of them getting a bit chummy with those that share their same passions. Here a few of them per age order (oldest to younger):

Kleonike: gets along very well with both Medea, Olyssia, Daphne and Eireen. By default, likes to spend time for peace’s sake with Bellis or ‘Mina.

Melitta: the shy kid of her siblings. She rarely gets separated from her sister Charis, but in the rare instances she does, she is found around both Garm and Eireen. Loves her cousin Bellis as she is the one that teaches her about her passion for gardening. You’ll also see her doing some parallel play with Cornix (Corvus’ daughter) as they both rejoice in the comfort of having someone as company but… silently.

Charis: temperamental to a fault. She admires her papa so much that she wishes to emulate him (concerning) but she also has her siblings to reel back some of the bad personality traits that Perturabo had. Sadly, just because Perturabo said so, Charis doesn’t like Dorn’s children. It doesn’t matter that she never even started a conversation with any of them, she’ll just avoid them as much as possible. Over time, she’ll be forced to interact with them and eventually realize that they have a lot in common to the point where she gets flustered to admit that she considers them her friends too.

Maximus: as he became an astartes of his father’s legion, he rarely had any time to spend with anything resembling a friend that weren’t his sisters. Because of his really low self-esteem, I see this guy getting along pretty well with those that welcome him with everything and flaws such as ‘Mina, Bellis, Olyssia, Medea, etc. Probably not much with Garm and Eireen as both can be a bit too much for his quiet personality and Daphne can sometimes hurt with her words without realizing it. On the other hand, Cornix is probably his perfect match when trying to find a friend among his family.

Timo: too young to remember a lot of her cousins and the baby sister of all her siblings, so she is constantly being coddled by them.

Just like Bellis and ‘Mina, the daughter of Vulkan is quite the social butterfly. Loves spending time with all of her family but she gets particularly well with the children of Ferrus, as they share similar hobbies regarding blacksmithing. Funny enough is that she tries her best to make most of her cousins get along like your usual moderator but more often than not, she tries to include Kataryna (Konrad’s daughter) too to the social circle. You’ll always see her trying her best to be friends with her even if sometimes the dark humor of the mini Night Hunter gets a bit too much for her.

Kataryna had a hard time understanding social cues since at first the Primarch had quite the fear for anything bad to happen to his daughter, so developing proper ways to bonding with people were limited to her mother and father. She hit it off easily with Garm as roughhousing and biting are similar ways that she understood about socializing. Vulkan’s daughter is pretty much one of the few of her cousins that doesn't get too uncomfortable easily by her dark sense of humor and can withstand a ‘love bite’ from her without problem.

It’s expected that the children of Ferrus and Fulgrim would get along but ironically, they are so opposite from each other that eventually they fight more often than not. There aren’t a lot of things that the kids can share to have some peace, unlike the Primarchs that had a common ground when regarding their goal of achieving ‘Perfection’. That doesn’t happen with their kids, as they have too many diverting opinions about hobbies or, hell, even war strategies. (I’ll leave this one open for more interpretations so yall can put ideas here<3)

Lilith (Sanguinius’ daughter) does try to get along with plenty of her cousins and she’s good at it most of the time. The few times some of her relatives avoid her are mostly (as an example) Eireen, who simply has this animal sixth sense of perceiving nearby danger. Daphne, on the other hand, loves doing dress up with her cousin since she has the extra work that are her wings to get more creative with her attempts to make her look even more beautiful.

Angron’s daughter is a tough tooth among her relatives mostly for her own hard upbringing. It’s not like she lacked love, but she had a hard time understanding how to express that emotion when she only had her father and mother as examples of that. The one that gets her the best is Kataryna, only followed closely by Garm and Eireen. It’s kinda angsty but sometimes Eireen and Angron’s daughter bond over the trauma their parents have put them through. She doesn’t like Daphne mostly because she can’t find a common ground with her just like with Lilith and Olyssia. It’s not outright hate but simply that she feels uncomfortable among them, like a fish out of water.

Dorn’s daughter can be a bit more expressive than her father but at the end of the day, she also has a predilection for practicality. She likes spending time with the cousins that very much wouldn’t bring unnecessary drama or stress. Of course, that doesn’t mean she is outright rejecting those that wish to be amicable towards her. The perfect picture of a diplomat, probably even better than her cousin Kleonike (which is another match into the fuel that is Perturabo’s competitive ass). If this girl had someone ask her who she likes spending most time with, that would be Charis (share some similar hobbies) and Olyssia (loves discussing better ways to improve paperwork).

Alpharius and Omegon’s daughters are simply those twins in The Shining. Everyone is too unnerved to even get close to them.

-°-

'Bit late but here it is, yo!

Let me know if I missed some so I can add them later <333

Kisses!! Bye!

[brokenpieces-72]

Going Dark

COD Gangster AU

Navigation

Kate had met with her friend, Charlotte at the gathering. Her hope was to exchange what information she could with her while having another ear close by.

When Makarov gave his speech she’d gotten a text from Price.

“141 going Dark.”

Kate didn’t have time to try and help Farah, and there was too much risk in doing so. At least Alex had tried. Her main priority was you and getting you to safety. As soon as Charly noticed the text she left to get the car.

You sat in the backseat furiously texting Kyle and Johnny, praying for a response. You keep trying to refresh the messages, seeing how long it’s been since sending them.

“Ya alright back there love?” Charlotte asks from the front seat. Laswell is staring out the window, lost in thought in between text messages. You look up from your phone, and meet Charlotte’s eyes in the rear view mirror. You nod.

“Y-yeah. Fine.” You say, finally setting your phone screen down. Then you pick it up again and text Graves.

“What happened?! What did you do?!”

He texts back right away.

“Exactly as you told me to. We got em kid.”

You try to ask him what he means but your text won’t go through. He’s blocked your number.

Charlotte pulled into a parking lot and exits the vehicle with Laswell. While Laswell made her way to the old hotel building Charlotte opened the door for you, offering a hand. After everything you welcome the comfort of physical touch. Charlotte escorts you inside and you make your way up a few flights until you reach the honeymoon suite. Laswell knocks on the door.

“Watcher-1.” Laswell says, and the door opens. You go in with them and looks around eyes wide.

Alejandro is pacing, bruises blotting his face and arms. Simon is helping Rudy who is laying on ratty couch, getting makeshift stitches. Kyle and Soap are bandaging themselves, with a nasty wound on Soap’s arm and Kyle’s arm caked in blood. Price closes the door behind you.

