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#and people try to help him with it and for the most part he’s convinced the dreams aren’t real
helloalycia · 21 hours
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑
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two / three / masterlist / wattpad
summary: after you step in to defend Jackie against one of her boyfriend's sleazy friends, you realise helping the popular girl and starting beef with a jock has its consequences.
warnings: mentions of sexual assault, minor violence and underage drinking.
author's note: i keep getting people asking about posting more jackie stuff so i’m happy to share yet another fic! it’s three parts and it’s the last thing for now that i’ve written for her, so i hope you all like it 🥰
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I collapsed on the grass outside, breathing out with relief once the fresh night air cooled me down and the music from inside wasn't so loud anymore. How I'd let Van convince me to attend a house party was beyond me, but as my best friend, she usually got her way.
Tonight though, I may have gotten a little carried away and drank more than usual, feeling somewhat lightheaded and lazy. Drunk me wasn't so fun, so I'd come outside to cool off and catch myself, away from the compact house of some jock I didn't know.
As I relaxed, trying to tune out the few teens that were milling around the front lawn, I heard a commotion by the front door. Some couple were arguing, their voices familiar as they left the house and grew louder.
"–can't just check out other girls right in front of me!"
"I wasn't! God, you're overreacting, Jackie, you always do this!"
I sat upright, pushing my hair from my eyes as I glanced in the direction of Van's soccer teammate and the most popular girl in our grade, Jackie Taylor, arguing with her boyfriend, Jeff Sadecki.
The last thing I cared about was their relationship troubles, but they were so damn loud and I was suddenly entertained by their back and forth. From what I could gather in my drunken state, Jeff had been distracted by some girls, flirting with one of them, but didn't deem it flirting like Jackie did.
"–just forget it, we're over!" Jackie shouted at him, throwing her cup on the grass with frustration.
Jeff scoffed. "Whatever. I don't need this."
He returned to the house as Jackie clenched her jaw, still angry. She fumbled for a cigarette and lighter from her purse with irritation, her clumsy hands betraying how much she'd drank tonight too. Thoughtlessly watching, I saw one of Jeff's friends, Leroy something-or-the-other, trail out the house and approach her.
Not shouting like Jeff and Jackie had been a moment ago, the two of them were talking and I couldn't hear their conversation. Or rather Leroy was chatting up Jackie and she was visibly uncomfortable, attempting to step back. He began to get touchy though, his hands grabbing her arm, and whether it was a sense of female camaraderie or my absolutely stupid alcohol-soaked brain, I felt the need to intervene.
Dragging myself up off the grass, I stumbled over to them and fixed Leroy with a glare.
"She clearly doesn't want you here," I said in what I hoped wasn't a babble of English.
"Back off, bitch," Leroy sneered at me, before stepping closer to Jackie and letting his hand slip to her butt.
Jackie jumped at his unwanted touch, hazel eyes widened with panic, and without thinking, I made a swing at Leroy's face, fist connecting with his nose in a sickening crack.
A groan escaped my lips as I grasped my hand – what the fuck was his face made of?! – and then I realised what I did as he stumbled back, clutching his face. I saw a glimpse of blood, and then Jackie's widened eyes looked between us, and I knew I was fucked.
"You little bitch!" he shouted, before making a sloppy swing at my head, to which I thankfully still had the instinct to duck away from.
Not ready to finish this fight I definitely didn't mean to start, I shoved him back to buy time then grabbed Jackie's hand, telling her quickly, "Time to go!"
Thankfully she got the hint and I yanked her away, the two of us running as fast as we could. Leroy chased after us and I risked glancing over my shoulder, watching him trip over his own feet and buying us enough time to leg it down the street.
"Here," I said breathlessly, pulling Jackie down behind a car.
The two of us practically held our breath as we kneeled down, frozen in place. I didn't doubt that Leroy would kill me, and her by association, and I began to wonder how I'd even ended up in this situation.
Jackie risked glancing around the back of the car before sighing with relief. "He's not following us."
Mirroring her sigh, I turned around and sank to the ground fully, back against the car. She joined my side, both of us reeling from what happened. I glanced down at my hand, aware that it should be hurting but not quite registering the pain. It was distant, the alcohol fogging my mind.
"What the hell was that?" Jackie asked, reminding me she was there.
Dazed, I tilted my head and stared at the road. "That wasn't your boyfriend, was it? I can't remember."
She let out a breath before giggling. "No. That was my ex-boyfriend's idiot friend."
Making sense of it all again, I nodded. "Right. Yeah. What a dick."
"Yeah," she agreed.
Feeling hot and a little dizzy, I tried to focus on the present and looked over at her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, her curled blonde hair bouncing as she did. "Yeah. Thanks to you." Hazel eyes flickered to mine in gratitude, and I could only shrug in response.
A silence fell upon us for a moment, and I suddenly became aware of how this was probably the most I'd ever spoken to Jackie Taylor in my life. We'd been in the same class since we were kids, and despite her being on the same soccer team as Van, there had never been need for us to converse. Until now, I guess.
"I feel sick," she suddenly said, and I noticed her face was a little pale.
"Then throw up," I said tiredly.
She scrunched her face with disgust, shaking her head. I shrugged, not caring, and then she leaned to the left and threw up a little. I pulled a face as she straightened up lazily, wiping her mouth.
"I've gotta go home," she said.
I checked my watch, but it did nothing to help because the hands were moving in all sorts of directions. "Same. I think."
She began to snicker, glancing sideways at me. "Leroy just might kill you."
A little delusional and finding her amusement contagious, I began to laugh. Leroy probably would, but right now, I couldn't care less.
She lifted a finger in the air with realisation. "Shauna," she exclaimed. "She'll drive."
"I can't leave Van," I remembered, as she stood up and yanked me up with her.
"I'll go get her," she promised, already tugging me back to the house, where Shauna's car was parked out front. "Don't move."
I saluted clumsily, waiting by Shauna's car and almost falling asleep against the door as Jackie seemed to take years to return. Finally, her, Van and Shauna all came back, Van shooting me an amused glance as she helped me off the door.
"What the hell happened to you?" she asked with a stifled laugh. "Jackie said you punched Leroy?"
I waved a dismissive hand. "Barely."
She definitely wanted to know more but thankfully kept quiet as she helped me into the backseat, sliding in beside me.
"You two are gonna regret this in the morning," Shauna was saying from the driver's seat, but it went in one ear and out the other.
I vaguely remembered Shauna dropping me off home and Van helping me into my bedroom later that evening before passing out.
The next morning, my hangover hit me hard, but not harder than the pain from my broken knuckle. After waking up with a purple right hand, terrible memories from the night before reminded me of what I'd done, and after accepting that Leroy was going to kill me at some point, I went to the hospital with my mum who didn't seem to believe I'd punched a wall whilst drunk. Still, leaving with a splint and cast on my hand was worth it if it meant stopping some jerk from getting handsy.
School on the following Monday was definitely something to dread, mainly because I wasn't sure what would happen. Of course, after getting some stares off other students – word had undoubtedly spread about the incident – I stopped by my locker and was mildly surprised to see the word 'BITCH' scribbled in permanent marker pen across it.
"Lovely," I said sarcastically, before ignoring it, not wanting to give bystanders a show.
I opened it as usual and put my skateboard inside, mindful of my hand, when I felt someone bump into me from behind on purpose. I clenched my jaw when I turned and saw it was Leroy walking past, a bandage across his nose.
"Bitch," he muttered with bitterness.
"Yours truly." I returned his glare, before looking back to my locker.
If he was going to hate on me for stepping in as he sexually assaulted a girl, then let him. I'd never liked him anyway, the worst of Jeff's idiot friends. But hey, at least I'd broken his nose.
I'd like to say it ended there, but not even a moment later, his girlfriend whom I'd forgotten existed until she appeared by my side with a threatening glare, decided to defend his stupid arse.
"You better back off," she attempted to warn me. "I know it was you who broke his nose."
I quirked a brow with disbelief. "Do you know why?"
She scoffed. "Because you're a bitch."
I furrowed my brows, wondering if she was choosing to be this dense. "Tiffany, your arsehole boyfriend groped another girl."
She rolled her eyes. "Like I'd believe you."
I snorted with amusement. "Fine. Don't. I really don't care."
She stepped closer to me with narrowed eyes. "Stay the fuck away from us, bitch."
I rolled my eyes as she left, wondering how I'd managed to make so many enemies in the space of one night. Unfazed though, I continued to grab some books from my locker and ignored the looks I was getting from students with nothing better to do. This would all blow over in a few days, I just knew it.
When I closed my locker, I jumped, startled, when I saw Jackie stood behind it.
"Jesus," I said, clutching my chest. "A warning would be nice."
"Sorry," she said awkwardly, before her eyes fell to the cast on my hand and widened slightly. "Fuck."
"Hi to you too," I replied sarcastically.
She shook her head apologetically before meeting my gaze. "Friday night. That was... a lot."
I nodded, just as uncomfortable as she sounded. "Uh huh."
She pursed her lips, glancing at my graffiti'd locker. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. But I'm thankful for your help. You really showed him."
Not wanting her to feel bad, I tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, his brick head kind of broke my knuckle, but it was totally worth it."
She cracked a small smile, eyes flickering to my hand again. "Sorry."
I shrugged her apology off easily. "Seriously, Jackie, you don't need to say anything. Honestly, we were both drunk and I probably could have handled the situation better, but what's done is done. We're good."
She relaxed a little, nodding in agreement, though I couldn't tell if she was satisfied by my response. When she didn't say anything, I held my books to my chest awkwardly.
"So... see you in class," I said.
"Right," she agreed, and then we both turned to walk to class, only to fall into step with one another. "Same class," she mumbled when she noticed, and I tried not to laugh.
"Same class," I agreed, and a silence fell between us as we reached the classroom.
After exchanging a final glance, we split off to our seats, her joining Shauna's side as I found my usual spot next to Van. When she spotted me, she was already laughing at the sight of my bandaged hand.
"I can't believe you punched him," she said instantly, making me roll my eyes.
"Glad this is funny to you," I said playfully, giving her a disapproving look.
She continued to tease me. "I leave you alone for five minutes, Y/N! God, I wish I could've seen it. Everybody's talking about it. Apparently you broke Leroy's nose."
"Something like that," I mumbled as she laughed with amazement.
She continued to ramble about what people had been saying, enjoying how awkward I was at the attention, and I let my eyes wander around the classroom as I tried to tune her out. They subconsciously drifted to Jackie, who was listening to something Shauna was saying to her, and then she glanced at me and I quickly looked away, embarrassed I'd been caught.
I was relieved to see that the graffiti on my locker had been scrubbed off (terribly, but I wasn't complaining) by the cleaners last night, as when I showed up to school the next morning, it was gone. My headphones were on as I replaced my books for the morning, mindlessly getting ready for homeroom.
There was nothing out of the ordinary as I did, my eyes glancing around casually, and then I saw Jackie a little ways down the hall, leaning against the lockers with her apparently-not-so-ex-boyfriend, Jeff. I couldn't care less, but she must have felt my eyes as she awkwardly made eye contact, smile fading slightly, and I looked away. Whether she was back with Jeff or not wasn't my business – she was barely a friend, let alone someone whose relationship I cared for – but it felt strange knowing she would choose to go back to him after everything that had happened.
Once I'd grabbed my books, I pulled my headphones off and stuffed them and my walkman into my backpack. I was forced to walk past a flirtatious Jackie and Jeff, eyes trained ahead, and tried not to think much more on it as I went to homeroom.
I settled at my desk, flicking through my English book when I saw Van wasn't here yet, and began to look over my homework a final time before next period. In my own world, I was startled when someone appeared at my desk, looking up to see Jackie stood there.
"Er... hi?" I greeted with a quirked brow.
She swallowed awkwardly, looking uncomfortable. "What you saw just then, with Jeff and I..."
When she didn't continue, I pressed, "What?"
"It's not like it seems," she finished, cheeks tinged pink.
I wasn't sure why she felt the need to explain herself to me of all people, but I answered, "What, that you're back together?"
She pressed her lips together, nodding slightly.
Tilting my head and playing along, I asked, "Well, are you?"
She cleared her throat. "Well, yeah, but–"
"Cool," I cut her off, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "It's none of my business."
She scoffed slightly. "Yeah, but you're gonna think I'm being stupid after everything that happened–"
Growing tired of this conversation, I said, "Being stupid? You think I think it's stupid that your boyfriend was flirting with other girls and then his friend sexually assaulted you and you're still going back to him?" I tutted sarcastically. "Nah, not stupid at all."
She tensed her jaw slightly, clutching her books to her chest. "It's not like that."
I raised my eyebrows. "Then why are you telling me? You've never cared what I thought before."
She let out a low groan, having no reply, and simply walked away to her seat. Okay, so maybe I was being a little harsh, but it was just odd that she suddenly cared what I thought. And yes, I was judging her terrible life choices, but it wasn't my business.
It didn't matter anyway. I wasn't expecting this to be much of a problem now that she'd (terribly) explained herself to me.
Maybe I underestimated how long jocks could hold grudges for, or maybe I was just stupid for not knowing Leroy would never let things go. All I knew was that my one punch was never letting me live it down, nor letting me go back to being just acquaintances with Jackie Taylor.
About a week after Jackie felt the need to explain her getting back together with Jeff, I was skateboarding home from school like I always did. The crossing on the road was clear, so I started to ride across, headphones on my head as I did. I saw a car in my peripheral vision, but it was further down the road and they could obviously see me, so I thought nothing of it.
That was until it suddenly beeped and stopped right next to me, scaring the shit out of me and making my foot catch the ground, my skateboard slipping out from under me. Heart racing in my chest, I pulled my headphones from my head and sat up, just in time to hear a voice I definitely didn't want to.
"Watch out, loser!"
I looked to my left to see Jeff and Leroy laughing in Jeff's car, impressed with themselves and their ability to startle me. But the real frustration kicked in when I saw Jackie sat in the passenger's seat, flushed red with embarrassment and guilt as she glanced at me. Why was I not surprised?
Clenching my jaw, I stood up and ignored their laughter, instead grabbing my skateboard and finishing crossing the road. They beeped again as they drove off, but I didn't bother sparing them a glance.
