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shadowtriovibes · 11 months

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can you write one where f!MC is being pursued by an annoying guy she doesn’t like who won’t take no for an answer. it annoys sebastian just as much as it annoys her, so next time it happens he pretends to be her boyfriend and suggests they start fake dating for good measure. eventually they make it for real.

thank you! i love the fake relationship trope sooo much and i’ve yet to see anyone write one with sebastian.

of course, lovely anon!! i haven't seen any fake relationship fic either so i'm happy to contribute a lil something! tbh i sincerely thought this would be a short ficlet but it ended up being just over 2.5k fluffy words of dummies in love 🤩

Title: rumor has it

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back.

"Northcott," Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. "Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?" "Your girlfriend?" Eric asks skeptically. "That's new." "I suppose it is," Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. "Been a long time coming, though." Across the room, Ominis laughs under his breath.

Sebastian Sallow is an excellent young wizard. Clever, well-read, focused – by all accounts, he should be a brilliant strategist.

But sometimes he comes up with the worst ideas you’ve ever heard.

“You musn’t be serious, Sebastian,” you laugh, closing your potions textbook to appreciate the actual madness of what he’d just suggested.

“Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes as you tell him, “You can’t just pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Earlier that afternoon, the two of you had met up with Ominis in the Undercroft to study after staging a quick exit from the library. While Sebastian was hunting down a book on ancient runes, Eric Northcott had cornered you in the stacks and tried for the second time to convince you to have a Butterbeer with him at the Three Broomsticks instead of “hiding that gorgeous face behind those dusty books like you always do.”

When Sebastian had returned, you were shoving the Gryffindor boy away from you with a tense look on your face, and if he hadn’t just finished a stint of evening detentions for slipping a Puffskein into Duncan Hobhouse’s schoolbag, he would have hexed the amorous git himself.

Since then, he’d been suggesting ways to make him pay, with each idea more fantastical than the last.

“Sure I can, and we can even make a real show of it,” he says with a charming grin. “If you want to get Northcott off your back for good, let’s allow him to think your handsome, roguish boyfriend is the type who would challenge him to a duel if he tries anything untoward.”

“That is a terrible plan,” you deadpan.

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Ominis chimes in.

You glare at him, because Ominis never thinks that Sebastian’s ideas are any good – even the ones that aren’t completely bonkers.

“What are you playing at, Gaunt?” you accuse him.

“I’m merely suggesting that Northcott may actually accept your contempt for him if it’s for a reason that allows him to save face,” he explains with a secretive smile. “Simply telling him that you’re not interested hasn’t seemed to work thus far, so why not be creative?”

“Creative?” you snort. “Wouldn’t ‘creative’ be blasting him myself the next time he lays a hand on me?”

“As if you need any worse of a reputation,” Ominis drawls, and he has a point.

“Come on, let’s really mess with him,” Sebastian pleads. “You know he deserves to be taken down a peg or two.”

You’re not surprised that Sebastian is able to get you on board so quickly. Truthfully, you think you’d follow him on his harebrained schemes just about anywhere.

“Fine,” you cautiously agree. “But just to scare him off, alright?”

You swear you can see the gears in Sebastian’s head start to turn immediately.

He kicks off his brilliant plan the next day during your N.E.W.T.-level potions class. You’re supposed to be brewing an antidote to Veritaserum, and while the draught itself isn’t necessarily difficult, some of the ingredients are a little tricky to prepare.

You’re focused on trying to carefully slit open some Sopophorous beans when you felt a presence behind you, and then Eric Northcott is draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Need a hand with those?” he offers, trying to sound congenial.

“I’m fine, Eric,” you insist.

“I’m really quite good at potions, you know,” he reminds you, grabbing one of the paring knives off the table and haphazardly slicing one of the beans you’d laid out. “I’d be happy to give you some hands-on lessons if you’d like, one-on-one of course.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis hisses from across the room, having picked up on the conversation while the other boy poured over his notes on wormwood. “Now might be a good time to offer some gentlemanly assistance.”

His eyes narrow when he spots Northcott leaning over your cauldron, clearly trying to sneak a look down your top.

“Don’t let my antidote burn,” Sebastian mumbles as he storms across the room, as if Ominis would ever spare a thought for Sebastian’s cauldron when the show is about to begin.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him notice your predicament, silently pleading him with your eyes to do something to get you out of it.

“Northcott,” Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. “Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?”

“Your girlfriend?” Eric asks skeptically. “That’s new.”

“I suppose it is,” Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. “Been a long time coming, though.”

Across the room, Ominous laughs under his breath.

“Really?” Eric asks dubiously, briefly glancing at your expression. “I was under the impression that the two of you were just ‘best friends.’”

“Well, shouldn’t a good relationship start out as a friendship?” you counter, though you don’t sound entirely convincing.

“Right,” he says slowly.

“Mate, you know how tough she is,” Sebastian says with a charming grin. “Took me ages to convince her to give me a chance, she strung me right along for months.”

You jump slightly when Sebastian slides his hand across your back to your waist, tugging you closer to his side – and out from under Eric’s arm.

“But she finally took pity on me,” he says with a lovelorn sigh, and you narrow your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you reply, laughing nervously. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love with you,” he says, quickly leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

Before you can react, Professor Sharp wanders by and instructs you all to stop your dallying and focus on your draughts. Eric spares one more skeptical look at the two of you before returning to his cauldron.

Sebastian’s hand on your waist lingers for a moment even after he’s gone, but then he lets it fall.

“Sorry about that,” he says under his breath. “Had to sell it, you’re really a bad liar, you know.”

You think Sebastian doesn’t know the half of it.

(Sebastian’s just glad you avoided his gaze long enough to miss his deep red blush.)

—

As it turns out, the kiss wasn’t enough to convince Northcott that you were properly off the market.

The rumor mill quickly focuses on you and Sebastian – specifically whether or not it’s true that your platonic friendship has become something more.

“I don’t really believe it,” Nerida claims whenever the subject comes up. “Sebastian has always seemed like the bachelor type.”

“He could have had a girlfriend all this time and never has,” Violet agrees, trying to hide her bitterness. “I don’t think he really wants to be in a relationship.”

“Are you joking?” Imelda scoffs. “Sallow’s been a lovesick puppy over that girl for years, I’m just glad she finally came around.”

“She is very protective of him,” Grace speculates. “I remember when Samantha Dale asked him out last fall, I thought she was going to Depulso the poor girl clear across the courtyard!”

You do your best to ignore it, but Ominis stubbornly insists on telling you everything he’s heard.

“I would have thought that the two of you would be better at pulling off a ruse as simple as this,” he says, disappointment dripping from his words. “How hard can it be to pretend to like Sebastian? I don’t have to see him to know that the whole school thinks he’s handsome.”

“You don’t understand,” you sigh, walking alongside him on the way to arithmancy. “It’s… I don’t have to pretend, if you know what I mean.”

“Come now,” he says quietly. “I’m blind, not dim.”

“Then you do understand!” you whine. “How am I supposed to just let him pretend to be my boyfriend to ward off Eric and not go mad from knowing that it’s all a lie?”