“You said Graves would help.” He comments before anyone can say anything else. You go very very quiet. Price is staring you down. His face is blank but one word will change that. You don’t know what to say to him. Graves had fucked them over but surely something else was going on.

“I dont know what happened.” You say quickly.

Price shakes his head and steps further into the room while all you can do is stand there, frozen in place. You shouldn’t have told Graves, you shouldn’t have tried to help. Price doesn’t say anything and yet it feels like he’s saying everything. You just want it out.

“I don’t know what happened!” You repeat turning to look at Price.

“You told Graves. That’s what happened! Graves is not your father, he can’t do what he did!” Price tells you. Laswell tries stepping in and he raises a finger to stop her.

“No. Don’t defend them. They messed up, they take the fall.”

“I was trying to help!” You argue. “That’s all I’ve been doing!”

“You took a risk that was never your decision.”

“I got the cops involved so that something could actually be done, people could be put behind bars!”

“You’re not your father!” Price shouts. The entire room goes silent. You don’t have anything to say to that. The others don’t say anything either. No one defends you. No one argues with Price.

Then you notice red and blue lights. Your eyes widen. How could this get any worse? Graves was about to show you. Price looks at Kate and Charlotte who leave the room. The last thing Price wants is for the two of them to get into shit and lose their positions as high as they are. Alejandro curses in Spanish seeing the place is surrounded. There was no way out, but the cops weren’t looking for Charlotte and Laswell.

“Go with them.” Price orders you.

“I’m staying.” You say. You look at Soap and Gaz who look away to finish up their bandages. You know you’ve screwed up. Time to pay the price. Except you pay for it in a whole new way.

Graves opens the door and sees you. He looks relieved.

“Officer l/n. Well done.” He says approvingly. “You’re all under arrest.”

“Graves what the fuck?!” Soap barks, getting to his feet. You see more cops shuffling in behind Graves. You get between Graves and Soap.

“Soap leave it!” You tell him.

“You have some nerve Graves.” Price says.

Alejandro says something in Spanish again, as an officer approaches each one of your friends. Simon doesn’t put up a fight. He knows there’s risk in fighting back when they’re all injured, and while they had weapons, there didn’t need to be more blood shed.

“You did really good kid. Your dad would be proud.” Graves said patting you on the shoulder, raising his voice a little so everyone in the room can hear.

“What?” You ask.

“Seriously I don’t think even your dad could pull an undercover case like so well. Impressive.” Graves continues.

Soap looks at you with a look of anger and betrayal.

“You little shit.” Johnny says, looking you dead in the eyes. No. There was no way. What the fuck. You don’t know what to say. Before Johnny can do anything, he’s pinned to the closest wall and put in handcuffs. Kyle raises his hands, and Rudolfo is helped up. Alejandro is ignoring the Miranda rights and continuing to tell them off in Spanish. All you can do is stand there with Graves gently nudging you around so everyone can be escorted out. You stare at the ground unable to face anyone. You don’t know how to feel. You’re upset your friends are being arrested, you’re worried about what will happen to them, you’re pissed at Graves for what ever shit he was pulling, and… you were scared. Once everyone is outside, it’s just you and Graves.

He shuts the door instructing his officers to wait downstairs.

“What the fuck.” You say turning and facing him. Graves looks back at you with a stern expression.

“You did it kid good job.” He says.

“I didn’t do shit! You! This was all you!” You shout.

“Listen to m-“

“No! I’m done. I resigned! I left the force because I finally found something worth doing and the one second I trust you, you turn around a pull this shit!”

“I am trying to hel-“

“No! No you didn’t. If anything you’ve done the exact opposite of what I wanted. I’m not a cop, and I’m not my father! You fucked up and now you’ve pinned it on me.” You say and you leave the room slamming the door closed.

Once you get outside you catch sight of Price before the door is closed on him. It’s a look that haunts you, and is unreadable. A couple of officers come over to congratulate you on an excellent con. You shove past them and leave the scene. You don’t want to be there anymore. You just want to go home. Except you can’t go home. Your home just got piled into cars and taken to the police station.

So you return to your old apartment. You sit on the couch after getting yourself a beer. You don’t know what to do now. You’re pissed off and afraid. But you know there isn’t much you can do.

“You’re not your father.” Those words sting all night.

Graves returns to the police station where he sees a pleased Makarov. He gives a smug look to Makarov striding over to stand next to him.

“Officer Graves. Well done.” Makarov says with praise.

“Wish I could take the glory, but not me.” Graves says watching the 141 be taken to the holding cells. Makarov glances at Graves.

“Unfortunately we lost a few good officers thanks to undercover work… but I don’t think I need to tell you that.” Graves says giving Makarov a friendly nudge, before checking his watch.

“I better get going. I haven’t eaten anything all night, need to run a couple errands.”

“Who is responsible for bringing them in?” Makarov asks.

“Heh, believe it or not, the officer who resigned. Kid can do a long con.” Graves says, before leaving the station. Makarov looks toward the holding cells. A bit of time and it would hardly be an issue. This kid would certainly be an issue, but something to worry about later.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and he wants you to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, Angst,Fluff,Eventual Smut,Hurt, Comfort,MMF dynamics. General warnings for each chapter. Anything sensitive will be added to individual chapters.

WK-5.5K

A/N-This starts out angsty but I don’t write sad endings so keep that in mind going forward. Reader has a best friend very near and dear to my heart.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter I

Dave looks over the file on his desk again before he makes the call. He reviewed it the night before and was going to contact the client until he realized not everyone holds the same weird hours as he does. Insomnia. 

  He takes a sip of his coffee as he dials the number with a Florida area code. At least he would get to enjoy some nice weather this time. The last soulmate he tracked down mid winter lived in Buffalo New York, he wasted weeks trying to find him only to find out he was happily married and had no intention of leaving his current wife. The woman who hired him was devastated but…devastated doesn’t pay the bills so she was out twenty grand, and went back to being single a few states over. 

  They don’t always end in misery but he’s used to it now. He wonders why he still does it, maybe helping these people will erase the thought of killing someone’s soulmate when he’s contracted for his other job. He can’t think about that one too much. 

  “Hello Santiago speaking.” Dave glances down at the file once more to be sure. 