My opinion on Jackie Taylor up until this point was practically nonexistent. In my eyes, she was just some popular girl in school who was nice enough to everyone, kind to my best friend who happened to be on the same soccer team as her, and that was it. We rarely crossed paths or spoke, and I'd never thought about her other than if she was right in front of me.
Now, however, she seemed to be in my life a lot more because of one stupid night, and I found my opinion of her worsening as I judged her poor choice of boyfriend and those she surrounded herself with.
The next day at school, almost to my amusement if I wasn't so irritated by everything that had happened, Jackie found me in homeroom at my desk again. I had a strong sense of deja vu as she hovered before me, uncharacteristically nervous.
"Hey," she spoke first.
I blinked, expressionless, definitely not in the mood for this. "Hi."
It took her a moment to find her words, in which I was growing a little more annoyed by her apparent innocence.
"Yesterday...," she started, "I didn't mean for–"
"What?" I interrupted. "Your jackass boyfriend and his jackass friend to act like jackasses?"
She sighed. "Yeah."
Was she always this irritating? I couldn't remember anymore.
"It's cool, Jackie," I decided to end the conversation, afraid I'd say something I'd regret. "I didn't expect anything less from tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber."
I looked back down to my notebook, hoping she'd leave and we could be done with our lives, but she felt the need to keep going.
"He's not always like that," she said gently. "I swear, he–"
"Did you come here just to defend him?" I asked with surprise. "Because I don't wanna hear it."
She frowned, irritable. "No, I just– I wanted you to know that."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Great apology. Thanks."
Clenching her jaw slightly, she said, "If you gave me a chance to speak, I'd say it."
"Whatever," I mumbled, rolling my eyes and returning my attention to my book.
She huffed with disapproval, making me glance at her with a slight glare. Her playing innocent game was getting old.
"FYI, if you're dating a jackass, that kinda makes you one too," I reminded her when she didn't leave.
She returned my glare before turning on her heel and leaving for her desk. Van soon showed up, taking her seat beside me but noticing the blonde leaving.
"Jackie still on you about your hand?" she asked with amusement. "I keep telling her to get over it, that you're okay. But she feels bad."
I rolled my eyes at the mention of her. "Can't feel that bad if she's still hanging around with douche one and douche two."
Taken aback, Van gave me a look. "Woah, who shit in your cereal this morning?"
I shook my head dismissively, releasing a breath. "Sorry. Nothing. Just tired, I guess."
She clearly didn't believe me, and when I looked up at her, I saw her glancing over to where Jackie was sat, but I refused to look that way. Van smiled in that direction though, greeting her teammate, before giving me a confused look.
"Did you guys fight or something? She looks like you kicked her dog."
"No," I said with mild irritation, before facing forward. "Can we drop this?"
Van chuckled quietly. "Sure, weirdo."
Later that day, I was staring out the window in Chemistry class whilst I waited for other students to make their way in and for class to start. When I felt a presence beside me, I assumed it was my lab partner, Dennis, and straightened up to greet him with a smile, but then I saw it was Jackie placing her bag on the desk and pulling out the stool.
"The hell are you doing?" I asked with furrowed brows, watching as she got comfortable. "Dennis sits there."
"Not today he doesn't," she said knowingly, before waving a hand to Dennis who waved some cash in the air with gratitude.
I dropped my jaw with disbelief. "You paid him?"
She turned to face me, her honey-coloured eyes meeting mine guiltily. "I want to say sorry for real. The only reason you're getting all this aggression from Leroy is because you stuck up for me."
I gave her a sarky look. "Kind of, yeah."
She sighed, rolling her shoulders back. "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't even want Leroy there yesterday, but he needed a ride home and Jeff said yeah. It's no excuse though."
I pressed my lips together, eyes studying her straight face curiously. There was a hint of sincerity somewhere there, and maybe finally putting this to bed would bring things back to normal. But then a smile grew on her lips and any chance of forgiving her went out the window.
"This doesn't make me a jackass now, does it?"
I lifted my brows with disbelief, her pride frustrating me. "Wow. Is that what this is about?"
She shook her head. "No. Of course not. But you should know that I'm not like that."
"Is the only reason you're apologising to change the way I view you?"
Again, she shook her head nonchalantly, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Maybe she was nice on the surface, but Jackie Taylor didn't seem genuine in the slightest.
"You know what? Fuck this," I told her, beginning to pack my books away. "I don't need to forgive you and I don't need your fake apologies or games. Just leave me alone. Things were a lot easier before I decided to be nice to you."
She watched me gather my things with bewilderment. "That's not fair."
I stood up and shot her an impatient look. "Whatever. You stick to your delusional princess land with your dick boyfriend and his friends and I'll stick to being a loser. Sound good?"
Her mouth opened with surprise, both offended and taken aback. "Y/N, just– where are you going?"
"To find my actual lab partner," I snapped, before moving past her to find Dennis.
I was beginning to think breaking my knuckle wasn't worth it. Getting involved with Jackie only seemed to bring me misfortune.
A few days passed with Jackie finally seeming to leave me alone. Don't get me wrong, I would occasionally catch her eyes in the hallway or in class, or sometimes she'd need to chat to Van about something and I'd awkwardly wait for her to finish before she'd leave, but she seemed to give up on bothering me with her half arsed apologies.
As for Leroy and his girlfriend, they clearly still held some sort of grudge for me, shooting me glares whenever they saw me. It got to a point where they seriously needed to get over themselves, though I guess that was hard when Leroy's broken nose was a constant reminder that he got decked in the face by a girl.
I was walking down the hallway when I resisted the urge to roll my eyes upon seeing Leroy and Tiffany walking in the opposite direction. I purposely avoided their gaze, not wanting to get into a confrontation with them, but Leroy purposely bumped into my shoulder with force, making me drop my books, and that was my last straw.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I exclaimed, before picking up my books.
"What did you just say?" Leroy stopped, turning around to fix me with a glare.
I clenched my jaw as I returned it twice as hostile. "You really need to grow up. Your big rock of a head is still in tact, so what's your problem? You think you'd get over this by now."
He looked like he wanted to punch me, but Tiffany stepped forward instead.
"Watch your mouth, bitch," she hissed, making me groan loudly with disbelief.
"He literally harassed another girl, and probably others too!" I reminded her. "Are you insane?!"
"Don't listen to her," Leroy said to her coolly. "She's just jealous."
"I know, baby, I know."
I laughed bitterly, looking between them like they were the world's strangest exhibit. Bystanders were starting to look at the three of us now, probably expecting a fight, but I seriously didn't care.
"You need to get a life and stay out of ours, loser," Leroy threatened me, fist clenching by his side.
"How fucking ironic," I said, shaking my head. "You're the one who won't get over yourself."
"You keep running that mouth of yours and I'll give you a broken nose," Tiffany attempted to threaten me, stepping forward, but she wasn't intimidating in the slightest. "You deserve it after hurting him."
I snorted with amusement. "I would love to see you try." When she squeezed her fists by her side, I glanced at her stupid boyfriend. "What? Can't fight your own battles, big man?"
Steam was practically leaving their ears as they glowered at me, and then the next events happened too quickly for me to make sense of.
Jackie came out of nowhere and stepped between Tiffany and I, saying, "Okay, how about we just–"
But Tiffany punched forward, aiming for me but Jackie got in the way at the same time and Tiffany's fist landed on her face. My eyes widened as Jackie stumbled back into me, clutching her nose, and both Tiffany and Leroy watched on with wide eyes.
"What the fuck?!" I shouted, before holding Jackie upright as I went to look over her face. When I moved her hand away slightly, there was blood streaming from her nose and I couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh my god!"
"What the hell, Jackie!" Tiffany cried out, holding her hand with pain.
"Are you kidding right now?!" Jackie retorted before wincing and holding her nose again, head tilted up to stop the bleeding.
"Okay, everyone move aside!" a teacher pushed through the crowd of entertained students surrounding us. When she spotted Jackie's bleeding nose, she said, "Miss Taylor, you need to go to the nurse's office–"
"I'll take her," I said quickly, before fixing Tiffany with a glare.
"You," the teacher continued, looking to Tiffany, "with me, now."
I didn't wait any longer to watch the death stares from Leroy and Tiffany, instead guiding Jackie to the nurse's office. I still couldn't believe she'd stepped in like that, and also that Tiffany had it in her to punch me. I didn't think she'd actually do it.
"Oh my god, it's running down my throat," Jackie whined with disgust, looking forward again. "I'm gonna be sick."
"Ssshhh, we're almost there," I cut her complaining off, though a large part of me felt extremely guilty.
When we reached the nurse's office, I immediately guided her to the bed to sit upright, whilst the nurse seemed to catch on and immediately jumped into action. I stood back and watched as the nurse gave her some gauze to hold to her nose.
"Is it broken?" Jackie asked with wet eyes, a little dramatically.
"No, dear, it's just a bloody nose," the nurse assured her, before glancing at me. "There's not much else I can do. Just keep changing the gauze and have her drink some water."
I nodded. "Will do. Thanks."
She offered a smile before heading to the other side of the room to finish helping out another student. I watched her leave before joining Jackie's bedside and looking to her with disbelief.
"What the fuck was that?!" I asked.
She moved the gauze so it wasn't blocking her mouth and motioned to her face. "I was trying to stop this from happening."
"A little fucking late," I said sarcastically.
"I figured," she snapped, before her face scrunched up with pain and she closed her eyes momentarily.
My jaw slowly relaxed as I really took the state of her in. The guilt pressed down on my chest – this wasn't her fight and she was certainly not the type of girl to get into one in the first place. Seeing her bloody nose and stained shirt was like seeing a puppy get kicked, and my irritation definitely wasn't helping.
"You shouldn't have got involved," I said with a sigh, sitting at the edge of her bed.
She opened her eyes, bright hazel ones swimming with guilt. "I just wanted to make things right. Show you that I really am sorry. It's not about how you view me and it's not a game. I'm just sorry."
Unlike the last time, she seemed genuine with her apology, and paired with her puppy dog eyes and bloody nose, it was hard for me not to give in.
"Fuck, fine, I forgive you," I breathed out.
She began to smile with relief before leaning back slightly. I frowned, eyes flickering over her guiltily, before I grabbed the spare gauze at her bedside and gently replaced the one in her hand.
"It looks like it's stopping," I said, disposing of the bloody gauze. "God, you're insane."
"It fucking hurts," she cursed, grimacing.
I tried not to smile as I wet a cloth in the bowl beside her bed. "It was barely a real punch. Tiffany's hand took most of the damage."
She narrowed her eyes at me as I began to wipe the dried-up blood from her nose and mouth with the wet cloth. "Tell that to my face."
A small smile of amusement broke out on my lips. "This was stupid, Jackie."
She sighed, removing the gauze so I could clean around her nostrils. "Probably."
The bridge of her nose was a little swollen and bright red, but at least the bleeding had stopped. God, as if Jackie Taylor got punched in the face for me. I literally never could have predicted that.
Once I cleaned her up, the nurse returned to give her some painkillers and an ice pack before making arrangements for her to be picked up from school.
"I'm sorry, I'd drive you home myself, but I don't have a car," I said with an apologetic smile.
She shook her head. "It's okay. You already stayed with me longer than you needed to. I'm just glad things are good between us again."
I exhaled softly, surprised that she cared this much. We were indifferent to one another, that was our thing. Whether it was because she felt she owed me after I broke my knuckle, or she was just trying to prove that she wasn't a bad person, I was left wondering why she was going through all this effort for a friendship that barely existed.
After she went home, it was easy to say that word of the fiasco spread around school like wildfire. Tiffany had been given a month of detention apparently, and I didn't see Leroy for the rest of the day, thankfully. Van found me after school, the two of us planning to walk home together, and that was where I debriefed her about everything that happened.
"Holy shit, what I would pay to see Jackie get decked in the face!" she exclaimed with a grin.
I quirked a brow. "Aren't you literally teammates?"
"Not in a mean way," she added quickly. "Like, it would still be funny though. Funnier if it was you, of course."
I shoved her in the arm with my good hand as she chuckled.
"I feel bad enough as it is, so no jokes," I warned her.
"Hey, it's not your fault," she assured me with a knowing look, before pausing and adding, "Though if someone says they're gonna punch you in the face, you probably shouldn't tell them you'd love to see them try."
I tried not to laugh as I shot her a look. "How was I supposed to know she'd actually do it?"
Van began to laugh again. "God, I wish I was there."
"You've only said a million times," I said with a disapproving stare, though a smile tugged at my lips.
Despite the jokes Van wouldn't stop making on the walk home, I still felt extremely guilty and couldn't stop thinking about poor Jackie. How our lives had become so intertwined in the space of two weeks was beyond me, but I suddenly felt responsible for her.
The next day at school, I saw her by her locker with Shauna before homeroom. Even from a distance, I could make out the slight swelling on her nose and it only deepened the guilt I felt. We'd technically resolved everything between us yesterday, but I felt the need to go over there and check on her to see how she was doing.
After dropping some stuff off at my locker, I went over to her and Shauna with a small smile. They noticed me and their conversation ceased, the two of them returning my smile with their own.
"Hey," Shauna greeted first.
I nodded her way before my eyes settled on Jackie, and Shauna seemed to get the hint as she politely dismissed herself, leaving us alone.
"Hey," Jackie greeted warmly.
"Hi," I said, eyes scanning her face. "How's the–?" I gestured to my own nose as I asked.
"Hurts," she admitted with a small smile, "but I covered the bruising. It's still a little swollen, but it'll be fine."
I frowned guiltily when I noticed the extra makeup she'd used to cover the red-purple bruise that had formed on the bridge of her nose. She'd done a good job, but it was still peeking through a little bit.
"It's okay," she said when she noticed my expression, before lightheartedly nodding to my bandaged hand. "Consider us even."
That didn't make me feel better at all, and I shook my head. "It shouldn't have happened. As Van kindly pointed out to me, I egged Tiffany on and she was supposed to punch me. It's not the same thing as me stepping in to defend you."
Jackie rolled her eyes playfully. "It's okay, Y/N, really. Besides, maybe her and Leroy will finally back off now."
I hummed, partially agreeing, though I knew this was still my fault.
"By the way," she added, "I broke up with Jeff."
At this, I raised my eyebrows with surprise. "What?"
Her lips pressed together into a faint smile as she looked down. "Yeah, you were right about what you said. He and his friends are jackasses. And I can do a lot better."