“I suppose me telling you to be honest with him about how you feel would go in one ear and right out the other,” Ominis suggests, smirking to himself when you curse at him under your breath.

“Buck up, then,” he says simply. “I’m sure this whole thing will blow up in some spectacular way sooner than later – it is Sebastian, after all.”

—

As per usual, Ominis is correct.

Not even a full day goes by before Sebastian corners you outside the Hufflepuff common room and asks to walk you to dinner, taking your hand in his as soon as he notices some fifth-years studiously watching the two of you as you make your way to the Great Hall.

“I missed you this afternoon,” he tells you as he walks you upstairs, putting on a good show. “How come you didn’t want to study with Ominis and me after class?”

“I just needed to lie down for a little while,” you tell him, not wanting to admit to avoiding the way he’s been so unbearably charming lately.

“Feeling alright?” he asks concernedly.

“Yes,” you tell him. “Just… I don’t know. Out of sorts, I guess.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

You get distracted by the feeling of him stroking his thumb along your wristbone reassuringly.

“Um… n-no, I don’t think so,” you stutter.

“Surely there’s something I can do to help,” he says, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way his eyes look a little darker than usual, as if his pupils have entirely taken over.

“Like what?” you breathe.

Then he gets that look on his face that he always gets when he’s about to do something stupid.

“Come with me,” he says, tugging you over to a spot along the wall in the reception hall, next to one of those empty cabinets you’d looted for Nellie Oggspire back in your fifth year.

“Sebastian, w-what–” you stammer.

He presses you against the wall, one hand pressed to your waist and the other flat against the stone behind you, boxing you in. He glances around again and clearly spots whatever it was he was looking for, grinning mischievously before he leans in and traces his nose across your cheek.

“Don’t hex me for this,” he murmurs against your lips, and then he’s kissing you.

You melt against the cool stone wall, tipping your head back so Sebastian can tilt his head against yours and completely overtake your senses with his demanding kisses. Without consciously deciding to, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you, desperate to ensure he stays right where he is.

He kisses you well, you think. You know he’s always been a huge flirt, and that he has taken some girls in your year on dates to Hogsmeade over the years, but you’ve desperately avoided any post-date conversations with him because you did not want to know what he and those girls had gotten up to afterward.

Now you know, you think bitterly, but just as quickly you realize you don’t actually care. He’s skilled at this – nipping at your bottom lip to get you to open up for him, sliding his hand between your robes and your dress shirt so he can feel the curve of your waist, nudging a knee between your thighs to pin you even further to the wall.

“Bastian,” you murmur, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groans against your mouth like he can’t help himself, and you whine a touch too loudly when he grinds his hips against yours.

Then you hear Eric’s voice call out, “Sallow!”

Sebastian looks like sin when he pulls away from you, and not just because his hair is a little mussed from your helpless tugging and his lips are red and swollen.

It’s because he’s smirking, and you quickly realize he’d planned this entire thing.

He’d pulled you to a spot where the Gryffindors on their way to dinner could easily see you being ravished, and it’s not just Eric he’s caught up in it – it’s Leander and Cressida too, some of the worst gossips in the entire castle.

…You are absolutely going to hex him for this, you think.

“Northcott,” Sebastian drawls as he turns around. “Can I help you?”

Eric looks furious, but at least he doesn’t look skeptical anymore.

“You might want to consider someplace a bit more private,” he offers, seething. “I am a prefect, after all. Could send you to detention for being so lewd in public.”

“Fair point,” Sebastian says easily. “In fact, maybe you ought to send us both. Hardly anywhere’s as private as the dungeons.”

You quickly smack Sebastian in the chest with the back of your hand, wordlessly begging him to stop before you actually do have to report to detention.

Mercifully, Eric simply throws a few choice words at Sebastian and stomps off to the Great Hall, Leander and Cressida on his heels to undoubtedly tell the entire school what just happened.

“You’re evil,” you hiss, still catching your breath. “You arranged all that just to embarrass Eric? To embarrass me like that?”

He frowns, confused. “No I didn’t, and I would never embarrass you.”

“You did!” you whine, shoving at his shoulders so he’ll step back. “They’re going to tell everyone and it’s going to make me sound like – like some pathetic girl who’s so desperate to avoid Eric’s attention that she’ll let her best friend feel her up in a busy hallway.”

“That’s not what they’ll think,” Sebastian argues. “And if anyone’s pathetic, love, it’s me.”

You scoff and wrap your arms around yourself, ashamed at how badly you wish you were still wrapped up in his arms instead despite everything you’re saying.

“You think I’m lying?” he asks derisively. “I’m a fool for you, and I would never hurt you. I kissed you like that because I wanted to, and if it happened to embarrass Northcott in the process, that’s even better.”

“Y-you wanted to?” you ask softly.

“I’ve wanted to for so long,” he finally admits.

His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for you, but he forces himself to behave.

“It’s the reason I came up with this stupid plan in the first place,” he sighs. “So that if anyone at this damn school gets to have the pleasure of walking you to class, or taking you to the Three Broomsticks or – or even kissing you senseless somewhere everyone could see, it would be me.”

You don’t have any words. But even if you did, there’s nothing you’d want to say to him that you couldn’t communicate by tugging him in by his collar and kissing him like you can’t think straight without his touch, so you do just that.

When you both break away to breathe, Sebastian quickly asks, “Are you actually hungry?”

“Not anymore,” you admit, your gaze still on his lips.

Sebastian barely manages to utter the words “Undercroft” and “hurry” in between kisses, but while he determinedly works a claiming bruise into the side of your neck, you whine, “Your common room’s closer.”

—

Once Ominis overhears Cressida waxing poetic about Sebastian Sallow practically mounting his new girlfriend in the hallway by the Grand Staircase, he doesn’t wonder why the two of you never show up for dinner.

#sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #eric northcott #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #i LOVE omniscient meddlesome ominis if you can't tell #also i swear the next thing i write is going to be pure filth bc i've been doing cute for several days in a row #unbeta'd we die like men

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doomsday-dj · 1 month

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Decorative Grapes Rizzoli & Isles Rating: T Words: 3157 (This isn't any of the things that I said I was working on but I hope you all like it anyway!)

“I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling. Everytime we see her at one of these she’s with that detective of hers and she’s practically stuck on her like a stamp. They’re��always touching each other.”

“Honestly. It’s blatant. ‘This is my colleague,’ and ‘have you met my friend,’ as if anyone with eyes couldn’t tell she and that guard dog of a woman are intimately acquainted.”

“Mmm. Truthfully, I certainly wouldn’t object to being familiar with her ‘colleague.’ If it were me I’d let everyone know.”

“God, you’re truly beyond hope. Regardless, whether she wants it or not, everybody does know.”

Maura hears a heavy door open and close and the sound of fading laughter. A very welcome silence follows, a signal that she’s once again alone in the bathroom. Eyes closed, body trembling, she leans back against the smooth metal wall of the stall she’s been hiding in.