  “Ugh yes I’m Dave York calling to reach Francisco Morales?” He hears a low curse on the other end and some apologies. 

  “Oh ya, just give me a second.” He can hear ruffling and the sound of a sliding door. My patience is already wearing thin. 

  “Thanks for returning my call. I’m actually hiring you on behalf of my friend Francisco.” 

  This wouldn’t be the first time he was contracted to find someone’s soulmate because some friend or family member couldn’t keep their nose where it belonged. There would most certainly be drama and resistance. Two things Dave did not handle well. 

  “That’s very generous of you. Is Francisco eager to find his soulmate?” 

  “He ugh…well…yes, yes he is.” Fat chance

  “I would need to meet him of course to go through with this, you understand?” 

  “Of course, that won’t be a problem at all. I sent you the details of when and where we can meet and provided you with the deposit.” At least he means business, either way Dave doesn’t care about the in’s and outs of why people do it. He knows it’s important… or at least he did. 

  He finishes going over the rules with Santiago that will hopefully get relaid to Frankie. He’ll find your soulmate and set up a meeting. If the person does not wish to pursue the relationship he will relay that to you to avoid any in person embarrassment. No stalking or harassment involved. If he can’t find them within 30 days you get your money back. 

  Some people frowned upon what he did. Purists thought you should meet your soulmate organically. They were rarely alone for more than a few years before they found theirs so he didn’t like listening to what they had to say. 

  He wasted years trying to find his love. When he did find her…it was already too late. Those six months were the best and worst of his life. Knowing he’s found his soulmate and gets to spend every waking moment with her only to have it ripped from his grasp. 

  If he had to spend the rest of his tortured life helping others not waste time then he would. 

  ****

  Why the hell did Will make them wear bow ties? This must be Amanda’s suggestion, there’s no way he decided they should all be this uncomfortable on his wedding day. 

  Frankie looks over at Ben and Will having some brotherly talk as if the younger miller has some wise words of advice having been married for all of six months. He loved rubbing it in that he was able to tie the knot before the rest of them of course excluding Tom who got married years ago when they were all in basic. 

  He tries really hard not to be bitter on these days but he can’t help himself. Of course he ran that risk when he married someone who was not his soulmate. He loved Sophia so much it didn’t matter to him. It’s worked out for plenty of other people and it worked for him…until it didn’t. 

  He didn’t try very hard to find his soulmate. Between being in the military, not being able to put down roots for so long and the fact that his soulmate probably hated him for all his scars and tattoos he can’t say he put much of an effort into finding them. 

  The hummingbird tattoo on his wrist practically taunted him his entire marriage. He pretended he didn’t care and so did she. She always told him they would try for kids when she was ready and he never pushed. He thought she was finally ready when she told him they needed to talk. Never in a million years did he expect her to say she found her soulmate and she was leaving him. 

  Their baby boy should be a year old by now, Sophia was pregnant within a month of the divorce being finalized. This was information Santiago insisted despite the others protests that he needed to know so that he could move on. 

  He can’t put the blame all on her. He left for Colombia to bring home money so they could start a family and he came home with nothing but news that her best friend's husband was dead. 

  It must be some kind of fucked up karma that they went back for the money and now he’s alone. If he’s really being honest with himself, he knows they never really loved each other. It was convenient for both of them. Frankie doesn’t like being honest with himself so he'd rather continue on painting her as the villain in his story. 

  “Hermano, you need some help with that tie.” Santiago starts fidgeting before he can even answer no. He slaps his hands away and Santi backs away with his hands up in surrender. 

  “Why are you being so nice?” 

  “I’m always nice.” Frankie scoffs at that. Santiago was never nice unless he wanted something from you. 

  “You picked up my tux, gave me a ride here and now you’re offering to fix my tie?!” He gives him a look and Santi knows it’s only a matter of time. 

  “I have a surprise for you.” He resumes fixing his tie despite Frankie’s protests. 

  “The last time you surprised me someone died.” Santi clears his throat but doesn’t protest, it must be bad. 

  “I hired a PI to find your soulmate.” That last part is rushed out but Frankie hears him clear as day. 

  He shoves him back a few steps which draws the attention of Ben and Will. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

  “Chill out Fish, what’s your problem?” Ben steps between the two of them as Frankie looks as though he could spit fire. 

  “I told him about the PI.” Ben whips around to Santi. 

  “I thought we were gonna wait until tomorrow.” Frankie looks over at Will in disbelief. 

  “You fucking knew about this?” He can see it in their eyes and how no one will look at him directly.

  “Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’m getting married in an hour.” 

  Sure he’ll talk tomorrow, they can all talk about staying out of his life and meddling in his business. Pope can call off the PI and they can all go back to being happy with their soulmates and Santiago can go fuck off somewhere in another country as he always does, leaving Frankie to mope alone with his thoughts. 

  “Ya we’ll talk tomorrow.” Ben comes over to fix his tie and Frankie clenches his fists at his side. 

  This is going to be a long day. 

  ****

  The new Mr.& Mrs. Miller do look very in love on the dance floor as Frankie enjoys his second piece of cake. Cake never betrayed him…his ex wife and his best friends maybe but never cake. 

  Ben dips his wife and it sorely reminds him of his wedding day when he and Sophia ended up with calloused feet from dancing all night. 

  His chest tightens at the sight of Molly dancing with her girls. She stayed so strong through it all and she looks so happy, maybe it’s just a front or maybe she’s choosing not to be a miserable sap like him. She lost her soulmate and never once judged them for what they did. She knew how Tom could be. Frankie doesn’t know how someone could treat their soulmate the way Tom treated Molly. He’s better off alone than with a soulmate who doesn’t love him back. 

  Santiago makes his way over to the table and gestures to the seat next to Frankie. He nods his head for him to sit down while he watches the dance floor. They sit in silence for a moment and Frankie thinks about how selfish he is for being so petulant about the whole thing. 

  Santiago never cared about finding his soulmate, maybe because of their line of work or maybe it was the nature of his being. He’ll never forget the look on his face when his tattoo’s disappeared. He told the guys it was fine but they could hear him trying to muffle his cries in his bunk. 

  “I’ll do it Pope.” Santiago looks at him with a mixture of shock and excitement. 

  “I came ready for an argument.” He slides Frankie’s plate closer to him to steal a bite of cake. “We meet him tomorrow.” 

  “Jesus what if I said no?” Frankie slides the plate back to himself, not ready to let go of his precious dessert. 