I wasn't sure what to say at first, not expecting her to have actually listened to what I said. But then I nodded slightly, acknowledging her words.
"You can," I found myself saying. "Do a lot better, I mean."
She breathed out with amusement. "Thanks... anyway, I should get my things, but see you in class."
"Yeah, see you," I said, still a little shocked, but nodding nonetheless.
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pickingupmymercedes · 13 hours
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so I was thinking of Lewis being an overprotective father since she's pregnant, fulfilling her desires, giving massages, mimicking and fulfilling his wife's hormonal needs, being a complete husband, not allowing anyone to touch her belly, presuming pregnancy and his wife in the paddock.
Hi anon, I drabbled something here, hope it's okay it's a bit short. Thank you for the request ❤️
______________________________________________________________
Lewis was no stranger to how you valued your independence, it was in fact, something he cherished since the very beginning. You didn’t give up your job for him, your friends were still very much a regular presence in your life and house, your day-to-day life was pretty much the same and you gave him a fight for his money to convince you to move part time to Monaco.
All of your long-time plans were being dreamt and decided with Lewis, and while most of your short ones aligned with his, they were nonetheless, still yours.
That was until a little stick showed two lines.
From that point on, everything you thought of doing was not only about you and your partner, and it took you a bit to come to terms that while that kid that was coming had somewhat preference on decisions, you were both still a couple.
“Babe, I thought we’d go to my mum’s on the weekend” Lewis came into your shared bedroom phone in hand aimlessly scrolling away, hearing the puffing from your closet as he looked around.
“The hell you doing up there? Please, get down” His voice pleading as he reached for your waist when he saw you three steps up the ladder that gave access to the last shelf on the wall.
“I can still do things you know?! I’m trying to find that Prada beanie.” You annoyingly murmured under your breath, reaching into the boxes until you came out with the item you wanted.
“I know you do, just…” He trailed as he helped you down, one of his hands still in your waist while the other helped you get down.
“You’ve been really protective since the bump started showing. I noticed your panic when one of the girls asked to touch it last week at the track” You looked down as his hands protectively went to your lower abdomen, the somewhat swell only really visible when the fabric of your shirt was stretched out.     
“Well, I didn’t know if you were comfortable with that or…” Your hands reaching out to rest on top of his to interrupt him.
“I don’t mind, actually… Do you?” You’ve been meaning to ask him about that since then, but you knew he wouldn’t straight up confess it.
“I don’t know, I think I don’t really feel okay with it, you know?!” His features revealing he was caught off guard with how you included him in that decision.
“You can tell me if you don’t want people touching the bump, Lew.”
“I love you” He confessed, for the thousandth time, to you. Kissing you and kneeling down to kiss your abdomen then, love in his eyes just like when he heard for the first time he was going to be a father.
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kometqh · 2 days
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𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
Captain Rex x F!Reader Pt. 1 Rex tells the story of his first love, his first heartbreak, his one last regret. Word Count: 1,166 Warnings: None (from what I can tell) A/N: This is meant to be a multiple-part story, the second chapter will be out soon!
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"Rex? How come you're so good with kids?" Hera's soft voice rung out in the almost empty cockpit of the Ghost. It was an early afternoon when Kanan, Ezra, Zeb and Sabine left, leaving the two captains behind. And Chopper.
They had been sent on another stealth mission, something about retrieving data on the Empires latest star fighters. Now it was the early hours of the evening, and they still weren't back.
"Huh?" He hummed as he turned around, his swivel chair squeaking in protest at the sudden movement. "What do you mean?"
He had an inkling of an idea of what she meant, though he wasn't too happy to pursue this topic. Play stupid, yes, play stupid, Rex thought as he nervously made eye contact. Maybe she'll drop it.
"Oh come on Rex, you know exactly what I mean. You're practically a second father to our youngest ones!" She exclaimed, elbowing him in the ribcage as she leaned over, egging him on.
"Beep boop!" Chopper added, his tiny, robotic arms raising into the air.
Rex left out a soft grunt at the sudden dig, recoiling into the soft cushion of his chair. He rummaged through his thoughts, trying to form the most believable lie in the next five seconds, before the two managed to catch on.
The cogs in his brain turned, working overtime as Rex dragged on the silence, scratching at his beard in thought.
After a few moments, he let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping.
"I-I'm not sure this is appropriate, Hera." His voice was soft and yet firm, he used it often on his brothers back in the day when they wanted to disobey command, he agreed, and yet followed orders like a good soldier.
In response he received a confused 'huh' before a sudden pain erupted in his shin. That goddamn clanker!
A grunt left his lips as Rex attempted to smack the top of Chopper's metallic head, a slight burning pain erupting in his palm as the robot mechanically cackled, enjoying Rex's demise.
Though to Hera and Chopper this was a sweet, lighthearted moment, to Rex it was a sticky situation. He hadn't yet told the others of this part of his past, and he wasn't sure he wanted to dip his fingertips in deeply drowned memories.
"Oh come on, you know we won't judge." Hera continued, wiggling her eyebrows at the older man. "And plus, this is great for team bonding." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, trying her best to look as convincing as possible.
The two got on well, being somewhat close in age even with Rex looking like a grandpa. He still had the refreshing energy and spirit of a young man, but he also had the knowledge and experience of an experienced veteran. How fitting.
Rex would do anything but talk about this. The room felt a little too hot for his liking, his heart beating harshly against his rib cage.
"It's a bit hot in here, isn't it?" He asked, getting up and moving over to the temperature control panel.
Though as his gaze moved from the control panel to his fellow captain, Rex couldn't help but sigh out loud, his head hanging down. "Fine. You got me."
Before she could even proclaim her victory, Hera was quickly hushed by Rex.
"Just know this doesn't have a happy ending." He warned, crossing his arms over his chest. All of a sudden, the cool steel grey of the cabin seemed more inviting to look at than his fellow crew members.
Leaning back against the wall, Rex thought over how to tell her. These.. Memories, these events, he had hidden them away deep within his subconscious, like sacred mementos in a time pod.
Only a few people were allowed to dig them back up, if they hadn't been by his side as he lived through them.
I guess it's their time now too.
A heavy sigh and a shake of his head later, Rex was feeling ready enough. As ready as he could be.
"Long ago-"
"You sound old."
"Be quiet," Rex hissed out, his words whistling out like bullets from a gun.
He could tell Hera meant it as a joke, but this wasn't something he could bring himself to joke about.
"Long ago, when I was just a shiny, I met this.. Girl."
"Ooo."
"It was during one of my first missions," He paused, observing the scratched out pattern on the floor, "She was caught in the crossfire, and I saved her." He felt his chest twist as more words spilled from his lips. Even though so many years had passed, the memories still felt as fresh as the day they were formed.
He couldn't stop now. He wouldn't. 
"As we made our escape, a plasma bolt grazed her hand, and she fainted and then we defeated the bad guys and my brother Kix had gone off to tend her wound, he was a medic clone, y'know." His shoulders shook as he scoffed, remembering how well Kix had handled the situation.
"She was so.. So weird. She insisted on walking herself home, but then proceeded to get lost on our ship. So I had to find her and escort her, like a gentleman," He paused, his gaze locked onto a scratch of the ships floor, "I think that was the first time I ever felt like a human, like a man."
"From there on, we became closer. She was moved t Coruscant and so I was able to see her during every shore leave. We wrote letters to each other, we went out together, we slept together. Waking up to her by my side was like a dream come true. Until it wasn't."
At that, Hera's posture straightened out a little. She wasn't sure where this was going, and she could feel Chopper shielding himself with her leg.
"My duty to the Galactic Republic outweighed my duty.. My loyalty to her. I left her when she needed me most." He paused again, this time his shoulders shaking, tears tiptoeing at the edge of his waterline. "She wasn't my priority. And neither was Tala."
"Rex-"
"I spent so many months, weeks, days yearning for her. She was there when I closed my eyes, reaching out to me, she was as beautiful as a morning sunshine, her eyes held so much love for me. And I abandoned her." He paused, hiding his face in one hand, seemingly pushing the tears back with his thumb and forefinger. "Tala was three when I left, and I hadn't seen them since."
Silence fell over the trio. Rex didn't want to continue, and Hera was at a complete loss for words. Even Chopper, the usually chippy chirpy robot, had nothing to beep out at this.
Simply put, nobody knew that side to Rex.
"R-Rex I- I don't know what to say.."
"It's fine. I've made my peace with it." He waved her off, the tears having evaporated from his eyes in mere seconds.
"Are they.. alive?"
He felt his breath get caught in his throat, encircling and squeezing at his wind pipe like a tight fist.
"I.. I don't know."
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abitofboth · 17 hours
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owen carvour hcs because he’s in my brain always
he's very reservedly sentimental. the things in his life that mean a lot to him will always have a special place in his heart, but he'd never tell anyone that. his favourite childhood book, a lighter curt gifted him, old letters and photographs etc.
his favourite childhood book is the hobbit. when he was a kid he'd draw in the margins and go through and underline his favourite parts. his childhood pet was a fluffy cat called bilbo!!
left handed. constantly curses out his pens when he's writing and gets ink smudges all over his hand.
an only child, and was never really that close with his parents. his relationship with them grew strained once they found out he was gay.
would happily never interact with a dog for the rest of his life if he could help it. (too slobbery, loud, and boisterous for his liking.)
biiiiig smoker. his hands get twitchy if he hasn't had a cig in a while. he constantly spews some bs about the refined taste of tobacco.
similarly he's a big time wine snob. he gets offended if you suggest it tastes like vinegar and he'll try with all his might to convince you that the aromatics matter.
definitely has a sprinkling of road rage in him. in his opinion he is always in the right, and everyone else on the road needs their license taken from them.
teeny tiny tattoo on his hip of two intertwined mars symbols (♂)
'love' is a name he uses for pretty much everyone on accounts of him being british, but he's much more fond of using 'darling' and 'sweetheart' as pet names when it's just him and curt.
he LOVES the quiet moments between him and curt when they get to spend the night together. watching over him as he falls asleep and running his fingers through his hair are some of his favourite things to do.
he can be surprisingly bashful! talk sweet to him and he’ll blush like hell. pepper kisses over him and he’ll be squirming and giggling like there’s no tomorrow.
he's welsh but moved to london when he was a teenager. he taught himself to speak in an rp accent so he wouldn't be looked down on, and it just kind of stuck. not many people know that he's welsh, not necessarily because he doesn't tell anyone but no one’s ever asked because as far as everyone else is aware, he’s as english as you can get. when he's tired he can slip back into his old accent, and he uses the odd welsh word every now and then around people close to him (mostly curt.)
the first house he lived in in london got destroyed during the blitz, and luckily most of what few possessions he owned survived. he doesn't like to talk about his time during the war often.
after the fall, he gets tinnitus and his hearing is far from as good as it used to be. he lost his right eye, and the glass eye chimera got him has never quite been a perfect colour match. he has trouble with his knee, and has a decent amount of scarring over his body.
post fall there's a part of him that still loves curt, and desperately misses what used to be. it's mostly overpowered by the hatred within him, but the love rears its head out every now and again and catches him off guard.
he likes to cook, but he's kinda shit at it. he doesn't get much practice on accounts of being a spy, so whenever he does cook, something inevitably goes wrong.
once, he'd moved into a new flat and had curt round as his first guest and tried to cook him dinner. it ended up burning and there were full on flames in the frying pan. (curt still takes the piss out of him for this years later.)
he's a bit of a loner, but enjoys his own company for the most part. outside of curt he doesn't really have any close friends, and he isn't in contact with his family.
he has an angry streak in him. he’s easily riled up and the first emotion he goes to is barely concealed rage. he yells more often than he’d like to.
he hates using the term 'boyfriend' to describe curt. he thinks it makes him sound juvenile and he prefers 'partner' way more. plus, he can get away with introducing curt without giving away the fact that they’re together. (he also loves calling curt his 'best friend' in the most romantic sense possible.)
this! bitch! loves! musicals! the wizard of oz is a favourite of his, and he has a soft spot for disney’s cinderella. he has an extra fondness for the term ‘friend of dorothy’ because of this too.
tea over coffee always. two sugars and a splash of milk, not too weak but not too strong.
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sageistrii · 3 days
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Can you please help me with understanding some points?
Today I saw a viminer that was clearly a Jimin anti and I’m so pissed that people claim to stan him just for a clout or because they believe in certain narrative that they have made up by themselves.
Their behaviour is truly hypocritical - she said Jimin has always been careful about lgbt community and v has been always loud about it - “Taehyung gifted Jimin “woman” clothes, so he started accepting himself”. But she never mentions that Jimin called out V for saying that man shouldn’t check selfies, called out members saying that he didnt get why they are so upset about wearing dresses.
But when in one ask someone said that V was being controversial about lgbt - “he called out Jimin for liking man, laughing at his attitude to Jungkook” that girl defended him🤡 like V has always been supportive more than Jimin
Tell me am I right or wrong? Do we have a masterpost about Jimin supporting lgbt or should we make one?
Ok I get this, and it's not like we can ever expect these people to paint him in a good light. The funny thing about how stans use idols or celebs in general talking about or engaging with queer media as proof that they're queer is funny because when you look at someone who's obsessed with queer media or at least wants us to think that they are, it's the straightest person ever. Enjoying a certain type of media doesn't mean you're part of that community, most times queer people engage with and consume straight media more, it doesn't make them less queer.
And I don't understand why we have to prove that Jimin supports LGBTQ.. is he getting an award for his support or does his support cause any significant change in the community?
Also if you ask the average kpop Stan who isn't an army that can't stand the idea of Tae with a woman so they try to convince themselves he's gay because he posted about a wong Kai war movie, to list 10 idols they think could be queer or idols who have helped to break gender stereotypes, Jimin will be the only BTS member on that list.
It reminds me of how armys diagnosed jk as autistic and call him "babygirl" when he would never be the first Idol anyone would think of when they hear the term "babygirl", also how years ago armys and Taehyung stans swore Tae was "unique" because he acted "weird". Everyone wants their fave to be "not like the others", stans and their neverending quest to prove that idols are queer or autistic because they think it makes them unique or because they want to see themselves so bad in the idol even if that idol is anything but.
I think we are past the era when we think someone is gay because they post about gay media. Most BL fans are literally straight women. I'm attracted to women and I consume more straight and mlm media than wlw, it doesn't change my sexuality.