Ten minutes ago, Maura’s phone had pinged with an urgent email from the governor’s office and she’d excused herself from Jane’s company to find a quiet place to respond. She’d been tapping away in the bathroom when the women had entered, her presence silent enough that they clearly thought they were alone. Neither had needed the facilities for any of their traditional uses, leaving Maura with the devastating conclusion that their only reason for coming into the bathroom was to gossip about her.

Maura tries her best not to cry. She presses a cool hand first to her throat, then her cheek, trying to relieve some of the heat that has gathered beneath her skin. She’s absolutely burning up, flushed with embarrassment and shame at what she’d just overheard.

The conversation was such a cruel confirmation of what Maura has long been fearing. She already knew she relies too much on Jane’s company at these events, but thanks to those loudmouthed women she now also knows she’s been doing a terrible job of hiding her ever growing affection for Jane.

Maura breathes in for four seconds, holds her breath for seven, and then exhales for eight. She does it again as she exits the stall to wash her hands and again as she presses a piece of damp paper towel to her still-flushed chest and neck.

When the reflection in the mirror looks sufficiently calm, if still a bit ruddy, she exits the bathroom. As Maura anxiously scopes out the event space, she realizes that the worst part is she hasn’t the first idea about which two women were talking about her.

She zeros in on Jane lingering by where a dessert buffet has been set out on one side of the ballroom. She’s easy to spot: her height and her wild hair and her suit all readily mark her as different. It’s Jane’s nicest suit, which Maura appreciates, but with the caterers in tuxedos, Jane is unquestionably the least fancy person in the room. Maura loves that. She loves her. Jane diligently comes with her to every charity auction and gallery opening, unselfconsciously rubbing shoulders with her acquaintances and serving as her social interaction sounding board and shield, and all Maura has done to repay her is get her name dragged through the mud.

Maura makes her way over quickly. Jane seems to know on instinct when Maura is close and turns to face her just as Maura makes her final approach. Jane’s warm smile, usually so effective at making Maura feel at ease, causes a lurch of guilt in her stomach.

“Oh, hey,” Jane greets her. “I thought I was going to have to send out a search party. Do you think these grapes are decorative?” Jane nods her head at the selection of desserts.

“I’m—sorry?” Maura trips around the prepared apology that had been on the tip of her tongue, rehearsed several times on her way across the ballroom.

“The grapes,” Jane says. “You think they’re for eating?”

Maura blinks twice and follows Jane’s gaze to where many bunches of grapes adorn the dessert table.

“I think they’re quite clearly real grapes, Jane,” Maura says slowly.

“Yeah, genius, I know that part.” The words themselves are a little harsh but Jane’s voice is filled with that affectionate teasing that seems to be reserved just for Maura, a tone that makes it very clear that when Jane says ‘genius’ she means it. She’s still carefully examining the arrangement of grapes. “But are they decorative. They’re not even on the plates, they’re just like all around the plates. Is that something rich people do? I don’t want to look like some idiot townie who can’t tell a dessert from a garnish.”

Maura’s mouth opens and closes a few times. She’d worked up quite a head of steam on her way over and now instead she’s being called on to give expert testimony on grapes. Maura looks at the table again and takes the task seriously.

“They’re probably intended mostly as decoration,” Maura admits.

Jane weighs Maura’s perspective heavily and then shakes her head. “That’s dumb, I’m still eating them.”

Decisive as always, Jane reaches down with slender fingers and plucks a small bunch of the darkest grapes, dusty blue-purple in colour, and plops them on her plate. She tosses one in her mouth and makes a deep, satisfied noise as she nods solemnly, visibly pleased with her choice.

“Anyway, what’s up with you?” Jane says. She glances over at Maura as she slips another grape in her mouth. Maura watches it disappear before looking back into Jane’s eyes with a hint of panic. “You look stressed and you walked over here in that tight little way you do when you’ve got a test result I’m going to hate.”

“What—I do not—tight?” Maura sputters.

“Yeah, like, pinched.” Jane lifts her shoulders into a tense shrug, demonstrating. “And you walk really fast with short little steps.”

Maura scoffs in offense but resists the urge to launch into a vigorous denial. While she’d very much like to defend her honour, or at least the length of her strides, she knows that if she gets into an argument with Jane she might never get to what she really needs to say. She sighs instead.

“Jane, I have to tell you something.”

Jane’s head dips at the weight of Maura’s voice, concern shading her features. She glances around, then takes Maura by the elbow and draws her away from the dessert table, moving to a more private spot off to the side of the ballroom.

“What’s up? What happened?” Jane’s deep brown eyes search Maura’s face, her hand still holding Maura’s arm. Maura chews her lower lip nervously. She’d figured out exactly how she wanted to say this when she was crossing the ballroom but now the only thing in her head is the different varietals of grapes that are on that stupid table. She’s just going to have to wing it.

“Jane, I overheard two women gossiping about us in the bathroom. I can’t apologize enough and if I’d had any idea that…well, I’m just very sorry. But unfortunately, everyone thinks you and I are together.”

Jane’s features, which had creased with concern when Maura began talking, smooth out in relief. “Well, sure.” Jane breathes out a sigh. “Of course they do.”

Maura blinks, first confused, then frustrated. She must not have said it right. Why can’t she be better at these things?

“No, Jane,” Maura says seriously. “I mean romantically. They think we’re dating.”

Jane stares at Maura. “Right, yeah. Obviously.”

Maura is dumbfounded. Obviously? Her expression must be broadcasting her bewilderment because Jane’s face crinkles with tender concern. It’s one of Maura’s favourites from the catalog of Jane’s expressions she’s learned to recognize. While plenty of people have looked at her with concern in her life, it has almost always been the pitying or morbid kind, and Jane’s feels like the sun. Maura basks in it.

“You don’t mind?” Maura asks, eyes wide with surprise and relief.

“Maur,” Jane starts softly. Her hand is still on Maura’s elbow and her thumb rubs a soothing circle against the soft skin of Maura’s upper arm. “I do mind that they’re talking about you behind your back. That’s rude as hell. But the fact that they think we’re a couple?” Jane shrugs. “What else are they gonna think? Every single time you’re at one of these things I’m with you. We show up together, we leave together, we spend most of our time together. It’s like…girlfriend or bodyguard, those are the options people are going to come up with.”

“That’s absurd.” Maura exclaims and, although she doesn’t want to be, she knows she’s probably coming off a little frantic. Her heart started racing when Jane said ‘girlfriend’ and hasn’t stopped. “Why isn’t ‘friend’ an option? Because that’s the truth, we’re friends.”

“I dunno, I think bodyguard is a little true, too,” Jane says wryly and lets go of Maura’s arm to pop another grape in her mouth. Maura shoots her a look.

“Jane, I’m serious. Just because two people…” Maura sighs. “So we spend a lot of time together, so what? They shouldn’t leap to conclusions like that.”

Jane makes a noncommittal noise in response. She sets her plate of grapes down and stares out onto the dance floor where couples have started swaying around to the jazzy house band that began playing after dinner. After a silent moment she looks back to Maura.

“You wanna dance?” Jane asks. Maura looks at her incredulously and Jane offers another shrug in return. “I mean, they’re gonna think it either way, so you might as well get to dance. You always say how you want to.” She holds out her hand, palm up, and Maura stares at it like she’s never seen one before in her life.