  “You might want to lay off the cake if you’re going to meet your soulmate soon.” Frankie flips him off as Santi grabs the plate and saunters off to the dance floor. 

  ****

  Dave’s always early to meet a client, but never this early. He couldn’t find a lot of information on Francisco Morales but he did find out he was Delta Force and so was the man that hired him on his behalf. He always met potential clients in a public place of their choosing to get an idea of who they are. There's no doubt in his mind that this coffee shop holds no significance to the two men and will most certainly not help him figure out anything about Francisco. 

  He knows it’s their military training that they will never seem to break free from. It doesn’t make it easy for your soulmate to find you when you're as mysterious as Francisco Morales. No social media, no parking tickets, no convictions. A minor hiccup with his pilot's license but his record was scrubbed clean a few years ago. It takes a lot of money to completely wipe your record. 

  Their trip to Colombia wasn’t as off the books as they thought. With Dave’s connections he can find out a lot more about the average person than they think. It’s true he is paid to find your soulmate but he has a duty to uphold to not put said person in harm's way. Frankie’s sketchy past and interesting finances make him a little wary to just introduce him to the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He doesn’t know the circumstances behind his wife leaving him and that also has his guard up. Who just up and leaves after 8 years? 

  He pauses his thoughts momentarily as he notices an old Jeep pull into the parking lot of the cafe. He hasn’t seen a Jeep like that in years. His suspicions are correct when two men around his age step out. Still relatively in military shape, the shorter of the two in a black t-shirt much too tight for him and black jeans. The taller one in an open flannel and blue jeans donning a dirty cap and aviators…that must be Francisco. 

  They both survey the area as if it’s their first time here and that confirms his other notion that these men wanted to meet somewhere not near their home. Probably thirty minutes to an hour outside of where they actually live if he would guess. Fifteen minutes early to be safe but still not earlier than him. 

  “I should’ve worn something nicer.” Frankie smooths his hands down the front of his worn flannel as they approach the coffee shop. This was his nice flannel but maybe he could’ve taken an iron to it or something. 

  “Relax hermano, he didn’t bring your soulmate to the meeting.” 

  “You vetted this guy?” Frankie couldn’t find much information on David York, which worried him a little. 

  “As much as I could.” Frankie holds the door open for Santiago as they enter and head straight for the counter. Coffee is much needed after imbibing too much at the wedding. He’s grateful in hindsight that he chose this location just outside of town. 

  “Corner,black suit.” 

  Frankie glances up, hopefully shielded by his sunglasses. “He looks smug.” 

  “Don’t start.” Santi hisses under his breath as he steps up to place their order. “ Two black coffees please.” 

  Best case scenario, this guy finds his soulmate and Frankie can’t even wrap his head around what he would do with that information. It scares him to even think about it. 

  Worst case scenario, Pope is out some money that he didn’t ask him to spend in the first place and he can go back to whatever semblance of a life he was living before all this. 

  Way to be positive Frankie

  ****

  Introductions are awkward to say the least. Frankie and Santi seated at the small cafe table across from Dave who has set a notepad down next to his small coffee. The silence is deafening as he scribbled down a few things after giving them a once over. 

  “So I’m sure you have some questions for me. If you don’t mind holding those until I’ve gone over everything.” He’s not really asking and Frankie already had his hackles up at the grim outlook of the man in front of him. 

  He always hated ‘suits’ . This guy is obviously ex-government and he’s not really sure how someone like him ended up in the line of work of finding someone’s soulmate. Besides the obvious monetary aspect there is a lot of love and emotion involved and the man seated before him doesn’t strike him as the romantic type. 

  “Why did you decide to hire me to find your soulmate?” I didn’t hire you. Frankie looks over at Santiago hoping he’ll help him out a little. 

  “Well ugh…I actually didn’t.” Dave raises his eyebrows at that but lets him continue. “My friend here was kind enough to give me a push in the right direction.” After too many drinks and a lot of talking he reconciled with Santi that this was something he should at least try to pursue. 

  Everything seems pretty straightforward once he starts going over his normal way of doing things. Frankie understands after the initial round of uncomfortable questions that Dave needs to make sure he’s not some weirdo. He opted to return a few peoples initial deposit upon meeting them and not deeming them safe enough or sane enough to track down their soulmate and uproot their lives. 

  Frankie’s thankful he doesn’t pry too much into his reason for divorcing. Dave mostly wanted to make sure that he was not still legally married because he won’t set anyone up for heartbreak. 

  Dave has a thirty day guarantee, if he doesn’t find them in that time frame you get a full refund. Frankie is a little shocked at his confidence. People spend their entire lives trying to find their soulmate and he can somehow guarantee it. 

  “So, now that I’ve gone over all the logistics. Do you have any questions for me?” Frankie looks to Santiago who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this meeting. Maybe out of courtesy for Frankie or perhaps he’s sizing him up. Either way, Frankie really only has one thing he is curious about. 

  “Why do you do it?” 

  Dave takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It’s pretty bad if he’s being honest but he needs a moment. He always needs a moment when this question is brought up. It’s usually one of the only questions he hates answering. Truthfully answering would require to let people in ‘strangers’. 

  These same strangers trust him enough to do this so as uncomfortable as it is he provides enough of an answer to suit both parties. 

  “I hate to say that it pays well, but I have to state the obvious.” For the first time during the meeting Frankie can see his hard exterior crack a little. The first time where he seems nervous and unsure of what he’s going to say. 

  “Also…I wish I had met my wife sooner. I may have had more time with her.” 

  Santiago excuses himself from the table. He doesn’t do well with emotions. Frankie knows that probably stung a little. He’s not sure if it’s worse that Santi never got to meet them or if meeting them briefly makes it all that more painful. 

  “I appreciate your honesty Dave.” He sends him a tight lip smile that doesn’t meet the eyes. 

  “If that’s all you have for me I’ll be in touch in the next few days hopefully with an update.” 

  Frankie shakes his hand, a firm handshake he notes to himself. Dave has a nice build, he’s not sure why he makes a note of that as well. 

  Frankie finished the rest of his coffee and headed outside. Santi leans against the back of the Jeep scrolling idly on his phone. He looks up at him but says nothing as they both get in, Frankie in the driver's seat. 

  “I just needed some air.” Santiago looks out the passenger window seemingly fixated on the passing cars. 