A lot of people think Jimin is queer for reasons that are deeper than these.
Until a few years ago when certain BTS members discovered what the fans wanted to see and what was accepted by their international fanbase, they would literally say the most insensitive things to Jimin about his masculinity, Tae included. That man discovered that fans eat these things up and he's not looked back ever since.
Like I'm not accusing anyone of anything but I just don't think Tae is as close as he is with those wooga squad men and then he's actually queer, or that he could even push anyone to self acceptance. That's like the ultimate "bro club", they are misogynistic and I've heard homophobic too (although I don't know how true that is, I think people just say they are because they give that vibe and I get it). If he's actually queer and oh so forward thinking then being friends with people like that isn't a sign of self acceptance at all in my opinion or maybe wooga squad members are good people in private lol.
I don't think anyone should be making a post to prove that Jimin supports the queer community because he's the last idol that needs that defense.
Jimin has been subjected to homophobi* and transphobi* for years because he's always been himself but of course Tae is more progressive simply because he watched a gay Netflix movie and posted about it on Instagram 😭
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dutybcrne · 3 months
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As far as the people of Mondstadt are concerned, what happened that night of Diluc's eighteenth birthday in terms of the results of The Confrontation between Diluc and Kaeya, is instead a fabrication that a grief-stricken Kaeya had recklessly tried to clear a domain on his own only to be attacked and hurt by a Pyro Abyss Mage. The only reason he survived was being blessed with his Cryo Vision.
Each and every time the lie is brought up, especially in the Angel's Share, Kaeya feels the urge to find that 'Domain' and lock himself in it.
#hc; kaeya#//Those of the church are aware it was NOT in fact a domain excursion; but he Refused to tell them what it actually was#//Many had/have their suspicions; but with how highly Kae held Diluc; many of them dismissed such concerns#//Lisa; Varka; Jean; and Seamus are the only people outside of the Dawn Winery folks at the time who know the Truth behind his injuries#//And ONLY Varka and Adelinde are aware him being Khaenri'ahn had any part to play in it (Kae's not aware Lisa knows too)#//But Kae adamantly Refused to let Diluc be faulted for any of it. Did everything he could to ensure it#//Definitely made it clear that anybody who acted on it in his name would be someone he'd detest and retaliate against#//Made it clear again when Diluc came back; though Jean had no intentions to#//Was she upset; yes. But with how Kae framed himself and the ordeal; she's torn on how to feel about their fight in general#//She doesn't Know exactly why they fought; Kae keeps saying it was Personal and to 'ask Diluc' if she really wants to know#//But she does know both were definitely hurting that night; and she was only able to really help ONE of them#//Ack; veered off course#//But yeah#//Kaeya will NOT ever willingly tell anyone that Diluc hurt him otherwise; and never ONCE resented him for it; either#//If Diluc himself were to try and take blame; Kaeya would Lose His Fucken Marbles and refute him most avidly#//One of the fastest and Only ways Diluc can actually bring Kaeya to genuine Anger#//Luc can insult and push him away all he wants; can even hurt him again if he wanted to#//But that? No; Kaeya would NOT stand for Diluc taking any blame; even from himself#//HE was the one who pushed Luc; HE was the one who approached him while grieving. Thus HE deserves all the blame for what happened#//That's what he thinks. And no one can hope to convince him otherwise. Except maybe Diluc himself#//But that'd take communication skills and emotional vulnerability that neither are equipped nor ready for as they are#//Whoops; veered again lol#//If Kae out of nowhere brings That up and blames Luc/acts in anger of him for it; just KNOW that smth is up
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myfictionaldreams · 6 months
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Day 6: Dry Hump- James Potter
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Summary: James Potter was your best friend, and he was unequivocally in love with Lily Evans. However, he has one secret he trusts only with you: he’s never kissed anyone.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, inexperienced James & experienced Reader, friends with benefits vibes, kissing/making out, dry humping, cumming in pants, teasing, nearly caught
Part 2!
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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James Potter was your best friend. He had many best friends, including the other Marauders and fellow Gryffindors, but he was YOUR best friend and had been since the first year at Hogwarts. James was the one person you always ran to and shared all happy memories with; if you needed cheering up, he’d be the only one who could pull a smile to your lips. It had always been just the two of you until he became infatuated with Lily Evans.
It had been years of hearing about how wonderful Lily was, which you knew anyway as she was your friend. Finally, you convinced her to say yes to one date with James, even though she did wait until everyone was finishing their time at Hogwarts and about to graduate. He’d waited long enough, and you were thrilled to see him getting his dream date.
This was until he casually announced one day, “I’ve never kissed anyone”.
He’d mumbled it to himself under his breath. James had gone from pure exhilarated joy to fear and doubt at the weight he’d put on his shoulders for having to be the perfect date for Lily. You’d taken him to the Shrieking Shack to try and get away from everyone else so that James could blow off some steam, but all he’d done so far was sulk in his armchair and stare into the fire whilst waiting for Sirius and Remus to join after their lesson.
Then, out of the blue, he admitted his secret that he had yet to kiss anyone. A frown dawns on you as you turn away from the book in your hand to inspect the messy-haired Marauder next to you visually. “What?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty as if he was telling the truth, “How have you never kissed anyone before?” Your mind raced to all of the parties in the Gryffindor tower where most people, including yourself, had made out with others, but now that you thought about it, you’d never seen James lip-locked with anyone else.
It was James’ turn to frown as he looked at you blankly, “When would I have had time? I’ve just wanted to be with Lily, and she’s always said no when I’ve asked before. Anyway, I don’t see why you’re saying it in that tone; it’s not like you’ve been kissing loads of people”. You give James a tight-lipped smile to show that he was, in fact, very wrong with that statement. His eyes widen as he realises the truth, “Wait, you have? Since when?”
“James, how can you be shocked? I’ve kissed plenty of people before, especially during those parties with the fire whiskey that Sirius always steals for us. You wander off with the Marauders or fawn over Lily, and what am I supposed to do? Stand on my own? Absolutely not, I go and find some fun”.
Your best friend’s mouth drops open in shock. Still, he quickly covers it up by looking away grumpily, “Great, so I’m the only person in our year who hasn’t kissed anyone, and now, I’m going to take Lily out, and she’s going to refuse to see me again because I don’t know what I’m doing, we’re going to finish school, and I’ll never see her again, and I’ll die alone!”.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his over-the-top rant, shutting the book with a loud snap and facing him completely whilst still in your chair. “James, you need to chill out a bit; I’m sure it’ll be fine. Do you really think Lily’s been going around snogging loads of boys? I’m sure she’s just as inexperienced as you”.
James’ shoulders dropped in relief as he turned back towards you with hope in his hazel eyes, “Do you think so?”
Your face immediately gave it away that you’d been lying as you sighed, “Ok, I might have seen her making out with a Ravenclaw a year ago, but still, I wouldn’t worry about it! You’ll be excellent! You’re James Potter, the Gryffindor King, a founding Marauder and Gryffindor Seeker. You can sure as hell make out with Lily Evans correctly”.
The pretty Marauder smiled thankfully at your dramatic declaration, “That’s true, thanks, Sweetheart”. Relaxing back into your seat, the book returned to your hand, assuming the conversation was officially over. However, only a moment later, James is whining pathetically, “But what if I’m not good? What if I hurt her or lick her wrong or-”.
“Lick? Why are you licking her, James? I thought we were on about kissing?”
“We are! But you know, people use tongues and-”
“James, I don’t know what you want me to say; if you’re that petrified with kissing, why don’t we practice a little so you can stop freaking out”. It took you a couple of long seconds before the offer you’d just given him genuinely dawned on you. You weren’t sure why you had said it, expecting him to say no but wishing for him to calm down and thinking this was the only option.
James’ head snapped towards you, giving his full attention as he asked, “Wait, you’d do that?” He pushed himself up off the chair's arms, and his eyes were wide and hopeful again.
Lowering the book, you spoke slowly, “Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s just a kiss, and at least we’re friends, so no feelings have to be involved”.
“Yeah, that's a good point! Okay, right, so, um, how do we do this? Do I come over to you, or do we stand?”
Sighing at James, you stood abruptly, dropping the book and strutting to him with arms swinging. The marauder sits up suddenly, taking his feet off the stool he had been resting on as he stares up at you with wide eyes that you can see the whites of his eyes beneath his glasses. “What are you doing?” He questions uncertainly as you straddle his lap without a word, your knees resting on either side of his toned thighs, your fingers slipping around his neck and interlocking at the base of his skull.
“I’m going to kiss you, James. Is that alright with you?” You didn’t mean to sound sassy as you asked with a single raised questioning eyebrow, but you also needed to make sure that he was happy for this to continue.
Those two wide hazel eyes stared at your lips, licking his own to moisten as he slowly nodded, “Uh yeah, just tell me what to do.” A pang of sympathy rushed through your chest at seeing James becoming nervous, which was not usually a sight that you had to see as he was usually such a confident, happy person. You would have spent some time to explain that it was normal to be nervous during your first kiss, but you didn’t want to allow any more time for him to freak out, so loosening your intern locked fingers, you moved them to cup each of her freshly shaved cheeks and pressed your lips delicately against his. You wanted it to be quick enough that he didn’t even have time to tense, even though he did proceed to lock up as you moved back to assess his reaction.
“See, it’s not so scary. You’re supposed to enjoy this, James”. Thankfully, as your face lowered once more, he forced himself to take a steadying breath and relax the tension in his muscles as your lips caressed his.
They were softer than you’d anticipated, plump and smooth like a pillow and instantly, your eyes and his close. However, James surprised you by moving his first. His hand lifted and rested on your hip so gently that you hardly felt it until he gave your body a little squeeze to test the waters of how much he could get into the moment. So you rewarded him by pressing your face harder against his, lips beginning to move and rubbing against each other on instinct.
James even amazed himself with how naturally and quickly he could make out with you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss, nose pressing into his cheek so that you could smell his skin that had remnants of his aftershave, which was always spicy and woodsy. As the air became necessary, you pulled back enough to take deep, greedy breaths, now noticing he was doing the same thing but looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.
“So what did you think-”
James didn’t allow your sentence to finish as his other hand cupped along your jaw, pulling your face closer again until the two of you kissed with much more heat with the movements. His mouth opened wider to match how yours was moving against his; your heartbeat quickened as you leaned further into his tall, warm body, melting into his touch and kiss.
Then you wanted to take a risk and licked his bottom lip, which you were ultimately greeted with a praising deep groan of satisfaction that vibrated James’ entire chest and sent tingles straight to your core.
Ok, wow, you thought as James attempted and succeeded with his own lick back against your tongue; you were definitely getting turned on by this. As if he was reading your mind, James pressed harder on your hips, willing you to move down, which you did, your skirt pushing up on your thighs so that when you sat on his crotch, your panty-covered pussy was flush against the material of his trousers.
As one, the two of you pulled away from each other. Mainly because you were now sitting on his very hard erection and also because he knew you could feel his evidence of being aroused. You both stare at each other with wide, unblinking eyes, lips slightly swollen and the taste of his spit still on your tongue.
However, you didn’t want to stop and awkwardly sit back in your seat, and he wasn’t rushing to push you off, either. You were horny, and so was he. Yes, James Potter was your best friend, but that didn’t have to matter; you just wanted him to enjoy the moment and show that it wasn’t as scary as he thought.
Enough time passed, and if he didn’t want to continue, he would have said something by now, so you took the opportunity to lean back in, your thumb attempting to soothe him, stroking across his cheek in timid circles. As your mouths reconnected, your hips ground down on his crotch. You were hoping that he knew enough about anatomy to tell that the warmth from your pussy was a sign of arousal, wanting him to know you were just as turned on as he was.
You do it a few more times, rubbing back and forth with increasing pressure until James makes a pained noise that has you stopping altogether and checking in on him.
He’s looking everywhere but at you, as he apologises, “Sorry, it’s just these trousers are tight and rubbing me painfully”.
“You could just take them off”, you say once again, not thinking before you speak. James looks at you with dramatically wide eyes as he, too, realised what you’d just said. Quickly, you clarified, “I’m not saying that to have sex or anything; I just mean, we could kinda carry on doing what we are doing, but if your trousers are hurting, then just in your boxers”.
You’re surprised by his automatic response of a nod, yes, his arousal blocking all thoughts of Lily as he begins to undo his belt easily. Rising onto your knees to give him room, he pushed the offending material until his thighs were bare and his plaid boxers were on display, barely containing his length. Not wanting him to feel exposed, you lowered yourself once more, and both groaned at the contact, yours at a higher pitch as you could feel the entire outline of his cock against your cunt.
James was bigger than you’d thought and was currently pointing down his left thigh, so you angled your hips in this direction. Tilting your hips forward slightly, your clit grazed along his shaft, causing a hitch in your breath as it caused pleasure to pool in your abdomen, moisture slickening your hole with each movement.
You’re breathing just as heavily as he is, lips still moving against each other, exploring, tasting, needing more. You were kind of proud of him when he moved his face down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses and causing more pleasure to pulse through you. You were half tempted to rise onto your knees again to show him the evidence of your arousal that had soaked through your panties and onto his boxers, but you didn’t want it to stop.
As your fingers delved into his messy black hair to hold his face closer, he thrust his hips up against yours to add to his stimulation. He was still apprehensive, so he didn’t push too hard, but he rocked back and forth until his tip was pressed against your clothed folds. The muscular thighs beneath yours tensed with each thrust, the muscles defined from all his years of playing quidditch.
His hands remained in place, one on the opposite side of your jaw to where his mouth still kissed, and the other hand helped to move your hips back and forth in time with his own ruts. You’d never actually gotten off like this with anyone before. Usually, underwear would be removed at this point, and more direct contact could occur, but it was still exciting to have some barriers between you. The lace of your underwear was quite rough against your most sensitive area, especially your engorged throbbing clit. You were sure to be sore afterwards, especially with the amount of pressure you were rubbing against each other; with each passing second, the need to find completion made you both desperate.
As his lips found yours again, his tongue began to delve and explore the hollow of your mouth, along your palate and even over your teeth; your pussy began to clench, fire blooming in your core with the impending release.
Pulling back, your fingers moved to rest on his shoulders to hold on tighter as you quickly moaned, “Please don’t stop; I’m going to cum”.