“I…okay,” Maura says dumbly. She places her hand in Jane’s and allows herself to be led out onto the dance floor. She feels immediately like every eye in the room is on them but when she glances around she finds that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Then she’s in Jane’s arms.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jane asks at the same time that her hand slides around to the small of Maura’s back, her other hand still clasping Maura’s and raising it up. Maura can’t pretend she isn’t shocked that Jane is this confident about dancing. She stares at Jane in a daze.

“Sure, yes.” Maura swallows with some difficulty and slides her hand up Jane’s arm until it winds over her shoulder. Jane’s eyebrow twitches just slightly and the smile on her face is not one that Maura can easily identify. She’s not sure she’s seen it before. Jane begins to sway them around the floor, sweeping her gaze around the room before settling it back on Maura.

“If there was a woman who came to all of these events, each time with the same man, and she spent all her time with him and they came and left in the same car and everything we do, what would you think?”

Maura looks up into Jane’s questioning face and presses her lips into a thin line. She blushes a bit. “I get what you’re trying to say, Jane, and you’re right, I’d think they were together. But all I’m taking away from that point is that one shouldn’t make assumptions about pairs of differing genders either.”

“That probably is the right lesson,” Jane says as she spins them slowly around. Maura thinks they might be pressed even closer together than when they started. No, she’s sure of it, actually, because she can no longer look Jane in the eye without craning her neck and Jane’s lips are startling close to Maura’s ear when she starts talking again. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes.” Maura really doesn’t mean for it to come out so huskily.

“Ignoring that lesson you just learned…if you had a friend, a male best friend, and he spent all his time with you and made you come to his dive bar with him and drove to your house every morning for fancy coffee before work even though he’d happily drink instant and has a well documented hatred for getting up earlier than he has to…”

It’s not exactly a subtle beginning on Jane’s part and Maura has already lost the ability to regulate her breathing. She’s trying not to dig her fingers into Jane’s neck but she’s not quite sure how to keep upright if she doesn’t hold onto something. She feels the arm around her waist tighten just slightly before Jane continues.

“...If, hypothetically, he’d run a marathon for you, pretend to be your lover to discourage a truly disgusting mechanic he definitely warned you about, and of course fill his nights with every charitable event in the Boston elite’s social calendar… What would you think?”

Maura can’t believe what she’s hearing. She especially can’t believe Jane Rizzoli just said lover.

“Jane,” Maura exhales quietly. She wants to lean back and look Jane in the eyes, verify that all of this is really happening, convince herself that she didn’t fall and hit her head in the bathroom prompting some very vivid auditory hallucinations, but Jane’s hand slides up to the middle of her back and holds her firmly in place.

“What would you think, Maura?” Jane’s voice is low and her breath is hot against Maura’s cheek. She shivers and grips the collar of Jane’s jacket so, so tight.

“I would think he wants me.” It’s barely louder than a whisper but Maura feels like she’s shouting.

“Hm,” Jane says, sounding sage, as if she’d just uncovered some difficult mathematical proof. “I think you’d probably be right.”

This time when Maura tries to lean back, Jane lets her, her hand returning to the small of Maura’s back except a little bit lower than it was before. Jane has that same mysterious smile from earlier and now Maura’s starting to get a sense of what this one means.

She has no less than a thousand questions about this revelation but it’s not difficult to pick out the most important one.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Maura carefully searches Jane’s expression, which turns bashful. Jane looks awkward and vulnerable and it’s painfully sweet. Maura can hardly fathom that Jane is still managing to dance them around the room.

“I tried to,” Jane says a bit helplessly. “Well—I tried to show you. I’m not very good with words. Unfortunately you’re not always so good without them. But I thought…you know, all that stuff you said about the signs of attraction, I thought you’d see my eyeballs having contractions and stuff.”

“Facial muscles,” Maura murmurs.

“Whatever,” Jane says, then clears her throat. They finally come to a stop but they don’t quite disengage, their clasped hands dropping to their sides while their other arms remain around each other. Jane’s eyes dart around uncomfortably. “Well anyway, now you know. I guess that’s also why I don’t really mind if everyone mistakenly thinks we’re dating.”

“Would you mind if they weren’t mistaken?” Maura asks, slipping her hand free. She can feel Jane’s fingers twitch at the loss.

“Of course not.” Jane frowns, offended at the implication. “If you want to clear things up with everyone, of course you should. Take an ad out in the next newsletter if you need to.”

“No, I don’t—that’s not what I meant.” Maura slides her hand from around Jane's shoulder to grasp one of the lapels on Jane’s blazer, her unoccupied hand coming up to take hold of the other. “I mean, what if—”

Maura wants to finish her sentence, she really does, but when she drops her gaze from Jane’s eyes to her mouth her fingers start tugging down on the collar of Jane’s jacket and she’s just going to have to show Jane instead, like Jane had tried to show her.

And she really had, hadn’t she? There will be time later to reflect on all the signs she missed but for now, Maura kisses Jane, lightly brushing their lips together once, twice, then tilting her head and slotting her mouth confidently against Jane’s. There’s the briefest moment of shock where Jane’s whole body goes rigid and then she melts into the contact and it sparks electricity up and down Maura’s spine. The hand that isn’t wrapped around Maura’s waist finds its place at the back of Maura’s neck, resting strong and possessive.

Jane tastes like grapes and their kiss is a relief and a thrill and a confirmation. When Jane makes a quiet, hungry sound deep in her throat it nearly extinguishes any consideration for social etiquette on Maura’s part. Despite the very public circumstances of their first kiss, Maura so badly wants to bite down on Jane’s tender lower lip, lick along the seam of Jane’s closed mouth and waste no time when she opens it. She wants to press herself against Jane’s strong thigh and goad Jane until she pushes Maura up against the nearest wall. More than anything, Maura wants to give those two women something to really talk about. She does none of those things, of course, if only because Constance Isles has many friends in this room and that’s not a phone call Maura is interested in having. She does, however, prolong the kiss as long as she reasonably can before breaking off with a sharp sigh, her eyes squeezed shut. For a moment everything is still.

“Hey,” Jane says carefully, nervously. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” Maura opens her eyes to find Jane’s looking the softest she’s ever seen them. She thinks her heart might burst. “I just… Well. While I’m obviously no longer worried about the spreading of false gossip, I’m still upset that they think I’m trying to hide it.”

Jane scrunches her face into a skeptical expression. “Oh, I really doubt they’re going to think that after you kissed me in the middle of the dance floor.”

Maura blushes and glances around and this time she does spot a few sets of eyes looking quickly away. She probably will be getting that phone call after all. She releases her grip on Jane’s jacket, smoothing the creases away with the palms of her hands before looking up into the open, caring face of her best friend. Part of her feels like she should be reeling from a seismic change in their relationship, but the whole thing just feels so overwhelmingly correct and Maura finds she can only think about one thing.

So she gives Jane’s shoulder a small shove.

“I don’t have a pinched walk, by the way.” Maura pouts.