  “I know hermano.” He doesn’t need to say anything more. 

  Neither of them speak for a while, too many thoughts on their minds as they ponder the meeting and what all of it means. Seeing Santiago still struggling with losing his soulmate makes Frankie want to give this his all. 

  ****

  Santi can’t shake the thought of Dave doing all this because he didn’t have enough time with his soulmate. At least he got to spend some time with them. He's lied to himself all these years after his tattoos and scars of his soulmate were long gone. This was not about him though, this is about helping his friend move on and be happy. That’s all he wants for them after the chaos he caused in Colombia. He has to make things right for him. Frankie may not see it as his fault but Santiago can’t help but think maybe Sophia would’ve stayed if things hadn’t gone so poorly. 

  Santiago would never know that things started to sour in their relationship long before that Ill fated trip to steal someone else’s money. 

  Frankie was the one who had it all together. A real job he could be proud of , a wife he loved , a house for their future family. Things quickly fell apart for him after they returned and he was no longer the one that they looked to for guidance. 

  Santiago made it his mission to help Frankie get back on his feet after they went back for the money. Frankie got his license back, he bought a home that didn’t remind him of all his memories with his ex wife, now all he needed to do was find love. 

  Santi rubs his hands across his jeans trying to shake himself from the trance. Frankie eyes him cautiously from the driver’s seat. 

  Santiago leans forward to turn the radio down. “So how are you feeling about all this?” 

  “Considering he has a guarantee, a little better than I felt going in.” 

  He doesn't want to get his hopes up too much but he’s starting to get that feeling like things may be taking a turn for the better. 

  Frankie pulls up to Santi’s house and puts the car in park. 

  “I know what you’re gonna say, I’ll be fine I promise and I’ll call you later after I sleep off this hangover.” Frankie smiles at that,Santiago only lets a select few into his world and he won’t push it any further. 

  “I just want to say thanks Pope. This really means a lot.” Santi waves him off and hops out, he knows how much it means but he’s not gonna get any more emotions out of this day. 

  “Love you hermano, this time next year we’ll be planning your wedding.” Santi calls out over his shoulder before he enters his house. Frankie wants to roll his eyes at that but he secretly hopes that he’s right. 

  ****

  “Alicia! We’re gonna be late.” You stand in your bedroom in front of the floor length mirror putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The modest yellow sundress and strappy heels you bought ages ago are finally getting some use. 

  “I can’t decide on what to wear.” You faintly hear her yell from her bedroom. 

  You’re not particularly excited about this singles event she signed you up for but you certainly didn’t want to walk in late and have all eyes on you. She’s your best friend so you agreed to accompany her on one of her many schemes to get you back on the dating scene. 

  You cross the hall to her room and find a mountain of clothes on her bed and more clothes flying out of her closet. 

  “Let me see what you’re wearing.” She emerges from her closet in a slinky black dress to match her long black hair. She was a bombshell in anything she wore so you aren’t sure what the hold up is. 

  “Alicia that looks hot, wear that.” She gives herself a once over in the mirror as she smooths her hands down the front. 

  “You don’t think this is sending the wrong message?” 

  “Babe you said yourself you need to get laid.” You glance down at the time on your phone. “Shit we’re gonna be really late.”

  “You’re right, I did say that. Thanks for talking me off a ledge.” She grabs her phone from the nightstand as you follow her out of the room. 

  “You’re gonna need to pretend my room is yours if you bring someone home though.” You gesture towards the disaster she left on her bed. 

  She turns to you, grabbing your face and kissing your forehead. “Only a true friend would let me defile her bed for the sake of a hookup.”

  You laugh as you shoo her along out the door. “That’s what friends are for.”

  ****

  The bad news, you were indeed late. The good news is no one seems to notice as you both enter the hotel lounge for the event. Everyone is talking and mingling amongst themselves so you and Alicia have an opportunity to grab a drink and settle in. 

  You haven’t been on a proper date in years so she thought this would be a nice way to ease back into things. No pressure or obligations and no awkward first date etiquette. People were just here to simply talk and get to know each other. If you made a connection that was great but if you just didn’t like someone then there were no hard feelings. 

  “Cute guy at twelve o'clock is checking you out.” You try to do a subtle scan of the room as you sip your fruity drink. 

  “Alicia I don’t know what that means…Wait how do you know he wasn’t checking you out?” She steps in front of you to slightly block your view. 

  “He’s in the gray button down on my right .” She half whispers as she attempts a head nod. “Do you see him?” 

  “Oh shit he’s coming over here.” You both do your best worst to act casual as a tall and very attractive…distractingly attractive man walks over. 

  “I do have to say yellow is definitely your color.” 

  “Told you.” Alicia says under her breath as she leaves you at the bar with this stranger. 

  You thank him politely for his compliment and introduce yourself as you try to ignore the lewd gestures your best friend is making with her hands behind his back. Thankfully she’s interrupted by a man with a tap on her shoulder. He’s noticeably not the type she goes for. He’s much too tall for her…she prefers to tower over her love interests ‘it makes me feel powerful’ in her words. 

  Jeff was nice enough as he engaged you in conversation. He mostly droned on about his job in finance and his hobbies, his five year goals and now come to think of it…you didn’t really get a chance to talk about yourself. He excused himself from the conversation when he saw someone he knew in the crowd, leaving you in your comfortable silence once again. 

  Your moment of reprieve is short lived when a woman approaches you. You actually enjoy talking to her and you can tell she’s listening intently. She’s beautiful, funny and smart. Perhaps another time you would be interested but she mentioned she just got out of a long term relationship and you don’t have the energy to be someone’s rebound. You’ve spent years repairing your broken heart and if this is your one attempt at trying to find love again it just wouldn’t be fair to either of you. 

  You still exchanged numbers after she’d said how nice it was to meet you. Your eyes immediately find Alicia’s across the room with a man who could be her grandfather. He doesn’t seem to notice her look of save me etched across her face. You take this moment to tease her a bit, making the same hand motions she did earlier. An older woman looks on in shock when you realize a little too late that you’ve caught the attention of others in the room. 

  After offering an apologetic smile, you gather yourself and join her across the room. 

  “Sorry to interrupt, Alicia, can I borrow you for a moment.”

   She loops her arm in yours pulling you close to her side. “It was nice to meet you Irving.”