James moaned huskily, out of breath, but both of his hands were now on your hips, moving both his hips and yours faster to find his orgasm. Resting your forehead on his, you both shared the same area, still tasting the other in your mouths, sweat beginning to coat your faces. You were sure you could feel his own wet patch against your arse cheek from where precum was dribbling from his tip and staining his underwear. 
“Ah, fuck- James!” your head tilts back as you finally orgasm, thighs shaking and pussy fluttering around nothing. However, just as you were beginning to come down from your pleasurable high, James suddenly grabbed you painfully, both arms wrapping around your waist as he sat up further on the chair, nearly knocking you off of him if it wasn't for his grip around your midsection. Reassuringly your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his face nuzzled into your chest, his body shivering as thick spurts of cum soaked his boxers.
His moans were like music to your ears and sounded slightly pathetic, making you cling to him more, attempting to run your fingers through his hair to calm the crazy style, but to no avail. Your pussy felt like it was on fire due to the rough stimulation and the untouched orgasm, but it felt so good you savoured the sensation for a few minutes whilst trying to catch your breath.
“There you go, Potter. Not only have you kissed a girl for the first time, but you’ve also made her cum”.
James laughs, loosening his grip slightly to look up at you, but then you both hear the worst noise imaginable: voices from a few floors below, especially those of Sirius and Remus. You scrambled to your feet, straightening your clothes and sitting back in your chair, picking up the book and opening it to a random page as James pulled up his trousers, both of you ignoring the bodily juices completely.
James just about had his feet back on the footstool before Sirius and Remus walked in, but both immediately halted and looked between you and James. It was Sirius who spoke first, eyes squinting in accusation, “Why do you both look so guilty right now? What did you do?”
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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Romance Headcanons
Some very random and very silly little headcanons about being in a relationship with the King of Hell, and likely the beginning of many more as I learn how to write for this darling cartoon that has consumed my entire brain.
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- He's one of the greatest flirts of all time, but with one enormous caveat: he has no ability to consciously flirt with anyone he's interested in. Quips and charming smiles come easy when he wants to banter with friends or taunt a foe, but when he starts to get feelings for you and actually attempts to be smooth, everything falls apart. All traces of his grace, power, and quick wit evaporate the instant he pulls his first move, and it only worsens the more flustered he becomes. His first attempt goes so badly that by the end more than a few things are on fire, and neither of you is entirely sure how. Thankfully, your receptiveness despite the disasters will build his confidence; and while he's never quite as smooth as when he's not trying, he does learn to make use of his charms whenever the moment calls for it.
- While at first he'll keep your relationship on the extreme down low, to the point of avoiding public dates and shows of affection, this is only so he can take the time to be sure you know and can fully agree to what you're getting into. Dating Lucifer Morningstar comes with a great many risks that don't ever go away, and he needs you to understand that while he'll do anything to keep you safe, your life will change forever once word gets out. The people of Hell are going to want to know all about their King's new lover, and he has more than a few enemies on multiple planes of existence you'll have to be wary of. As soon as he's convinced you're aware of the risks and accept them regardless, be prepared for him to make up for lost time and then some. He wants to take you on dates to Hell's most premier establishments, to have you on his arm for every single public appearance, and to proudly and boldly declare you to be his love whenever the opportunity presents itself.
- Genuine compliments go a long way with this man. Though he's got a very healthy sense of pride, he still very much enjoys praise, to the point of nearly giddy delight if he gets it from someone he's crushing on. This goes double if you catch him off guard. Expressing your awe when he unceremoniously summons a mundane item out of thin air will fluster him far more readily than even the most lascivious of flirtations, and he'll be riding the emotional high for the better part of a week. Praising his appearance has an even greater impact, and nothing puts a spring in his step quite like hearing how much you like his hair.
- Touch is one of his preferred love languages, second only to gifts and song. He likes to give as much as he does to receive, but as he's a little starved for affection, you'll find him very disproportionately affected by even the most chaste contact. The first time you try looping your arm through his, laying a hand on his shoulder, and even brushing up to his side he'll be deliriously happy. Once the gates are open, however, you can expect him to start initiating and upping the ante quite rapidly. He'll start taking your hand when it's available, cupping the small of your back as you walk at his side, and even pulling you in with his wings for a feathery embrace, and he doesn't stop there. Eventually, if you're amicable, he'll gladly offer his lap anytime you need a seat. This goes double if you're in public.
- Giving gifts is one of his favorite ways to express affection, but he doesn't just do so willy nilly, even if anything you could ask for will be provided in a heartbeat. Rather, he likes to surprise you by gifting something that you didn't even know you needed, and will spend a great deal of time noting what you need help with and drafting ideas to meet that need until he has the perfect solution. Being a craftsman with eons of experience and angelic powers means he can construct anything in the realm of imagination, and he'll use his skills to tune his creation to your particular tastes. All of this is done in secret to ensure you're surprised when he finally presents his creation. No matter how many hours he spends laboring over these gifts, your surprise and joy always makes it all worth it in the end.
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forzalando · 2 months
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Seeing Someone
Lando Norris x friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: Lando is finally ready to tell you how he feels when he overhears you say that you've started seeing someone - but overheard conversations aren't always what they seem. wc: 5.5k author's note: a few disclaimers: 1. let's all pretend that everyone has to spend a few weeks at MTC before the start of the season and they commute to/from London. 2. therapy and mental health help are so important - i purposefully left some things vague because people go to therapy for a variety of reasons and it should be normalized! i also didn't want things to get too heavy or potentially upset anyone by choosing to elaborate on something they relate to/hits a little too close to home. 3. this was inspired by a post i saw on my dash that said "when you said you were seeing someone i was hoping you meant a therapist". this originally started out more light-hearted, but the angst came out and i couldn't stop. feeling a little insecure about this one - thoughts and feelings in the comments/reblogs/my inbox would be so cherished and appreciated :) once again, special shoutout to @sof1shticated for being my beta reader. couldn't do this without you, Mel! warnings: mentions of reader going to therapy, mentions of reader drinking, a few curse words (i think), and angst! but there is a happy ending (even if it's a little open-ended)
Lando had searched the entirety of McLaren HQ at this point and started to worry – you were quite literally nowhere to be found. Usually, this wouldn’t phase him, since you were notorious for getting distracted or caught up in conversation with everyone you came across. You especially found ways to delay leaving MTC when you had to be there physically – the commute from HQ back to London each day was objectively the worst part of everyone coming together in the weeks leading up to each new season.
Today, however, the two of you had plans to get dinner at your favorite restaurant in London and you would never miss a chance to devour your favorite scallop risotto, cheese garlic bread, several glasses of wine, and a heaping mound of tiramisu for dessert.
He stopped speed-walking abruptly when he saw a familiar head of brown hair out of the corner of his eye.
“OSCAR,” Lando shouted, his speed-walk turning into a run. “Oscar, have you seen Y/N? She told me to meet at her office at 5:00pm but it’s 5:30pm and she is literally missing. She better have a good excuse, I hate being late.”
“Missing? Are you sure she’s not just caught up in a meeting? I saw her heading to Zak’s office around 4:45pm, did you check there?”
“Zak’s office, of course! The one place I didn’t check. Thanks, Osc, you’re the man.”
Oscar rolled his eyes – “Anytime, Lan. What are you running late for? Hot date?”
Lando didn’t miss the wiggle of Oscar’s eyebrows and slight smirk. It wasn’t a secret to the Australian that Lando had a crush on Y/N – although Lando had never confirmed or denied it, it was pretty obvious to anyone who spent more than 30 seconds around them.
“Ah, something like that,” Lando said nonchalantly, a bashful blush making its way to his cheeks.
“Good luck, mate!” Oscar threw a wave over his shoulder as he heard the retreating sound of Lando’s trainers smacking against the floor.
In truth, although you and Lando were just friends and Lando was terrified he may ruin that, he had plans to tell you about his feelings for you that night at dinner. It had been almost a year since you started working for McLaren, and almost a year of Lando pining after you in secret. He spent most days trying to convince himself he was content just being your friend, but he was determined to make 2024 his year. His first win, hopefully of many, maybe even WDC contender material, and finally plucking up the courage to be honest with you.
As Lando hurriedly approached Zak’s office, he could see that the door was slightly ajar and heard your voice trailing through the opening.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Zak. And a massive thank you for approving the time off on such late notice.”
“Anytime, Y/N, you know you’re like family to me and everyone here. You sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, I’m seeing someone. It’s still new so I’m not set on him yet but I have a really good feeling about it, I’m really starting to wish I had called him sooner. He actually suggested the days off, I’m seeing him on Tuesday and hopefully things continue to go well.”
Lando’s heart dropped to his stomach – all week he had been thinking about tonight. How to tell you, how you might react, how nervous he was, and each day he grew even more anxious. He was panicking – what was he supposed to do? How could he sit across from you all night knowing that he’d missed his chance?
“That’s so good to hear,” Zak said earnestly. “Keep me updated and enjoy your days off.”
Lando could hear chairs scraping and scrambled to leave the scene before you walked out of Zak’s office to find him eavesdropping. He got about 50 feet down the hallway before he heard your voice from behind.
“Lan,” you shouted. “I’m so sorry, I’m totally late but I had to meet with Zak about something and his last meeting went way over.”
You jogged a little to catch up to him – a bright smile on your face that made his heart rate skyrocket and his palms grow sweaty. He couldn’t see you feeling like this. Not tonight, not when he could barely keep himself from telling you that he would be a much better boyfriend than whoever you were dating.
“We still on for dinner? I grabbed everything I needed from my office before I met with Zak so if we leave right this second and ignore the speed limit, they may seat us,” you bumped his shoulder as you joked.
Unable to help himself, only thinking about how hurt he was even though you’d done nothing wrong, Lando blurted out an excuse. “Actually, I was trying to find you to tell you I can’t make it.”
He tried not to react when he saw your face fall a little, but he told himself it was because you were disappointed about the last-minute change in plans and not that he wasn’t going.
“You should still go though,” he offered quickly. “I’m sure you have someone you could take with you!”
Your eyes spotted Oscar across the hallway and you smiled slightly – it had been a while since you had spent time with him and you knew he was having a rough week.
“Yeah, I have someone in mind,” you mused, focusing your eyes back on Lando. “Is everything ok? Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m fine, I just forgot I have plans.”
“Well, we had plans. You scheduled over me?”
“It’s a last-minute thing. Date thing. Last-minute date thing.”
“Oh,” you gasped. “Oh, that’s great!” You plastered a fake smile on your face – hoping that he was just as oblivious now as he apparently is to your feelings. “I hope you have a great time, she’s a lucky girl! I’ll see you on Wednesday, I’m taking a couple days off!”
Before he had a chance to say anything else, you sped off in search of Oscar to bribe him to accompany you to dinner. While you set off across the room, Lando smacked himself in the forehead and groaned.
“Why did you tell her it was a date, you idiot,” he mumbled to himself. Now, it was his turn to speed walk through McLaren HQ, but if he had turned around just for a moment, he would have caught you stopped in your tracks staring at him longingly as he walked away.
You shook your head and sighed, continuing your quest to find the younger McLaren driver and rope him into an evening filled with good food and, if you were being honest with yourself, probably a few tears.
A few moments later, you spotted floppy brown hair bouncing as Oscar walked toward the employee parking lot.
“Oscar!” You yelled after him, increasing your pace to catch up to him.
“Hey,” he said, confusion evident on his face, “I thought you were going out with Lando?”
“He’s got a date,” you blurted. “He has a date and he canceled on me and it’s fine. I am fine. But I want my scallop risotto and tiramisu so you’re coming with me.”
“Sure, Y/N, lead the way.”
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Oscar was, to put it extremely lightly, confused. Lando was completely enamored by you – anyone with eyes could see it. Oscar was wholly convinced that Lando was going to officially ask you out at dinner tonight, especially after the brief conversation they had while you were late to meet up with him.
Yet, here he was, sat across from you in a dimly lit room as you sipped on your third glass of wine and, with all the subtlety of a neon sign, wiped a tear from your lower lash line.
“It’s not that I’m not happy for him, I’m so happy for him. But canceling last minute is a dick move, right? It’s a dick move. I know I’m just his friend, sometimes I feel like just a colleague, but I’m not being dramatic, right?”
Oscar stared at you blankly – his eyes wide and a look of pure fear on his face. He considered himself good at most things, great at quite a few, but comforting a crying woman was bottom of the list of Oscar Piastri’s skills.
“It’s totally a dick move,” he nodded his head eagerly in agreement. “I just don’t get it – when I saw him earlier he was frantic trying to find you. I think he’d scoured the entirety of MTC, he was out of breath when I found him.”
“Well, at least he had the decency to find me and tell me in person that he planned on ditching me.”
“Yeah, but that’s just it, it didn’t seem like he was trying to find you to tell you that. He complained about being late and when I asked him if he had a hot date, he blushed.”
“He is literally on a hot date.”
“Ok, well, when I asked him I meant did he have a hot date specifically with you.”
You scoffed and set your glass down – as much as you loved Oscar and you knew he’d never judge you, if you had any more wine you’d end up sobbing and not just wiping stray tears away.
“As if! Lando has never once made a move on me even though I flirt, or at least try to flirt, with him any chance I get.”
“You flirt with Lando?”
“I made him a personalized Spotify playlist, had Stroopwafels overnighted to him from The Netherlands after Vegas, bought him a sweater for his birthday with a card that said ‘to match your eyes’, and I compliment him every time I see him.”
“That’s your idea of flirting?”
“Well, yes.”
“Y/N, that’s just being nice to people. You’re nice to everyone. Lando is not going to understand that you’re a little extra nice to him and that means you’re trying to woo him.”
You huffed and slumped in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ok, well, how would you flirt with Lando?”
“Did you seriously just ask me that question?”
“Yes because apparently you know all about flirting! And by the way, Logan thought I was coming onto him when I was just being nice so some people would consider my actions flirtatious.”
“That doesn’t count, Logan thinks Uber drivers are flirting with him when they say ‘have a nice day’.”
You and Oscar shared a laugh at the mention of your mutual friend – somehow an even more hopeless case than you in the world of romance.
Your laughs turned to giggles and eventually died down completely. A sigh climbed its way out of your throat, the sudden change in your mood evident to Oscar.
“It doesn’t matter anyway – he’s seeing someone so no more trying, and according to you failing, to flirt.”