“Oh my god, yes you do,” Jane says, reaching for Maura’s hand and winding their fingers together again. “You can’t help it, it’s how you were raised. Let’s go home and I’ll show you my impression.”

#rizzles #rizzoli and isles #femslash #f/f fanfic #f/f #f/f romance #maura isles #jane rizzoli #rizzles fanfic #rizzoli and isles fanfiction

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seiya-starsniper · 11 months

Note

2. Eye contact across a crowded room

From blossoming romance writing prompts!

Friend I've been waffling on this ask for days because I had way too many ideas and couldn't settle on just one ahahha. I hope you enjoy the one I did eventually pick! blossoming romance writing prompts

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Morpheus absolutely hates flying.

The seats are too small for his long, spindly legs to comfortably stretch, the food options are limited and often terrible, and there is almost always a crying child somewhere on the plane.

But flying is a necessary evil for a popular book author, especially when he goes on tour promoting his latest novel across the US. His agent tries her best to book as many trains as possible for his trips across various cities, but the Amtrak only goes so far, and for some cities, it is even more expensive and longer than a flight.

So Morpheus grumbles and complains, but ultimately goes where he’s told.

He is on his last flight, the one that will take him home to New York City, and he is miserable. His initial flight was too early, and then later delayed, which caused him to miss his connecting flight. It is hours before he is able to board the next one home.

When Morpheus finally lands, he is itching to leave the plane. The itch grows and grows until he is finally in the terminal, bleary eyed and under caffeinated, wanting nothing more than to drop dead in the passenger seat of his agent’s Prius and slumber until she drops him off at his condo.

But as Morpheus exits the terminal, he does not see Lucienne anywhere. He looks left, then right, then out past the areas where she would normally be.

Panic flares in Morpheus’s mind. Where is she? Is she all right? Is it possible she got held up in traffic? But no, even on the worst of days, Lucienne has never once been late to meet him in his arrival home. Morpheus frantically scans the airport lounge once more, anxiety building as he continues to fail to see her.

But then his eyes land on Hob Gadling, and Morpheus’s entire world halts to grinding stop.

Hob is another agent at Lucienne’s agency, and Morpheus knows that he and Lucienne are close. Morpheus and Hob have spoken a total of six times, all at publishing events at Lucienne’s behest, and Morpheus guards the memory of each interaction like a dragon jealously guarding its hoard of gold.

Hob does not see Morpheus right away, but it is clear that he is looking for someone. Morpheus tries to remember if there were other authors on his flight, wonders who it is Hob is waiting for, fighting back the urge to fantasize that Hob is here for him.

When their eyes finally meet from across the terminal, Morpheus feels as if a live wire has run through his whole body.

Hob has always been an expressive person, and even from more than 20 feet away, Morpheus can see the other man’s surprise slowly morph to recognition and then finally into unrestrained delight. He raises a hand to wave at Morpheus, clearly trying to get his attention, as if Morpheus hadn’t already spotted him. As if Morpheus could possibly ever miss the most brilliant and shining man he’s ever met.

The rest of the airport fades to background static as Morpheus glides through the crowds of people, determined to move his feet to get to Hob, to reassure himself that this is real and not a dream.

When they finally reach one another, Morpheus practically folds himself into Hob’s open arms. The other man smells like aftershave and coffee, and it’s only then that Morpheus realizes Hob has a to go cup clutched in one hand.

“Car service for Mr. Endless?” Hob asks cheekily, handing Morpheus the to-go cup. Morpheus takes a cursory sniff before sipping cautiously. The coffee is hot, but not so hot that it burns his tongue, and it has just the right amount of milk and sugar in it.

“You are not Lucienne,” Morpheus notes, his own lips quirking upwards, not quite into a smile, because he is still exhausted and miserable, but somehow, Hob’s smile is keeping the worst of it at bay.

“Yeah, about that…” Hob trails off, then sighs. “Her sister went into labor about 3 hours ago. Bit earlier than expected so she had to leave suddenly. She was trying to arrange a car to get you, but well, I happened to be around and I remember you hate getting in strange cars so, here I am.”

“Here you are,” Morpheus says, voice full of wonder.

Hob’s returning smile is brighter than the sun. “Let’s get your bags sorted then, shall we?” he asks. “I’ll take you to breakfast too, if you’re up for it.”

“I would like that,” Morpheus answers, already planning for how he can convince Hob to take breakfast at his condo instead.

#dreamling #dream x hob #the sandman #seiya writes #seiya drabbles #seiya writes dreamling

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skankwives · 9 months

Text

Mommy Is a Skank

Joan couldn't wipe the smile off her face, even after Marty angrily threw her down on the bed. It would remain until the back of his hand landed sharply across her cheek.

"My God, what's going on with me," she sobbed into her hands.

Tell me now – what the hell happened," he thundered

"Why don't you just tell me what happened after you left the School Board Meeting!" His voice was shrill with rage.

Joan closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and began.

"After leaving the Meeting Hall, I got on the highway and was taking my usual route home. I was listening to the radio, and I guess I got a little distracted and wound up missing my exit. I'm not familiar with that side of town, and now I know why. There was nothing around but boarded up storefronts, and dingy, rundown apartment buildings…"

I was desperate to find a gas station or someplace to get directions. Sitting in my car in the dark it brought back that whole, terrible night in the cabin - Where I was fucked by two thugs and then put on my knees and had to suck off both of those thugs, while you did nothing but watch. she said.

Did you know that married skanks and sluts are living in your neighborhood? These sluts are eager for sex with strangers . Click Here to see the list of registered sluts and skanks living in your neighborhood

"I must have snapped or something. I was sitting in the car in front of this Homeless Shelter, and I just started crying like a baby. I looked up, there was this black man knocking on the window of the passenger side. He must have been 6'4", very large, and with a shaved head. . Before I knew it he had opened the door and was sitting next to me."

"The next thing I remember is that we were in the back seat, and he was reaching up underneath my skirt and tugging down my panties. The he started fucking me doggie style" Joan said

However, Joan also left out the part about her screaming 'Fuck Me, Fuck Me, Fuck Me", so loud that it attracted the attention of a number of the shelter residents who hung out the windows hooting and cheering.

"While I was being fucked in the back seat another man got in the car and drove off. He stopped the car in some garbage strewn alley. I was lying with my face down in the backseat, and I could feel this big black man ejaculating all over my rear-end. Then this Spanish guy spread my legs and began fucking me while the other guy watched: Joan cried

Joan ended the story there. She felt it wouldn't be a good idea to describe how she pulled her knees back to her ears so the spanish guy could pound away with greater ease. Marty would never know how many times she climaxed when the black guy fucked her from behind or how she licked every drop of cum off the head of the spanish guy's cock when he was through fucking her.

To Joan's surprise, Marty was beside her - hugging her. In his mind, she wasn't some demented, cock-crazy skank but his poor, sweet wife victimized by two animals. If anything, she sensed he felt partly responsible. Wasn't it he who introduced her to this with his sick fantasy?

"We've got to call the cops and find those bastards!"

"No Marty, please I just want to put this behind me and move on! Please Marty, don't involve the police."