  “The pleasure is all mine dear.” He takes her free hand, planting a sloppy wet kiss on the top. You bite your cheek to stifle a laugh as she waves him off. You can feel her eyes on you as you exit the lounge. 

  If looks could kill you’d be a goner. 

  “Irving seemed nice.”

  “Shut up.” 

  You both burst into a fit of giggles as you make it safely to the hotel lobby out of sight of anyone trying to vy for your attention. 

  These were the moments you lived for with your best friend. The reason you were able to get back on your feet when you moved across the country to start your life over. She took you in like a stray cat, no questions asked when you replied to her ad looking for a roommate. You didn’t find out until later on that she didn’t need the money, she just hated living alone. 

  She came from a wealthy family and traveled the world before settling in Naples Florida. She never had a soulmate…it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to go their entire lives without so much as a mark or tattoo. It makes you wonder if the universe chooses at random or if people are destined for that path. She is such a free spirit it almost makes sense why she can’t be tied down to just one person. Her biggest problem is making sure her current interests aren't only after her for money. 

  “So…what’s the plan for the rest of the evening babe?” You both step out still arm in arm. It’s a beautiful sunset starting just over the tops of the buildings downtown. You could walk down to the beach or drab a drink at another bar. 

  You can feel your dress starting to cling to your back from the humidity and you made a huge mistake wearing heels that weren’t broken in yet. Alicia looks at you and then pulls out her phone to call a car to come get you. “Let’s go home and eat ice cream while we discuss what a train wreck that was.” 

  You let out a sigh of relief as you push back trying to stand on the heels of your feet. “That sounds like a perfect night.” 

  ****

  “At one point he actually took his dentures out to show me.” Alicia buries her head in the pillow as you make a disgusted face. 

  “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” You’re laughing to the point of a stomach ache. 

  “Ya, you sound really sorry.” She throws the pillow at you on the other end of the couch. “So tell me about the girl. You were talking to her for a while.” She raises one eyebrow at you as she reaches down to the coffee table for the carton of rocky road. 

  “She was nice.” You lean forward grabbing the carton from her hands. “She was more than nice actually…but she just got out of a serious relationship.” 

  “Ugh…no one wants to be a rebound.” 

  Your thoughts exactly. 

  You swear sometimes you share a brain, or maybe you have just spent so much time with each other that you can’t help but think alike. 

  “I’m glad we went, I needed to break the ice. It’s not like the love of my life is gonna waltz into the record store.” You loved your job, you always had a love for music. There was something so special about the medium of records standing the test of time. That’s the kind of love you wanted. 

  “Let’s just marry each other if this dating thing doesn’t work out.” She holds out her pinky as you wrap yours around hers. 

  “Deal.” 

  “Deal.” 

  You raise from the couch gathering your plush blankets. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, love you leesh.” 

  “Love you too hon’, get some sleep.”

  ****

  Sleep

  That was a joke in its own right. The problem with having anxiety is the one time where your brain should quiet down is when it wants to be the most active. 

  You brush your thumb along the etched roses on your ring finger. It’s such a fine and delicate tattoo, the line work is beautiful and the stem of it perfectly curls around coming to a point at the end of your finger. 

  You hate to assume, but it’s always felt feminine in nature. It doesn’t seem like a drunken mistake or a rushed decision. The tattoo feels intentional. You had a lot of tattoos in a short amount of time when you were in college. These tattoos were overtly masculine. A small Blackhawk tattoo on your left wrist, almost mirroring your hummingbird. A gun of some kind on your left ankle…you weren’t familiar with firearms. A tiny elephant on the inside of your left thigh, by far the most adorable of the set. 

  In short succession they all adorned your body before you graduated from the California Institute of the Arts with a minor in arts management and a major in music history. Your step mother always said it was a waste and your father couldn’t be bothered to defend you. Your mother would have been proud though. 

  It was years before the roses showed up on your finger one beautiful spring day. It was so unlike the others it turned your world upside down. 

  The reason you moved across the country to escape the control and the pressure of someone who couldn’t love you with those scars and tattoos. Resenting you more and more each day knowing that you belonged to someone else. 

  It’s those thoughts that keep you up at night. The nightmares and horrible things that only your mind thinks up. As much as you try to push those thoughts away, you know deep down someone is out there. Made for you. 

  We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses. 

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[mirrorball-leclerc]

track 001. logical

─── ❝ said i was too young, i was too soft. can't take a joke, can't get you off. oh, why do i do this? ❞ ───

masterlist // next

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, isabellaperez, and others

zoyatorres a while back i heard a beautiful piano piece composed by charles_leclerc. i adored the way he was able to compose such emotional pieces. i asked a friend to reach out to him and ask if he wanted to be apart of my next album. he agreed and he composed a couple pieces on my new album, GUTS, which is yours september 8th. for now, enjoy logical, an emotional song which captures exactly what i was feeling in that moment thanks to charles. and to isabellaperez, the only other person to understand my emotions, thank you for inspiring me to write this one. once again, grazie charles! gracias isabella! (ps enjoy these bts picture of me and charles as logical was being written) (pps isabella helped inspire a few of the songs on this album)

tagged: charles_leclerc, isabellaperez

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landonorris um…what the fuck? charles? isabella? why wasn’t i informed of this?

baileywinters you’re welcome people! i did this! i got this masterpiece out into the world!

↳ landonorris et tú, brute?

↳ baileywinters sorry babe but i was sworn to secrecy!

user01 is this not some sort of betrayal to mae? after everything that went down between the two.

↳ maejones not really considering zoya and i are on good terms. i also have a boyfriend, i've moved on, everyone else should too.

↳ charles_leclerc i spoke to mae before i said yes to this opportunity. if she said she was uncomfortable with me doing this i would've said no.

↳ zoyatorres as mae said, everyone involved in that situation has moved on, please do us all a favor and move on.

user02 i just know this song is going to break my heart in two and i haven't even heard it

charles_leclerc it was a pleasure working with you zoya! we should do it again sometime.

↳ zoyatorres get me a pass to the next grand prix and we’ll see

↳ charles_leclerc done! see you in miami!

↳ zoyatorres pleasure doing business with you mr. leclerc

isabellaperez thanks for letting me vent to you!

↳ zoyatorres those vents became beautiful songs isabella! so thank you to you and your wonderful brain!

user03 now this is a crossover i wasn't expecting

nataliaruiz oh thank god, i was going to lose it if i had to keep this a secret any longer.

maejones well that was emotional…i’m gonna go drown myself with a toaster

↳ maxverstappen1 no, you won’t. actually please don’t.