“You don’t know how serious it is, maybe this was a first date and it’ll go horribly. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about, he was just saying the other day that Lily and I make him feel painfully single. We can ask him about it on Monday!”
You frowned a bit and tried to recover, but Oscar noticed the way your face fell slightly. “I’m actually taking a few days off, I need some personal time. I won’t be back at MTC until Wednesday.”
“Is everything ok? You don’t have to tell me but if you need anything, you know I’m there for you, right?”
You smiled at Oscar – it was a rare thing to find such great friends in the people you worked with, but you got so incredibly lucky with the McLaren team, especially Lando and Oscar. “I know that, Osc. You’re a gem.”
With a nod of understanding, Oscar changed the subject to something more pleasant, and you enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friend.
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When Wednesday morning rolled around, you felt like your stomach might explode from nerves. You had resisted texting Lando over the past few days to ask about his date, you didn’t want to seem too eager and hoped it would come up naturally in conversation during the day. You hadn’t talked to Oscar much, though he’d texted you a few times to check in, but you wondered if he had talked to Lando at all and if he had details on how well Lando’s date went.
You arrived at MTC fairly early, hoping to get a head start on your day. Winter break was nearly over, and you were swamped with finalizing everything for the start of the 2024 season. It wasn’t until lunch that you saw Lando at all and he just so happened to be waiting in your office, sitting comfortably in your chair, while you were walking back from your latest meeting.
“Lando! What are you doing here?”
“I, uh,” he scrambled. “I was just…I don’t know really. I guess I wanted to see you, we haven’t talked in a few days since you’ve been out.”
“Well, we’ve both been busy. You could’ve texted me. How was your date?”
“It was good. Great. How about yours?”
You smiled remembering your evening with Oscar, assuming he had told Lando at some point that he had accompanied you. “Honestly so fun, we had the best time. I hope we get to do it again soon.”
Lando cringed – jealousy rearing its ugly head as he looked down at his feet before answering. “Same, I’ll probably go out with her again this weekend.”
“Good for you,” you gritted. “I’m glad you had fun. I actually have a million things to do so if there’s nothing important…”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to see you. I guess we’ll catch up soon? Hope you enjoyed your days off.”
Mustering up a fake smile, you told him definitely, awkwardly standing as he rose from your desk and left your office. As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, you groaned. The tension between you and Lando was unbearable, though you didn’t understand why it seemed to mostly be coming from him. Before you had a chance to think any further, you could hear your phone buzzing from inside your bag and begrudgingly pulled it out to see a text from Oscar.
did you go on a date over the weekend?
no? why are you asking me that?
well then why did lando just sit across from me and say ‘did Y/N tell you anything about her date?’
he was just in my office, I asked him how his date went and he asked about ‘mine’. i assumed he was talking about Friday and that you told him i brought you?
i never told him, i guess he thought you brought a real date?
You paused before responding to Oscar, confusion evident on your face and in your lack of response. Before you could type out a reply, two more texts came in.
ok something is up because i just told him that i went with you on friday and he said “i know, i saw you in her insta story in the reflection of a wine glass, i’m talking about yesterday”
insane that he looked close enough to see me in your wine glass but not the point
i literally haven’t been on a date in two years
let me figure this out
You slid your phone back into your bag and pulled out your laptop – your Lando problems would have to wait until you were at least somewhat caught up after missing two days so close to the start of the season.
Meanwhile, at a conference room table in MTC, Oscar was confused. Which, as of late, was a common occurrence when it came to you and Lando.
“Mate,” Oscar addressed Lando, “if you’re not talking about Friday, what date did you ask Y/N about? She hasn’t been on a date in forever.”
“Well then he must have canceled on her because she was supposed to have plans yesterday, it’s why she took days off.”
“I don’t know the exact reason why she took days off but she told me on Friday that she was and didn’t seem too happy about it. Said it was personal reasons.”
“Going on a date is personal.”
“Not ‘take two days off of work’ personal! Where are you even getting this information?”
Lando looked away sheepishly, afraid to admit to Oscar that he had eavesdropped on a private conversation between you and Zak. With Oscar looking at him expectantly, and a bit like a pissed-off Mum, he blurted it out.
“I heard her talking to Zak! Last week on Friday, when I was looking for her, she was in his office and the door was cracked. She had asked him for a couple days off and talked about how she recently started seeing someone and was seeing him again on Tuesday aka yesterday.”
Now Oscar was really confused. You had cried over Lando publicly on Friday, and he knew you fairly well, which meant there was no way you would be crying over Lando and going out with someone else four days later.
“I think you need to just talk to her because I promise you, she is not seeing someone. Also, what do you care? You ditched her for a date on Friday.”
Oscar had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Lando’s face fall.
“Lando, tell me you didn’t.”
“I might have.”
“Jesus, Lando, you heard 30 seconds of a conversation and decided to lie to her? Because what, your ego took a blow? Some caveman instinct?”
“No, I don’t know, honestly. It just slipped out! I had planned to ask her out for real and when I heard her say ‘I’m seeing someone’, I just didn’t know how to be around her. I couldn’t be around her that night.”
“You need to go talk to her. Apologize. Preferably, immediately.”
Lando jumped up from his seat and sighed. “You’re right. She might kill me, and she has every right to, but I have to talk to her and apologize to her. Wish me luck!”
Before Oscar could do what Lando had asked, Lando raced off towards your office, barely stopping himself from tripping over his own two feet.
Across MTC, you had just settled your mind and gotten into a groove of catching up on emails and making progress on deadlines. As soon as you thought to yourself that the day was going better than expected, your office door flung open and Lando Norris was standing stiff in your doorway.
“Lan, I told you that I’m busy. What is going on?” Annoyance was evident in your voice and Lando cringed knowing that this conversation was probably not going to be very pleasant.
“Why did you take time off?”
Your body straightened in shock, of all the things he could have asked you after bombarding you in your office, you wouldn’t have guessed he would pry into your personal life.
“That’s none of your business, Lando. If you were worried about me, you could have reached out, but I haven’t heard from you since you ditched me on Friday.”
Lando could see the hurt on your face, he could see it evident in your body language. He thought back to how you had looked upset immediately when he told you on Friday that he couldn’t go with you – when he told himself it had nothing to do with you wanting to spend time with him.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry for that, it wasn’t – I mean I didn’t, I didn’t want to not go. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Ok, I’m totally lost. You didn’t know what to do about what, Lando?”
He steeled himself for your reaction – something he had learned by being your friend for the past year was that you held trust and truth in high regard. You didn’t like being lied to, and you didn’t like people trying to dig into your life or get information you weren’t willing to share.
“I heard you in Zak’s office. I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, I swear, I was looking for you because you were late meeting me. Oscar told me you might be with Zak so I went there and the door was open. And I heard you. So I lied and told you that I couldn’t go to dinner, I don’t know why I said I had a date. All I could focus on was how hurt I was, I just couldn’t be around you and then I felt so stupid and terrible for lying so that’s why I didn’t text you at all.”
You were completely and utterly perplexed – you couldn’t even react with anger at the thought of Lando listening to a private conversation and outright lying to you. What could he have overheard that he was so upset about?
“Lando, I’m still confused. What did you hear? How did I hurt you?”
“No, no, you didn’t hurt me. You have no idea how I feel about you – I was going to tell you that night.” Lando was word-vomiting at this point, he never wanted you to find out this way but he couldn’t stop rambling. “I have had feelings for you for so long, and I finally decided that I was going to tell you even if I was convinced you don’t feel the same. And now I know you don’t because you’re seeing someone and – ”
You interrupted him sternly, allowing the anger you were feeling to come forth and shoving down your confusion. “I’m not dating anyone? Is that why you asked Oscar about my ‘date’? Where did you get that idea?”
“You told Zak that you’re seeing someone and that it’s new but things are going good. I heard you say you were seeing him again on Tuesday.”
Your eyes doubled in size – if you weren’t so pissed off, you might have found humor in this, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks and your stomach churned at the thought of divulging your personal struggles.
“Lando, I’m seeing a therapist,” you hissed.
He froze for a moment, then scrambled to shut your door which was still ajar from him barging in.
“A therapist? Are you okay? What’s going on, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been struggling?”
“No, no, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to make me less angry by being kind and caring.”
“I’m not doing it to make you less angry, Y/N, I genuinely – ”
“I don’t care, Lando! You eavesdropped on my private conversation, misunderstood the context of that conversation, and then you lied to me. You hurt me. And now, because you got your feelings hurt and did things you shouldn’t have done, I have to share something I wasn’t comfortable sharing with you just yet.”
Lando was speechless – you could see the remorse on his face, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but in that moment you wanted him to feel even worse than you were.
“And you want to know the worst part,” you cried. “I feel the same way about you. I cried to Oscar at dinner because I thought you were with someone else, that you would have rather been at dinner with a different girl.”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Can we please just go somewhere and talk? Really talk this out? I know I messed up, but this doesn’t have to change things or how we feel about each other.”
You wanted to, god, did you want to – you knew Lando hadn’t done any of this on purpose. You knew he didn’t have malicious intent and you knew how hurt he probably felt at the idea of you being with someone – it was exactly the way you felt when you thought the same about him.
“I think you should go, Lan”. Despite every part of you wanting to sit and talk, you knew that you needed some time to settle down.
“Ok,” he whispered. “When you’re ready,” he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, “if you’re ever ready, you know where to find me.”
His posture made you feel sick as he left your office – Lando was always confident, shoulders back and head held high, but as you watched him through the glass walls surrounding you, he was hunched over. Dejected. You’d only ever seen him that way a few times – after he was torn apart by the media or after making a mistake during a race.
It hurt you to see him that way. But, he had also hurt you, and you needed time.
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It had been two weeks since “the incident” with Lando – that’s what Oscar started calling it and it stuck. Fight felt too strong, disagreement felt too weak, so it became something nameless. Undefined. Indeterminate. Exactly like what existed now between you and Lando.
Oscar and Lando were set to leave for Sakhir in a week and you wouldn’t see them again until you joined the team for the Australian GP. If you didn’t work things out with Lando before they left for testing, it would be well over a month without a resolution.
The thought made your eyes burn with tears – you were still upset but more than that you missed Lando. You didn’t even have to wonder if he felt the same because you’d seen him around MTC. He looked just as awful as you, if not worse, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to start a conversation.
You began packing up your things to leave the office, grateful beyond belief that it was a Friday and you’d have two days without seeing Lando’s familiar curls everywhere you turned. At least at home, you would only see them behind closed eyes and wouldn’t have to blink back tears.
A knock at your door startled you, but you assumed it was your team lead looking for your latest analytics report. At least there was one thing you could be happy about – the car data was phenomenal and all signs were pointing to an amazing season for McLaren.
You told whoever was knocking to come in, not looking up from your bag as you rifled through your files. “So sorry, Tom, I meant to bring this to you earlier but I – ”
A throat clearing cut you off, and you looked up to see Lando standing in your doorway with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and one of those cheesy “I’m sorry” balloons in his left hand. You almost giggled, but then you looked at his face and your heart dropped. Dark circles under red-rimmed eyes - he looked awful. 
“I know you said you’d reach out when you’re ready to talk, and I wanted to respect that and give you all the space you need. But, we’re both miserable. At least I think you’re miserable, I know I am. I miss you terribly. I miss my friend. And if that’s all you’ll ever be to me, I can respect that and I will cherish it because the past week has been the worst week of my life.”
“Lando, I – ”
“Please, please let me get all of this out. Please let me apologize.”
You smiled slightly, nodding your head for him to continue.
“I’m sorry for invading your privacy. It wasn’t on purpose but I should have left as soon as I heard you talking because I know how important trust is to you. I violated yours and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. It doesn’t matter if I was hurt, I could’ve just said I wasn’t feeling well or asked you about what I overheard immediately. After apologizing for overhearing, of course. I’m sorry that it took Oscar talking sense into me for me to come to you in the first place. I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry that I behaved like a child instead of talking to you about my feelings. My actions made you feel forced to tell me something personal that you weren’t ready to share. I’m so sorry, and I hope you know that I’m here for you always.”
He let out a deep breath and you watched his shoulders relax slightly for the first time in two weeks. You knew he was sorry – you’d known how sorry he was immediately when he started explaining and apologizing the first time around, but you just weren’t ready to hear it yet.
“Thank you, Lan,” you whispered as you walked towards him and took his free hand in your own. “I know you’re sorry and I know that this was all a misunderstanding that just got out of hand.”
“I am also sorry for springing my feelings on you. I wanted to tell you properly, ask you out properly, but I couldn’t explain myself without telling you. I ruined everything, it was woefully unromantic.”
“Yeah, that was a bit shit, I didn’t get my big grand gesture or anything.”
Lando’s eyes grew wide, a hopeful gleam in them. “I mean, would you – is that something you would still want? I don’t want to pressure you and I don’t want to assume that you still feel the same.”
“I do,” you said softly. “But, I think we should work on really moving past this before we officially jump into anything more.”
“I completely agree. However, I do have a reservation for two in about forty minutes to make up for ditching you, if you’d like to join me? Otherwise, I’ll have to bring Oscar. He won’t stop talking about the cheese garlic bread.”
“No, Lando, you don’t understand. He ordered three baskets. I went home and typed an apology email to Zak for ruining his diet.”
You both erupted in giggles, leaning into each other for support and out of habit. It felt so good to laugh, the weight and stress of the past two weeks rolling off in waves as Lando’s shoulder bumped yours and you heard the unmistakable laughter that you’d come to love so much.
“Maybe we should bring him anyway,” you pondered. “He’s been an exceptionally good friend to us both the past couple of weeks.”
“He can come next time, I’d like you to myself for the evening. If that’s ok?”
“More than ok, Lan. I’ve really missed you.”
He leaned in quickly, kissing your cheek gently and then nuzzling his nose against your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume he’d gifted you for your last birthday. “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he objected, his eyes glimmering slightly. Wet eyelashes fluttered against your neck as he stayed tucked into your side for a few more moments.
“We’re going to be late,” you whispered, with a sincere lack of urgency.
“Can we go back to my hotel room instead? Watch a movie and order in? Jus’ wanna hold you.”
Your heart constricted – as much as you wanted to tease him and say he owed you a night out and your favorite meal, you wanted nothing more than to spend the night in Lando’s arms.