The following day, Marty took her to the doctor for a thorough check-up and full battery of tests. The news was good. Other than a very sore crotch, a few bruises, and friction burns on her knees and butt, she was fine physically. Thankfully, her desecrators didn't leave any permanent mementos of their good time.

Later that week She, Marty, and the kids were attending a barbecue at a neighbors' home. It was a typical boisterous late summer party; there was music, beer, and plenty of laughs. Jennifer and Marty Jr. were having a great time laughing and playing with the other children. Everyone seemed to be having fun, except Joan. There was a time when she would've been in her element at an event like this, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. These people who she considered her friends now all seemed so dull and predictable.

Joan watched Marty clustered with a bunch of other men near the grill gabbing about fluctuations in the commodities market. Perhaps it was the crushing boredom, but all of a sudden she just started feeling tremendously horny. She wanted sex – filthy sex - and wanted it immediately. Marty was heading in the direction of the cooler when she found her opportunity. She waylaid him and discretely led him into the house.

"Joan, what's up? Are you having a good time?"

"Marty – let's fuck!"

Marty looked over his shoulder to see if anyone overheard.

"Joan, honey – we're at a party; there are people everywhere," he whispered.

She dragged him up a flight of stairs, and pulled him into the first bedroom she saw.

"Joan, I don't know if this is the place," Marty pleaded as Joan dropped to her knees and undid his belt.

Joan sucked and licked his pole like a child with an ice cream cone on a hot day. However, this would merely be an appetizer.

"Fuck my ass! Ass Fuck your slut wife - Do it"

Joan tugged down her panties, turned around, bent over, hiked up her dress, and invitingly wiggled the luscious white ass in his face.

"C'mon - fuck my ass – I need it," Fuck me Fuck this Skank ass".

Realizing she wasn't going to give in, Marty grabbed her waist and plunged in.

.Joan winced at the searing pain but quickly recovered her asshole was pounded by Marty's hard cock.

"Oh Yeah Fuck my skank ass" Joan finger fucked her dripping cunt as Marty fucked her asshole.

He came hard with a series of violent, angry pumps as he shot his cum deep into her ass.

Joan then started fisting her cunt until she squired her juice all of the bedroom floor. Joan's body spasmed, heaved, and ultimately collapsed with a sigh Marty gave her no time to rest in the afterglow. He pulled her to her feet.

"We are going back downstairs, we're going to get the kids, and go home!"

A limp, glassy-eyed Joan said nothing as Marty dragged her down the stairs.

After a polite but awkward goodbye, Marty marched his family out to the car. The kids whined in the back, as Mom and Dad sat up front without speaking.

Once home, he sent the kids to their rooms, threw Joan on the couch and read her the riot act. Two tense weeks passed and a shamed and penitent Joan worked hard to appease her husband. Skeptical, he had taken his vacation to stay home and keep a watchful over her. He arranged to have her see a highly regarded psychiatrist, and diligently drove her to her twice-weekly appointments. True to his word, the children would stay with his sister indefinitely.

With bills to pay and no vacation time remaining, Marty reluctantly returned to work. The children, however, would remain with his sister until he was absolutely certain Joan was free of all deranged compulsions.

It would be a long day for Joan, made even longer without the kids to look after. There was little else to do other than curl up in bed with a book. After about an hour, Joan gave up; she didn't even have the energy to read. Depressed, she tossed the book aside and went back to bed. Around noon, the sound of someone at the front door stirred her from an uneasy sleep. Not in the mood for another pious lecture, she lingered in the bed for a while before making her way downstairs.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she heard the low rumble of conversation coming from the kitchen. ?

As she approached the doorway, she stopped dead in her tracks. A familiar face greeted her, but it wasn't Marty's.

"There's the freak!"

Cyrus, the black man who fucked her doggie style in the back of her car sat at her kitchen table picking over last night's leftover fettuccini. He didn't come calling by himself. Across from him sat a young girl eating Raisin Bran from the box. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, with bright orange hair and skin as like dark chocolate. There were tattoos up and down her arms, and her nose sported a small, silver ring.

"Freak-baby, I'd like to introduce you to my friend Tasha - she a runaway, and I'm lookin' out for the poor child."

Though shaken, Joan somehow mustered the strength to speak. "I-I'm sorry…b-but…y-you'll have to leave."

"Damn bitch, is this how you treat company? You actin' like you weren't expectin' us! You must have known, I'd be paying you a visit when I took your wallet!"

Joan's heart skipped a beat when Cyrus hoisted his massive frame from behind the table and walked toward her.

"I think I know what you need," he said with a sinister sneer in his voice. "I think maybe you need a little bit o' lovin'."

Joan turned away. She wished she was a million miles away but there was no denying she felt a rush. Once again, terrible urges beyond reason would take control of her.

I can't do this-I can't do this-I can't do this! The thought ran through her mind like a mantra.

As soon as his hot, filty breath hit her neck, her defenses crumbled.

She offered no resistance when Cyrus pulled her blouse up over her head.

"Hey Tasha – don't them titties look nice all scrunched up in that sexy little white bra?"

Tasha didn't say a word and kept on picking through the cereal box.

"Now that we seen the titties, we gots to have a look at that fine butt!"

Joan was in the grip of the fever now. She didn't need to ask what he meant; she just undid her slacks and let them slide to the floor. Then she pulled her panries down and said to Cyrus

" You want some of this white skank ass don't you"

To be continued . . . . . . .

#sexy wives #mature wives #real wives #naughty wives #shared wives #amatuer wife

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wardenparker · 9 months

Text

The Viper's Bride - ch 12

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit. 18+ Word Count: 11.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* Mentions of sexism, abuse (parent to child), talk of even more arranged marriages (including one with a wildly inappropriate age difference), Oberyn's intense flirting gets a warning of its own. Fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pregnant sex, rough sex, foursome, group sex. Summary: Saying good-bye to your mother is the beginning of a trying day which ends on a surprisingly positive note. Notes: The blanket warnings for the story have been added to this chapter! 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

Leyth smiles to herself the next morning when she comes into the room as quietly as possible with a breakfast tray laid for four. Drawing back the curtains and letting sun into the room only just stirs the easily-woken princess from her dreams but the comfort of having her lovers on either side of her seems to soothe her again and even sharp-minded and highly aware Ellaria continues to sleep soundly on the prince's other side. Tangled limbs keep the lovers all tightly nestled together, and Leyth decides that another half hour of slumber cannot be a terrible way to begin today. There will be plenty more stress with the trial's continuation today just as there was interminable stress last night, and she exits the room again as gently as she came. There is a fixture to mend on one of the princess's dresses in the meantime, and she can do that in her chair outside the door.

Twenty minutes later, Oberyn stirs slightly, opening his eyes and humming when he sees that Raeden and Ellaria are still wrapped around you and him. The foot against his own is the other lord’s and the hand wrapped around his waist is his own lover’s. He and Raeden are cocooned around you and Ellaria and he watches as your soulmate’s eyes slowly start to open.