↳ rowantodd no one wants to deal with a grumpy max, please don't ever joke about that again. your sister is also pouting at her phone, please, don't make those jokes again.

nataliaruiz posted a new story

seen by charles_leclerc, zoyatorres, logansargeant and others

some more bts of the making of logical. zoya’s my favorite third wheel, she’s basically charles and i’s child now. freyavettel you have a sister now.

zoyatorres mom? nataliaruiz yes my child?

charles_leclerc she is not our child nataliaruiz too late the adoption papers have been filed with seb, maman leclerc approved it too and she practically lives with us chérie

pierregasly another one? isn't the one on the way enough? isn’t freya enough? nataliaruiz shut up, you tripod

arthur_leclerc another niece? you can't give me a nephew? nataliaruiz the universe has decided that charles is meant to be a girl dad. it told me so when it gave us freya as a first child and zoya as a second and our baby as the third arthur_leclerc freya and zoya aren't actually your children nat nataliaruiz and lando isn't carlos and penny's kid but they treat him like he is. we all have emotional support children, don't question me. arthur_leclerc alright fine.

natalia ruiz added one person

natalia ruiz meet my child zoya!

zoya torres is that fernando alonso in the picture?

freya vettel blackmail material from lance, so yes it’s nando

bailey winters lando’s been screaming logical for the past 20 minutes. make it stop please

lando norris i can’t believe you guys wouldn’t tell us about this! isa and i played sour on repeat for days!

daphne jones-ricciardo trust us, we remember

zoya torres holy shit. excuse me while i go scream in a pillow.

daniel jones-ricciardo she’s just like me. daph! she’s our child! natalia ruiz back the fuck up aussie, that is my second child with charles! pierre gasly you have an actual child together and she's met daphne before hasn't she? zoya torres i don't actually have her number. let me have this. god, the french ruin everything oscar piastri she's going to fit right in with us

logan sargeant on a completely different topic, who hurt zoya and charles? that is the saddest song i’ve heard all year and speak now (daphne’s version) was released a few days ago. i don’t need to ask about isa, we all know the answer to that.

george russell can’t believe i’m agreeing with an american but who hurt you two?

logan sargeant at least our queen is still alive mae jones we don’t have a queen? we are a democracy. florida has failed us once again. logan sargeant i was talking about your sister… rowan todd he’s got you there mae, all rise for our national anthem, death by a thousand cuts penelope trevino HALF OF YOU DIPSHITS LIVE IN MONACO! zoya torres can't believe i just met a bunch of tax evaders

natalia ruiz you literally just moved to monaco zoya. you are a tax evader now.

zoya torres it’s to be closer to my favorite leclerc, baby leclerc. arthur’s been bumped down to last arthur leclerc well fuck you, as if i wasn’t already. you’re my least favorite singer in this group.

esteban ocon everytime i open this groupchat up i worry for each and every single one of you

mick schumacher i agree with the french

logan sargeant history has proven that it has never happened. so this is a first lando norris enough with the history jokes dulce perez just because you can’t understand them doesn’t mean we have to stop

zoya torres to answer logan's question, my ex-boyfriend hurt me.

natalia ruiz we don't talk about that asshole alex albon just to clarify, we're not talking about joshua are we? zoya torres no, that's passed, we're friends now. i think?

max verstappen why the fuck is lando running around the hotel screaming?

max verstappen never mind i see now. hello zoya.

zoya torres hi max! charles leclerc YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER? zoya torres i had breakfast with mae and max once

lewis hamilton it’s a great song guys!

zoya torres what if i passed out right now? what if this was my 13th reason? all i ever needed was to make sir lewis hamilton proud. oscar piastri oh god, she’s just like logan dulce perez i worry for you people, i truly do.

isabella perez THAT BRIDGE? CAN'T BELIEVE I HELPED COME UP WITH THAT!

dulce perez with an ex like austin how could you not? isabella perez do you maybe, want to shut the fuck up?

liked by charles_leclerc, nataliaruiz, maejones

zoyatorres mom said we had to come support dad in miami! peep my three different outfits (it was very hot for two of them, yes i did steal a helmet for a picture) don’t mom and baby leclerc look so cute? (i took that picture while we were waiting for mick and freya)

tagged: nataliaruiz, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari

user1 love how she opted to post a cute picture of natalia while embarrassing charles

↳ zoyatorres mom should never be embarrassed. dad on the other hand…

charles_leclerc i invited you to a grand prix and this is the payment i receive? (send me that picture of natti please?)

↳ zoyatorres will do father 🫡

scuderiaferrari it was an honor to have you in our garage (free concert tickets soon?)

↳ zoyatorres anything for my favorite admin

maejones did you enjoy your first ever grand prix?

↳ zoyatorres you bet i did! who knew watching cars go really fast in odd circles could be fun! baby leclerc made it more fun!

user2 i love that she’s been adopted into this family of weirdos so quickly.

↳ nataliaruiz she's one of us now, we're never letting her go.

↳ zoyatorres no other people i'd rather be friends with

↳ landonorris friends? who said anything about friends? we're family now

↳ dulceperez calm down dominic torretto. let the girl get used to our company before forcing her into this weird little family.

↳ zoyatorres i practically live with them...maman leclerc loves me…baby leclerc loves me

↳ user3 now this is something i wasn't expecting. baby leclerc has two big sisters, freya and zoya are the best big sisters, no doubt about it.

zoya was lost. it was that simple. she hadn't meant to wander off, but she had really needed to use the bathroom and freya had abandoned her. zoya would never get used to the paddock life, it was too chaotic for her. zoya preferred touring and tour buses, at least there it was a controlled chaos. she hoped she could find someone she was familiar with like mae or max, maybe they would help her out. or maybe she would die of embarrassment before she ever made her way to the ferrari garage.

too preoccupied with finding her way to the ferrari garage she failed to notice the 6ft wall in the shape of a human. she crashed into him and if it weren’t have been for his quick reflexes she would’ve fallen over. the wall grabbed her arm and pulled her close before she could touch the ground. it was then that she realized the wall wasn’t a wall and instead a human body. she pushed herself away from him, not that she wasn't thankful for his rescue, but he was a stranger, and zoya was not okay with random people touching her. maybe that was the downside of being a celebrity, people always thought they had a right to touch you or take pictures with you as if they knew you.

not that she wasn't grateful for her fans, she was, they were the reason she had the fame she did. it was the strangers who didn't even know her, and just saw a mob of people surrounding her, and decided it was okay with touching her. maybe she should bring that up with her therapist at their next meeting.