“Of course, Lan. I think I need that too.”
On the way to Lando’s car, you passed Oscar who gave you both a knowing smile and a short wave. If you asked him if he had been waiting for you guys to leave, he would deny it. He would deny being so invested in your reconciliation that he waited close to an hour after he could leave for the day to make sure you were both ok. He would also deny that he tracked both of you and when it dawned on him that you were skipping your dinner, he sped to that little Italian place and stole your reservation for an order (or two) of cheese garlic bread.
He couldn’t resist sending a poorly taken picture to the group chat with the three of you and you burst out laughing when you opened it.
“Lan, Oscar somehow stole our dinner res,” you giggled, turning your phone to show Lando an unmistakable basket of bread and a follow-up text with several heart emojis.
Lando held his phone up to snap a quick selfie of you two cuddled up in bed, him leaning in for the second time that evening to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. Almost immediately after it delivered, your phones lit up with another text from Oscar.
HOT DATE FR THIS TIME?
You and Lando looked at each other and smiled, the mutual understanding of where you stood with your feelings evident.
not quite yet, but soon :)
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promtease · 3 months
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Astarion loves to take baths with you.
It's one of his favorite ways to spend his downtime in general, honestly. Not only is the bath such a soothing place to be (you know once this man has the option, he's going to splurge on a vast collection of luxury soaps, oils, hair masks, and body scrubs- the list goes on.), but there's just something about it that makes him feel so normal? Mortal, almost.
If he lets himself soak just long enough, the heat from the water begins to nullify the vampiric chill that he's grown ever so used to. It's a pleasant warmth that works its way past pale skin- past tired muscles and aching sinew- and settles down deep into his very bones. For a few precious moments, he can convince himself that the eternal discomfort of undeath has made off for good this time.
And his hair always looks spectacular after wash day. It's a win-win scenario for him. So for his favorite person to be involved as well? Well, that just makes it all the more better.
-
This time, you're lounging on the floor nearby as he soaks- having stuck around after washing his hair for him as he oh-so-kindly requested of you. He's still a bit new at asking for small acts of kindness, so of course, you jumped at the chance to put your hands to good use. You were so careful not to catch your fingers on any snags as you worked a sweet-smelling soap through his wet curls, nails scrubbing away at his scalp even after it's all rinsed away just to hear him purr for you.
You're leaning against the bath, cheek cushioned against your forearm as it rests along the edge. The other swirls idly in the water- kept heated by clever use of prestidigitation (you'd recently picked up this cantrip for purposes such as this) and softened by the finest oils stolen gold could purchase. The curtains in your room are carefully drawn, and although your source of light comes from the multitude of candles scattered about, it's still enough to see the nice flush the heat brings to his skin. It's a little odd to see him so pinkened, and obviously, you can't help but stare no matter how hard you try not to.
It's the blood- your blood- that's pooling beneath the surface of his skin and giving him this radiance that many a man would covet.
Rose blooms a pretty bouquet on the smooth skin of his chest, up the length of his bared throat as he rests his head, and even reaches the tips of the pointy ears you so adore. Gods, even his knuckles are pinker when he reaches a hand out of the water to push his hair away from his forehead, and your gaze immediately follows the trail of soapy water as it glides down his wrist- drip-drops from his elbow and back into the bath.
Astarion looks so... peaceful like this.
Pale lashes rest upon warm cheeks as he reclines, face fallen soft, similar to how it does when he's deep in trance. A part of you wonders if this is how he might have looked back some two hundred years ago, before the affliction that was bestowed upon him by his old (now deceased, you celebrate mentally) master.
Eyes of ruby open just a crack, and you know that smug smile is coming before his lips so much as twitch.
"You know, my dear, most people consider staring to be rather rude." He purrs.
You're proud to say you don't miss a beat.
"Good thing you're nothing like most people then, hm?" Quick wit- a developing side effect from the many days spent traveling with the cheekiest rogue in all of Faerûn.
Quick as you may be– he is quicker. 
"Ah, right you are. Most people aren't nearly as beautiful as I am– one can hardly blame you for all of your slack-jawed gawping."
A half-huffed laugh is pulled out of you. Astarion loves to pretend he isn't just as delighted by your glossy-eyed admiring as he is amused.
And here you are again, suddenly distracted by the slightest bounce of silver curls when he tilts his head to watch your smile hit your eyes. His hair looks a bit longer when it's weighed down by bathwater and conditioning oils, almost to the point where some bits just barely brush his shoulders. You're so mesmerized that you have to touch him. The hand that's been playing in the water comes up to brush a few nearly translucent hairs away from where they've stuck to the curve of his neck, lingering afterward to carefully trace a finger down to his collarbone as you continue your oggle-fest.
Only just a moment longer, you tell yourself, and then you'll leave him be.
Yet, he doesn't let you pull away too far when you've finished. A deft hand comes up from the depths to capture yours the second you think about leaving him to his privacy, and you nearly jump at the unfamiliar temperature of its grasp.
He's warm.
Almost warmer than you, and it's honestly kind of jarring.
Astarion's still sporting that smile, although a bit kinder than before. If you weren't watching so closely, you'd miss how his eyes flash, uncharacteristically shy for just a moment before that heavy-lidded stare is set back in place. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, petal-soft lips resting against the damp heel of your palm in a not-so-kiss.
They press for a long moment, and you can feel the appreciative hum he gives more than you can hear it. It occurs to you that he's probably just as dazed at your matching temperatures as you are.
"Get in here, darling." The command comes out as more of a question, really. You know in your heart that you have every right to refuse him if you really want to and that he wouldn't even consider holding it against you if you did.
But why in the hells would you ever do a thing as silly as that?
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animehideout · 3 months
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JJK Men Green And Red Flags Part 4
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
Geto Suguru
Green Flags:
Has a calming voice, even his presence alone brings you peace.
Bestfriend like in a relationship.
He's motivated and got big dreams ( killing monkeys).
Open to try new things sexual and nonsexual.
Treats you like a princess.
Makes you feel safe all the time.
Gives the best hugs ( I mean have you seen his arms?)
Comforts your anxieties/ nightmares.
Has a childish side ( child at heart ) even though he's calm most of the time.
Good at planning dates ( most of them trying new food).
Smells good.
Wants to get a matching tattoo with you.
Knows exactly what to do during intimate / sexual moments.
Red Flags:
Would put his work / goals before you.
Distance himself out of nowhere.
Hides his feelings ( if he's sad / depressed) wouldn't talk about it.
Has no respect for people who can't defend themselves ( he believes he's superior than them).
Very selective it could get toxic.
Gives excuses for his bad deeds.
Could be controlling.
Needs to know your whereabouts 24/7.
Convinced that he always makes the right choices / decisions.
Doesn't realize his mistakes.
Craves power over love.
Can be manipulative to get what he wants.
Nanami Kento
Green Flags:
MATURE AF.
Husband material.
Shares household chores.
Enjoys simple dates as long as you're together ( takes you to the beach ).
Gives you time to heal and helps you in the process of healing.
Supportive.
Wouldn't judge your past.
Spoils you.
Reads you his favorite books.
Respects your privacy and choices.
Admits his mistakes and tries to fix them.
You can rely on him in literally everything.
Dates to marry.
Very committed in relationships.
Asks for consent.
Trust you fully.
Loyal.
Red Flags:
Doesn't get your jokes and gets offended.
Very serious ( daddy chill ).
Gets angry if you prank him or do something stupid / weird.
Overworks himself ( he hates it tho ).
Could be unenthusiastic.
Overly strict in relationships.
Gets angry if you don't do your duties towards him.
Gets overly worried about you (wouldn't let you go out at night alone).
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Note
of course, no problem!! and im sorry my english💓 reader is a very calm and kind person. he never heard her raise her voice, other than speaking normally calmly. oscar or max have never seen her angry, but the reader gets angry at something or someone, things don't go her way and he sees her angry side for the first time.
A Voice To Fear - Max Verstappen
Schumacher!reader (Ralf Schumacher's daughter) x Max Verstappen
Want to put a twist on it using a Schumacher, just bc I want there to kind of be a lot of attention on the relationship for this fic. Hope that's ok, it's what I'm running with.
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Max has always been quite protective over his quiet girlfriend who has always been fairly softly spoken and kept most of her more explicit thoughts to herself. They're even very rarely shared with Max.
The two have known each other for years with Max growing up close to the Schumacher's, he's never seen y/n raise her voice once unless out of excitement in a squeal.
Since their relationship became public, there's been an obsession and with y/n being already has quite the following as a public figure who has pretty amazing fashion and is a bit of an icon to many of the fans. A lot of them even have a crush on her and couple have even been a little too obsessive over her.
The media have hassled her but much like Max, she's not so bothered about answering their intrusive questions or catering to their attempts of provoking her into telling them something that simply isn't true.
"Y/n, Max was wondering when you'd get here." Christian chuckles as the young woman appears in the paddock with a few of the photographers snapping pictures of her. "You know I had more people from Sky asking if I could convince you to become a guest presenter for the broadcast."
Y/n smiles awkward smile says it all and Max laughs from his spot next her while moving to pull her into a light kiss.
"You're beginning to be a woman in high demand, no?" Max jokes earning an eye roll from the young lady. "How was your call with your dad?"
"It was ok. I told him I'd speak to Mick, he's in the Mercedes garage so I'll probably go over in a bit." Y/n sighs while Christian seems to shift over to give the couple time without him.
"Not the enemy." Max jokes earning a grin before she leans forward kissing him again but he frowns when she pulls away. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, just Sky aren't the only ones hassling me." Y/n shrugs with a slightly exhausted expression watching his frown deepen. "It's fine. I just wish people didn't expect me to be part of the sport in that way. I'm dating you because I think you're an amazing guy. Not because you're a F1 driver."
"But it adds to the charm?"
"You're a moron."
Max grins at her before nodding as he gently cups her face.
"But you are ok, right? You'd tell me if things weren't ok." Max questions earning a nod of reassurance from the young woman. "You can tell me, I'll handle it."
Y/n just smiles shaking her head since she is always dismissive of these matters.
-
If there's one thing y/n has no interest in, it's being apart of Drive To Survive. She could handle the Sky representatives trying to talk her into helping present but when a Netflix producer comes along to bother her.
"I'm sorry, I just don't want to be involved in anything like this." Y/n states gesturing to the cameras that are very on her.
Anxiety and annoyance is building rapidly in her chest as they remain insistent on essentially breaking her down till she's pliable into agreement.
"Sweetheart, you would just be the perfect person to add your story-"
Then something...snaps.
"Story? What story? I don't want to be apart of your stupid fucking show that creates false narratives and invades on moments that are just not meant for the fucking cameras. So leave me alone. I said no!"
The fast paced bodies in the paddock have frozen. Not only shocked by the volume of someone in the paddock. But specifically the fact the the volume came from the one of the most quiet and happy people from within the F1 community.
Eyes burn through her and the producer who is too stunned to speak.
"Y/n?" A voice calls making her finally knock from her silent glare at the man before she feels a familiar hand link with her own and a warm buzz shoots hums through her, calming her almost in an instant and somewhat slapping her with the reality of what she said. "Come on."
The paddock slowly moves getting back to their business but the whispers of shock over y/n's voice and words are clearly a new talking point. No doubt they'll be headlines and posts online within the hour about it all.
By the time they get into a private room with no audience, Max looks at her but she just dodges his gaze and bites her lip keeping her eyes anywhere else.
"Y/n-"
"Please. I don't want to talk about it." Y/n sighs them groaning and rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, a slight tremble in her hands. "I think I'm just going to go back to the hotel. If that's ok?"
"Can we talk about it later?" Max asks earning a sigh before she nods a little. "Ok, go on. Do you want someone to go with you?"
"No. I'm ok." Y/n murmurs earning a nod as he leans over and kisses her forward.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
-
"Is y/n ok?" One of the reporters asks as Max stands in the media pit after qualifying.
"She's ok. But perhaps people will learn their lesson to leave her alone." Max states not hiding how unimpressed he is about the whole event.
He doesn't waste much time after that and after a very brief debrief, he heads out. He got pole position so it's not exactly as if much needed to be said.
When he gets back to the hotel, he finds y/n looking guilty and frazzled as she lies in the bath.
"You look so beautiful." Max sighs as he sits beside the tub and she turns to look at him. "Are you ok?"
"I don't know what happened to me. I just feel like I have nothing going on." Y/n mutters then rubbing her hands over her face while Max sighs. "I can't believe I shouted. I never shout. I never get angry like that."
"Y/n, you are allowed to get angry and shout when someone upsets you and won't leave you alone." Max frowns before he looks at her for a moment. "Y/n, I am proud of you for saying what needed to be said and they aren't going to bother you again. I think that much is clear from today."
"But I was...that wasn't how I am."
"No one is expecting you to go around viciously shouting unprovoked at everyone you come across now." Max smiles then sighing as she gives him a deadpanned look. "You made it clear you have no intentions to take shit from them. Your name and your relationship doesn't make you obligated to be a puppet for them."
Y/n's lip quivers since really she can always trust Max to understand and to make sure that there's no crime in not wanting a life that put under a microscope. Some people would say she does it to herself because she dresses well and she does date Max. But why is it fair for someone to dictate what she does and doesn't get to do?
"I love you...you always...make it better." Y/n sighs then tilting her head. "Can you get me a towel? I think I'm ready to get out now."
Max smiles, kissing on top of her head as he stands up and moves to pick up a towel as she stands up from the depth of the water. He does look at her for a brief moment, entirely obsessed with seeing her in all her glory.
"Stop staring."
"Will you shout at me if I don't? It wasn't the most unattractive thing to see you like that." Max smirks while holding his hand out to aid her getting out the bath without injury before wrapping the towel around her. "I love you too, every side of you, every volume and every emotion."
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bookshelf-dust · 11 months
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healing
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billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 5,445
warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??
a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333
————
November 1985
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 
Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 
“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 
She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”
The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”
Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 
“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”
Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 
“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 
Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 
It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 
You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 
Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 
But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.
There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 
Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 
You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 
He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 
When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”
He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 
“Hey. Glad your test is over?”
That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”
You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 
“You have work today?”
Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 
Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 
“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 
You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”
The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 
“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 
The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 
“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 
“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.
“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 
Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 
Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 
“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”
“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”
Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 
Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 
He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 
You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 
He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 
When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 
Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 
He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 
“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 
He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 
“Besides what?” 