The sun always wakes Raeden, and it is something of a small miracle that he did not open his eyes immediately on the curtains being opened. Instead he drifts from pleasant dreams into the cool morning. Rather than being disoriented by waking up naturally he all but sighs and lets the bed claim his heavy body for a little while longer. Though he had thought for weeks now that the first time he woke up to find the prince's eyes on him might be strange or even awkward, it is the furthest from it – and Raeden finds himself smiling instinctively as his eyes meet Oberyn's.

Oberyn’s answering smile is softer than it would have been if he had been seeking out physical intimacy. It will come, of that he is now certain, but he can wait until the other man is ready. “They are beautiful when they sleep, no?” He murmurs quietly.

“Always.” Careful to whisper, Raeden’s hand on your waist does not move even though he wishes to reach out at this moment. He is not necessarily afraid now – but he has no wish to wake you.

“You love her, don’t you?” Oberyn asks softly, reaching up and brushing a dark lock of her hair from Ellaria’s face. She doesn’t stir, although she sighs. “Ellaria?”

He had been expecting the question but it does not make him any less eager to have that conversation. While Raeden no longer fears being barred from your life in any way and does not think the prince would take exception to the connection between himself and Ellaria, he cannot be sure. “I—” He exhales softly in the morning sunlight and shrugs almost imperceptibly as if in apology. “I do,” he admits without the shame Which he has felt originally. “I love them both.”

“Good.” Oberyn nods, relieved by that fact. He does not think that the other man would lie about something that important. If what he suspects is true, he would want nothing more than for his lover to have the heart of the other man.

“And you?” Raeden prompts, not wanting to let the chance for affirmation slip by. Having seen how you have been worth your husband – and he with you – he might presume to know the answer already. But it would be a presumption.

“I love her.” Oberyn has no problem acknowledging that. The words slip from his lips easily. “She is my moon and stars. Ellaria is my sun and world.” His eyes find Raeden’s darker ones and hold his gaze firmly. “Now we just need to see what we are to each other.”

“Something less ethereal, I think,” he hums gently, looking down at you and Ellaria between them. “Your skies are full of beauty already.”

“You are not beautiful?” Oberyn tuts quietly and sends Raeden a disappointed look. “It is a rougher beauty, masculine and strong, but beauty nonetheless.”

Raeden chuckles and the sound is almost bashful as he tries to keep it from growing too loud or shaking you awake. “Am I a bird, then? Or perhaps a dragon?”

“Raeden Dragonstone.” He hums in amusement and nods. “I like it.”

This time when he laughs he almost barks it out, stifling the sound with his hand and pressing a kiss into your hair immediately afterward in apology as you stir against him. “After already having given me so much, you would do this as well?” He asks, dark eyes wide with disbelief.

“Do what?” Oberyn frowns in confusion.

“Dorne may not care if a man is born a bastard, but the rest of Westeros does,” Raeden reminds him, expression drawn in apology. He had thought the prince was making an offer, but he can see now that it was just a fleeting thought. “Stone is a name that carries great burden and shame, even with the promise of a new beginning.”

Oberyn understands immediately and nods. “Dragonstone is a good name, but I cannot choose it for you, handsome.” He explains. “It must be a name you like. One you will be proud of carrying.” His hand slides across his lover and yours and his fingers slide up the curve of the strong jaw of the other man. “If I were to choose, you would be Lord Sunstone of Dorne.”

“What is a sunstone, then?” It sounds like it ought to be a real stone, and Oberyn’s touch warms through his skin to make his cheeks burn. “Perhaps I will consider it.”

“Copper colored stones that glitter in the sun.” Oberyn tells him with a soft curve of his lips as he talks of it. “Warm and beautiful, even more so when they are polished and the beauty is recognized and appreciated. Like you.”

“I cannot imagine being the unwitting recipient of any of your compliments,” Raeden’s smile widens and he swallows a laugh that might otherwise have shaken your body as well as his. “It is a flattering sentiment. And something to think about.”

“You go by Stone now, but when we forge your house banner and creed, you will decide a name that you see fit.” He declares, sending the other man a small wink and feels though there are secrets, this will work out for the best of everyone.

“I will never be able to thank you properly,” the younger man murmurs, noting that he understands there is still time for all of these things to fall into place. But in a moment of gratitude he reaches for Oberyn’s hand and squeezes it gently. “But I will never give you cause to regret your kindness toward me.”

“There is no need to thank me.” The prince assures him. “The Vale lost a valuable man and Dorne has no wish to squander valuable men. In my bed or out of it, soulmate to my wife or no.” He looks deep into your lover’s eyes. “You earned your place at the seat, it is your turn to play the games of nobles. I will just teach you how to win.”

“What my husband can’t teach you is how to whisper.” You mumble, stifling a yawn as you crack your eyes open to first find Oberyn smiling at you in amusement. “Luckily, I was already dreaming of you both.”

“Only the sweetest of dreams for my Princess.” Oberyn coos, his hand joined with Raeden’s sliding down to caress your cheek. “What were you dreaming of, my love?”

“Our passage to Dorne.” Their combined hands on your skin make you hum with comfort. “Or I think it was. There was a ship, at least.”

“Oh?” Oberyn’s brow ticks up curiously. “Did we spend the voyage in a tangle of limbs and drenching pleasure?”

“Let us hope my dreams are not prophetic.” You huff but keep your voice to a whisper. “I was sick. Seasickness sounds most unpleasant.”

“So we were lavishing you with attention.” He chuckles quietly.

“That is not a hard thing to do.” Ellaria’s voice is sleep filled and her eyes heavy when she opens them to smile at you.

“I shall become very spoiled if you all dote on me so much.” Still, it does not keep you from smiling at them all or distributing a kiss to each of them now that you are all awake. “Good morning, dear ones.”

Ellaria accepts her kiss from you and then in turn gives Oberyn and Raeden one. “I believe that as the woman who is carrying the Prince’s future heir, you deserve to be spoiled and doted on.” She tells you. “Correct, lover?”

Your eyes widen, mouth slacking open, and you stumble for a moment to string even two sounds together, let alone words. “How did you—?” You ask in wonder, when your mouth and mind finally work again. Maester Rhodestone had performed his rituals and examination yesterday and determined you are, indeed, with child. But only Cal knew, and you had sworn him to secrecy until you could tell Oberyn.

Her lips purse in a small smirk and she reaches out to cup your cheeks. “My lovely girl, I have carried four of his children.” She reminds you. “You mentioned your breasts being tender when you removed your corset and the laces were more lax than they have ever been, meaning your stomach is slightly swollen.” She bites her lip. “Are you angry I spoiled a surprise?”

“No.” You could not be. Not when the news is so welcome. But even as you squeeze Ellaria’s hands in yours, you look between both men with apprehension. “Maester Rhodestone confirmed it for me yesterday. Though it is early, he was certain.”

The choked cry of happiness is Oberyn’s and he laughs as he reaches for you. Pulling you over his lover and on top of him so he can lunge up and press his lips to yours. “Does that mean you are excited, love?” When he finally lets you breathe again you feel so light that you could fly, but your arms around each other keep you anchored at least for now.