“you okay?” the human wall questioned. zoya nodded, letting go of his hand, “yeah, i got lost on my way back from the bathroom and freya ditched me so i have no clue where i’m going. i’ve been wandering this place for like 10 minutes and i still can’t find the ferrari garage.”

the human wall laughed, "considering that you're at the williams garage i'd say you're pretty far off."

"oh shit," zoya muttered, "i knew i was going in the wrong direction. this place should come with a map or something."

"i can take you to the ferrari garage?" the human wall offered. zoya glanced at him, noticing the fireproofs he was wearing, "and you are?"

"logan sargeant," he answered.

“well, logan sargeant, i’m zoya torres,” she introduced, “and i would very much like help getting back to the ferrari garage.”

logan laughed again, “pleasure zoya. it’s nice to properly meet you.”

“likewise.”

liked by charles_leclerc, nataliaruiz, freyavettel and others

zoyatorres the leclerc family takes on miami! not pictured is arthur pouting over a fallen piece of cake and lorenzo laughing at him. pictured is freya staring lovingly at mick while he causes baby leclerc to giggle.

tagged: charles_leclerc, nataliaruiz, freyavettel, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, mickschumacher

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user1 i guess charles really did steal seb's daughter

arthur_leclerc wow no picture of me or enzo? guess who isn't my favorite niece

↳ zoyatorres you literally told me to not take any pictures of you cause you looked like shit? and the one i did take, as mentioned in the caption, you didn’t want me posting.

freyavettel out of all the pictures you took of me, you picked that one?

↳ zoyatorres it's the one where you look most in love with mick

↳ user2 she's literally one of us. she's a mastermind who wormed her way into natalia's heart and now they're never going to let her go

↳ user3 but does mick have mom and dad’s approval?

↳ zoyatorres he has mine! i love mick, he’s a sweetheart. he’s also my sweets provider

↳ charles_leclerc jury’s still out

logansargeant it was nice to meet you zoya! pleasure getting to know the girl behind the music landonorris and isabellaperez are always screeching

↳ zoyatorres pleasure meeting the american rookie! thanks for helping me find my way to the ferrari garage

↳ charles_leclerc back off american 🤺

↳ zoyatorres you're not my dad!

↳ user4 and we know who wouldn’t have dad’s approval.

¡leclerc-s speaks! american rookie it’s your time to shine baby! although you haven’t had the best season, we still love you. double update today baby!! manifesting a win or podium for charles this weekend

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[fairyboygenius]

everywhere, everything

simon “ghost” riley x original female character

prev | next

a/n: this is short lol but it’ll introduce some conflict. this does have a plot despite me knowing like nothing about the military

no warnings!

yk the deal

When they walked into the meeting room, the first thing Task Force 141 saw was Allie sitting with her feet up on the table, petting Lola with one hand and messing with a fidget toy with the other, laughing at something Laswell was saying. She was still in her scrubs, braids pulled back with a bandana.

“Great of you to finally join us, boys.” Laswell sounded bored in her signature way. She checked her watch, then got up and moved towards the front. “Feet off the table, Al. We’ve got lots to cover.”

Allie flinched, a chastened expression flashing across her face before she took her feet off the table and sat up. The seat she had chosen happened to be right next to Simon’s usual seat- and he liked his little routines as much as the next person, so why move away from her? Lola nudged his hand as he sat, and he hummed, reaching out to tentatively pet the top of her head. Allie gave a little nod of approval before settling back in.

She smelled like lavender. Definitely non-regulation soap. It’s his new favorite scent in the world.

“Okay, so, we’ve got some updates on the Konni. It seems they’re setting up a club somewhere in Chicago, which’ll of course just be a front for the weapons and drug dealing. They’re planning an attack on Chicago with the help of an American group.”

Allie visibly winced as Laswell said the next part. “Shadow Company.”

“You can’t be serious,” Price huffed. “Thought that whole operation fell apart after Graves was killed.”

Laswell clicked to the next slide, a picture of the last time the group saw Phillip Graves in some warehouse. “See, that’s what we thought.”

Groans erupted around the table. Allie blinked, and genuine distress seemed to appear on her face for a second. “Ma’am, please tell me you’re joking.”

Laswell shook her head. “Apparently he’s been convening with Konni for several months now. Faked his death after Las Almas to avoid the inevitable consequences.”

“So where do we fit into all of this?” Gaz asked. “We go on, infiltrate the club, take down Makarov and Graves?”

Price grimaced. “What, you got a better plan? Can’t exactly jus’ sit in here and gripe about how we fucked up last time. We need to get in there before more innocent people are killed by that whole group.”

Laswell gave a thin smile. “I hear Chicago’s nice this time of year.”

“We’re leavin tomorrow, then?” Soap spoke up. “Whit time?”

“Heli’ll be ready at 2030. Don’t be late.” Laswell looked at each of them, her voice slipping into professionalism mode as she looked at Allie. “Lieutenant Bishop, I’ll have one of the other medics walk you through what’s in your kit. Anything bigger than basic first aid the boys come to you. Doesn’t matter if you need to drag them, kicking and screaming. Yours and Lola’s ear protection will be delivered to you by lunch tomorrow.”

Allie nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“We’ll go over the itinerary after dinner tonight.” Laswell looked at Price for confirmation, and he nodded. “Dismissed.”

Everyone filed out, but Allie was quiet. Still early enough on that she wasn’t comfortable with them, necessarily. Still not exactly a social butterfly.

“Ye alrigh’, lass?” Soap nudged her. Lola booped her snout against Allie’s hand, which helped to ground her.

“Yeah. I just… the fact that this is my first mission with you guys is kind of crazy. Considering I used to work with Shadow Company. I wasn’t involved directly in any of their shit, but I was a team medic, kind of like I am for you guys. I’ve heard how Phillip- Commander Graves- kind of screwed you over.”

“You know Graves well?” Ghost’s voice was gruff. Something flashed in his eyes- was it jealousy? No, surely not- before his expression settled again.

Allie sighed, just deciding to drop the bombshell. What’s the use in keeping the secret?

“He’s my ex boyfriend.”