You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 
Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 
“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 
“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 
“You know what.”
“I want you to go.”
“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”
————
The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 
Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 
She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 
Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 
You and Billy. 
You and Billy Hargrove.
Sharing a room. 
Sharing a bed. 
Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 
“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 
“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”
That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”
You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?
“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”
He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”
He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 
“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”
You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 
“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”
You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 
“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 
You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”
Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 
“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”
You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 
Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”
You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 
“Really?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 
“Yeah, baby.”
Baby. 
It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 
And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.
“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”
“Mhm. Thought so.” 
This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.
“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.
When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 
You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 
You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 
Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 
“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.
————
Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 
“Right hand blue.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”
Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 
“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”
“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 
He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 
Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 
He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 
“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”
“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 
“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”
You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 
“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 
You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”
Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 
The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 
It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 
————
You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 
He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 
When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 
You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 
He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.
“C’mere then.”
You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”
“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”
“Billy.”
“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 
Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 
He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 
“Yeah.” 
Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 
“Yes.” 
He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.
Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 
He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 
“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 
You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 
“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 
“You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 
It’s just me. 
“Do they hurt at all?”
Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 
“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”
You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 
He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 
“Goodnight, Billy.”
He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 
“Goodnight, baby.”
————
When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.
Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 
You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 
Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 
Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 
You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 
“Sleep okay?” she asks. 
“Mhm. You?”
“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 
You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 
“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”
You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”
“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”
You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”
“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 
“Oh my god.”
“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”
“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”
“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 
“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 
Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 
He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 
“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”
————
Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 
It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 
It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 
You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 
“Whatcha doin’?” 
Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm.”
“I can go back inside, if you want.”
Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 
“Okay.” 
He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 
“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”
“I understand, Billy.” 
You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 
“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 
“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”
He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 
Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 
When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 
He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 
“You motherfucker!” 
You get him back, and he’s laughing. 
Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.
You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 
“Billy!”
“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 
You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 
When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 
“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”
You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 
He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 
He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.
Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.
It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 
When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.
Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“I know,” you respond.
He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 
“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”
“Damn right you are.”
You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 
“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 
“So much for that,” Billy says.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
————
“I’m regretting this, Billy.”
“Stop whining.”
Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 
“Get off.”
“No.”
“Get off, please.”
“Make me.” 
There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.
He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”
And you’d do it again. 
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Shut up and take it.”
By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.
You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 
He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 
He’s never had this before.
Hell, you’ve never had this before. 
And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 
You’re healing him. You. 
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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azrielwingspan · 19 days
Text
SOON (THEO NOTT X READER)
Summary : Theodore Nott was just another Slytherin asshole to most of Hogwarts. But to you, he was something much much more.
Themes : Mild kissing and swearing.
A/N : This is my first Theo fic AHHH. Just thought I would give it a shot. Let me know how it is!
P.S.- This is strictly a one shot. There will be no part 2.
"He is quite charming isn't he?" Ginny commented sneaking a glance at Theodore Nott. Seated at the Slytherin table between his usual rowdy gang of friends, he smirked at something Lorenzo had said.
"I think the word you're looking for is enigmatic, Gin. For all we know, he could be Voldemort in disguise." you stated flatly, stabbing a piece of potato on your plate. Earning a smack on the arm for using You-know-who's name so boldly, you ignored Ginny's attempts at convincing you to attend the party being thrown tonight.
"Help me understand why you're so bloody against the idea?! Is it because you have to bring a date?" she raised her eyebrows in question.
"That may be a part of the reason." you refused to meet her owl like stare, instead choosing to focus on the copy of the Daily Prophet in front of you.
"Why would that be an issue ? I can name five people off the top of my head who would say yes instantly." she prodded further, thankfully choosing to redirect her gaze towards the mail she'd received. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, you snuck a glance at Theodore again. The sleeves of his uniform were rolled upto his elbow and you greedily took in the sight of his veiny forearms.
"What are you looking at?" Ginny broke you out of the reverie, your eyes immediately flitting towards the shawl Pansy was wearing.
"Pansy's new shawl. I can't recall which store I've seen it in but it looks very familiar." The lie rolled out smoothly, misleading Ginny. The pang of guilt ,that never lessened in impact, hit you yet again.
"Oh. Yeah, it does look quite familiar now that you mention it." She went off on a tangent about clothes and you let out a relieved sigh.
Ginny couldn't know. Not for now atleast.
The morning went on, your focus elsewhere during most of the classes. Ginny hadn't brought up the party again but you knew it was unavoidable. You were definitely acting quite strange. Not being the one to turn down an invite, your sudden refusal to attend this massive party did come as a surprise to your friends.
You had your reasons. Utterly selfish reasons.
However as the evening rolled by, Ginny had cornered you into agreeing. On bringing up the issue of the date, she'd simply shrugged and said "I took care of it."
That did not sound very reassuring.
It was worse than you had expected.
"CORMAC MC FUCKIN LAGGEN ?!?" you hissed at Ginny , your back to the boy in question.
Ginny looked away sheepishly and said "He told Hermione who told me that he had a thing for you. So I thought you guys could talk? I mean you don't have to really. Just drop him off in a corner."
"Drop him---" pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, you whipped around to face Laggen and gave him a saccharine smile.
"Nice to meet you Laggen but I'm not interested."
He looked astounded, trying to wrap his head around the rejection. After a few seconds, he managed to sputter out "We haven't talked yet. How can you--"
"Yes. Yes I can. You have my permission to tell everyone I'm your date but please don't approach me again. Bye." you sauntered off into the party, Ginny keeping up behind you.
"Where's Harry anyways?" you asked, straining your neck to see past the crowd.
"Running late. Neville set his pants on fire so Ron and Harry are helping him out."
Shaking your head in amusement, you let your eyes run around the room searching for him.
There.
Theo sat on the couch near the fireplace, one arm thrown around the back , a glass of amber liquid in the other. The smoke from Mattheo's cigarette made his figure hazy.
"I'm gonna go grab a drink." Ginny said her voice floating by. You nodded distractedly , your attention held captive by Theo.
As if sending your presence behind him , he turned his head around and met your eyes. Slight confusion marred his face making his eyebrows furrow. He hadn’t expected you to be here.
Signalling to you with a quick nod of his head, he excused himself from his group of friends and made his way to his dorms. You stayed down for a couple more minutes , getting yourself a drink to throw off suspicion.
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d come tonight. Ginny change your mind?” Pansy popped out of the blue , startling you.
“Uh.. Pansy, hey. Yeah you know how Gin is.” Pansy was a bit of a talker. Aware that this conversation could go on forever , you tried to come up with an excuse. “Hey listen, I’ve got to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll find you again alright?”
Not waiting for a response , you made your way in the direction of the bathrooms and took a sharp turn in the opposite direction once you made sure Pansy had redirected her attention. Sneaking up the stairway to the boys dorm, you took a moment for yourself outside Theo’s dorm room, straightening out your clothes.
“Took you long enough.” His voice drawled as you entered his room, the familiar surroundings providing a sense of comfort.
“Pansy almost started a conversation.” You said laughing lightly at his wide eyed expression.
“Didn’t take you long then.” He corrected his previous statement , prowling towards you.
“No. I guess it didn’t.”
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you into a searing kiss that had you holding onto his shirt for balance. The words 'I missed you' played at the tip of your tongue struggling to be let out.
He nipped at your lower lip , a breathy sigh leaving you as you tangled your hands in his hair.
"Cormac Mc fuckin Laggen? Seriously?" Theo muttered , lowering his head to place soft kisses across your jaw. Leaning your head back to give him more access, you let out a soft laugh. "That's exactly what I said. Ginny is the real culprit."
A strangled moan left your lips as he sucked at your neck, immediately soothing it with a sloppy kiss. "T-Theo..you idiot. That's gonna leave a mark." He just hummed in response seemingly lost in the pleasure. Tugging his head back, you made him meet your gaze head on.
"If we stay up here for any longer, they'll suspect." A shiver passed through you as his hands trailed lower and cupped you arse, pulling your hips to his. "Let them." he said dropping his head to capture your lips once more.
"THEO, YOU IN THERE ??" Blaise Zabini's voice boomed through the door making you jump. A string of Italian curses left Theo's mouth as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Yeah give me a minute!"
Cupping your face in his hands, he leaned down to your face placing you at eye level. "It'll all be over soon alright? We won't have to hide anymore. We can be free." The promise in his eyes lit a spark of hope within you, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.
"Soon." you whispered , your eyes fluttering shut as you placed a kiss on his Dark Mark.
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tesalicious2 · 1 year
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Gothamites are just a different breed of people. They literally could not give a single f*ck about anything. There attitude is ‘eh, not impressed’ mixed with ‘been there don that’ and ‘try harder’.
It’s bad but no one knows how bad until they move there. I’m convinced everyone who lives in Crime Alley has had there parents/grandparents live there, while the less dangerous parts of Gotham see more new faces. They don’t stay long but they pop up.
Batman doesn’t let the Justice League to Gotham and I think that’s fair. They are all to bright and happy. Everyone is so angsty it’s amazing. He doesnt let them in for their own protection. Mostly since they all thinks he’s dramatic. But he knows that that relaxed manner is going to get them hurt.
The only vigilante that has zero haters (besides criminals) is Red Hood. Like, he control the most dangerous part of Gotham every night, walks kids/girls/teens/anyone-who-asks home, regularly buys food for the homeless, reads to kids at the library at night/near closing, stops robberies, sometimes teaches people self defense, and tries to be really quiet bc the walls are thin.
Either him or Signal bc he’s a daytime hero and everyone loves him. Nice, new, and will help out work the mundane stuff.
That being said, the rest are liked too but so have their haters. Despite this, there are websites and videos of them all doing cute and funny stuff or the gothamites doing nice stuff for them.
There is a video of someone giving Spoiler an umbrella, she returned it the next day. Someone managed to find everyone and give them their own hand sewn plushies, and their reaction.
Mostly starting with them on a rooftop of a building, a person calls out. “Yo! (Insert name)! Come here real quick!”
They go over and the person pulls out the plushie.
Batman: *stares for a moment* thank you. Did you make this? The workman ship is amazing.
Nightwing: awwwww! This is so nice, thank you!
Red hood: imma admit it, this is the greatest moment of my entire life. Now, you are in a very bad part of Gotham and need to get to bed. I’ll walk you.
Red Robin: i adore this. I will keep it with me till I die.
Robin: *brain cannot compute* Umm…Thank you very much. Honestly, no idea what to say right now
Spoiler: AWWWW, my first fan anything! I love this! Do you have an Instagram or something? I have to follow you! Let me buy you food!
Black Bat: *squished it once, looks up, Higgs it to her, then motions to hug the creator, they hug*
Signal: ummm, thank you? ive never had to deal with this before. I love it so much! Thank you!
(Can’t believe o forgot Batgirl)
Batgirl: This is so sweet! Thank you! *gives the biggest hug known to man*
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fuckyeahisawthat · 7 months
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I think Crowley falls into two of the classic pitfalls of people who see that the problems are systemic long before anyone else around them does: impatience and despair.
(Yes yes I know, “Crowley was an optimist.” Book Crowley is an optimist. I don’t think that line is particularly useful for analyzing TV Crowley. Stay with me here.)
Let it be said that 95% of the time, Crowley has the patience of a fucking saint (ssh don’t tell him) around Aziraphale. He knows that Aziraphale needs to build his little plausible deniability rationales in order to do something that they both know he wants to do (because it’s right or simply because he would enjoy it) but Heaven wouldn’t approve of. And most of the time, Crowley is happy to help Aziraphale get there, asking the questions Aziraphale is afraid to ask, offering excuses and justifications until Aziraphale finds one he can accept. He does a lot of work of parsing out when “no” means “you haven’t convinced me yet, keep trying” and pushing through all the “I’m an angel, you’re a demon, we’re on opposite sides and mine is the good one” talk that Aziraphale gets up to all the way through s1. Because he knows that Aziraphale doesn’t really believe that stuff, right? He just needs some time to talk himself around his own cognitive dissonance, and most of the time Crowley is not only happy to facilitate that but sees it as part of his role in their relationship.
But then when the chips are down and Aziraphale is still dithering, that’s when he gets frustrated, because HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE what’s been blindingly obvious to Crowley for millennia, that Heaven is just as cruel as Hell and no one is going to step in and fix it because the system is working as intended. And that’s when he says things like “how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?” Which is a surefire way not to convince the person you’re arguing with of anything.
And then there’s the despair. I really think the running away thing is not about cowardice or selfishness or some kind of unhealthy level of avoidance of hard or scary things, but about hopelessness. They’ve spent their lives avoiding very very real danger, and of the two of them Crowley is much more constantly aware of the danger that they are in from both sides. Yes he’s hypervigilant but he is also almost always right about the amount of danger they are in. Trying to get as far away from danger as possible is not an irrational response, even if it’s not always the correct one for a given situation.
When you feel like you’re the only person who sees how rotten the system is, how it needs to be dismantled entirely, but you are also VERY aware of how strong the people in power are and how ruthless they are about crushing dissent because you experienced it personally…well that gets fucking depressing after a while. Because even if you think the whole system needs to go, that feels like a completely unattainable goal when it seems like no one else even sees the problem, or if they see it, they are too afraid to do anything about it. And can you blame them? You know exactly what happens to people who speak up.
So it’s very easy for your goals to shrink from systemic change to just taking yourself and the people you love and finding somewhere for them to be as safe as possible, for as long as the system will let you exist. Because reforming the system is a fool’s errand, and dismantling it entirely seems impossible. I think this is where Crowley is at. Even if on some level he knows it’s an imperfect solution, because both of them have enough compassion that they would feel guilty abandoning Earth and humans to save themselves, and because Heaven and Hell really can find them anywhere in the universe. He just doesn’t see another option.
And look, I think Aziraphale is 100% wrong that Heaven can be reformed. But he is not wrong to want to stay and fight to make things better, even if it means sacrificing the Earthly comforts he loves so much, and even if it means doing it without Crowley by his side.
Ultimately they both need each other. Aziraphale needs Crowley for his willingness to ask questions and to see the scale of the problem, even if it’s terrifying. But Crowley needs Aziraphale for his hope, his stubborn determination to believe things can and should be better, and to fight for that. In the right hands, hope is an enormously powerful weapon.
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