“I am.” He rasps out, his voice thick with emotion as his hand slides down over your ass. “A little prince or princess to roam the halls of Sunspear with their Sand Snake siblings.” He hums and kisses you again. “Go kiss your Raeden, love. I know you want to.”

“He says prince or princess now, but it will be a girl.” Ellaria hums, watching as you move across the bed again to go to Raeden’s arms.

“I do love having girls.” He muses and winks at Raeden as he pulls Ellaria into his own embrace.

“You are not upset, my love. Are you?” It had been discussed that you and Oberyn were trying to conceive, and both Raeden and Ellaria had seemed genuinely happy for you. But now that the time has come, the lingering fear that being pregnant with any other man’s child might upset your first soulmate draws your face and wrenches your heart with concern.

Your lover frowns and shakes his head, reaching up to cup your cheeks and pull you close. “I am happy.” He promises you. “Your womb is filled with your husband’s child and I will be able to touch you again. To hold you and not fear disrupting his line.” He leans up and presses his lips to yours to seal his promise to you.

“The next will be yours,” you swear, a shuddering sigh keeping threats of worry at bay as you sink against him. “I promise you.”

He rolls you over, under him, and grins down at you. “I will hold you to it.” He hums, kissing down your neck.

“On my honor.” The words are as serious as you can manage while the feeling of his familiar lips on your skin makes you sigh and giggle alternately.

“Are you happy, my sun?” Oberyn asks Ellaria softly, smiling at the giggling coming from the other side of the bed.

“To have another babe to dote on so soon? Of course.” She nuzzles into his side, dusting kisses along his exposed skin. Oberyn slept clothed last night – something he never does – and it has raised a question in Ellaria’s mind. “If I know you, my love, you will soon have a list of names and be sighing over memories of your other daughters in their infancy.”

“All of our daughters made the sun rise in the East.” He protests, pouting slightly at her before he grins and pulls her close. “If you wish to have another child, with your lover, I would not be angry about it.” He murmurs softly. “You are my soulmate, and our bond is strong enough for others to love.”

“It has been many years since I carried a child, lover,” Ellaria sighs, thinking of how dearly she had loved pregnancy, despite it ending in the pain of childbirth. “My time may be coming soon, as it did for my mother and her sisters. If I am able to bear another child, I will be proud no matter whose seed has planted the babe inside me.”

"I know." He nudges her nose with his and pulls her close for a searing kiss. Eager to touch the woman he has shared a lifetime with and still considers the first true love he's ever had.

A knock on the door comes with the polite clearing of a throat, and Leyth steps into the room with apologies in her posture. “Forgive me, my lords and ladies,” she will forever consider Ellaria a lady. “But there is not much time to ready yourselves. The trial continues.”

Oberyn huffs and shakes his head. "Gods curse this trial." He grumbles. "I despise the theatrics and the lies."

“Hopefully it will not drag on too terribly.” Even lying underneath Raeden, you still frown slightly and reach to run your knuckles along Oberyn’s arm reassuringly. “Although I confess, I am not looking forward to today for other reasons. I promised to meet my father at the docks just before things begin. To…to see my mother’s ship set sail.”

Oberyn frowns and nods, looking towards your lover. "Go with her." He orders Raeden, protective always but even more so now that he knows you carry his child. "I would go myself, but there is no one else I trust more with her safety than you and my lover." He tells him.

“You have to be at the trial.” Raeden agrees. His hand squeezes your hip carefully and he rolls to your side to leave a kiss on your cheek. “I swear she will be safe, and delivered to the trial immediately afterward.” Another day sitting beside you and Queen Margaery during speeches and testimonies stretches out in front of him and he knows it will not be easy for any of you.

"Should I come too, lover?" Ellaria asks you, willing to put herself through the boredom if Oberyn wishes to have more support for you. "I can accompany you to the docks if you would like some more support."

“I do not wish to bore you.” The four of you are starting to sit up and get out of bed as slowly as slugs, but you reach over to kiss Ellaria before getting out of bed. “But I would welcome your company at the dock this morning. I…cannot be sure how I will react, and I would relish the support.”

"Done." She assures you and sends you a small wink. "Give me five minutes and I will be ready, Princess."

“I am afraid I will need more than that,” you laugh, stretching as you stand on two feet again. “Perhaps ten. That is all.”

“Of course.” She stands and saunters towards the other room that she and Raeden have been sharing. “Pregnant women get to take their time.” She blows you a kiss and sashays out through the door.

******

It is not long after that you are walking out into the dock directly under the Red Keep to witness your mother’s departure, and your father is already there. Standing in silence on the wooden planks, he has a soft look of melancholy on his face when you step up beside him and touch his shoulder gently. “Have you been here long, Papa?”

“Before the sun rose.” He admits, sleep eluding him throughout the night and the regrets of past mistakes weighing heavily on his mind. He had failed you, failed Marlee, and he has a hard time reconciling that with the man he thought he was. He reaches over and takes your hand, turning towards you. “I am sorry.” He chokes out. “It was my duty to protect you and I failed.”

“We were all hurt by her, Papa. You especially.” You hold his hands faithfully and give them a gentle squeeze. “She took great pains to hide her true face from you. Or at least to keep her treatment of me away from your eyes. You cannot be blamed for that.”

“You did not feel like I would protect you.” He argues. “Or believe you. Otherwise you would have come to me. Told me what your mother was doing.”

He is right, and the separate shames you both feel over that fact is something that can only heal with time. “It is over now,” you offer instead. “She may have harmed us, but she will not be able to harm any of my brothers’ children. Or mine.”

“No, she will not.” Despite his feelings, he is determined that his grandchildren and his daughter will suffer no more. “I have already written a letter to your brothers.” He tells you quietly.

"I can only hope they will not be too angry at the news." You hang your head slightly and feel your shoulders drop. "I will write to them as well, to tell them everything that has transpired between her and I since leaving the Vale. There...was much. And the worst of it was directed not only at me but at Raeden, as well."

“Tell me.” Your father begs quietly. “Tell me what made you elope with the Prince. It must have been her.” He’s realized that he was denied seeing his daughter as a bride because of his wife and it saddens him even more.

The most you can do as you swallow down the memory of that day is nod solemnly and look back at Raeden and Ellaria nearby. "She...was going to claim that Raeden had forced himself on her. Which would have been a death sentence. B–because she was angry with how I spoke to her in front of the prince the morning we met."

“Gods be damned.” Your father’s eyes widen and he realizes the depth of his wife’s rottenness. “And you ran to the prince to beg him to marry you in order to keep Raeden away from her.” He guesses quietly.

"The only solution I could think of was to make Raeden a Dornish subject." You nod again, telling him that he understands correctly. "You had sworn him to protect me specifically and not our family, so I could save my soulmate by marrying."

“You are smarter than any man.” Your father praises quietly. “You remind me of my Marlee.” He reveals. “That is why I could not force a match before now.”

"I am sorry she was taken from you." Having almost lost your soulmate, you cannot imagine the pain of making your way through the world without him. "Would it..." Looking back at Ellaria and Raeden, they seem not quite to be reading your thoughts but nod to encourage wherever it is that your mind is going. "Perhaps you would like to travel on to Dorne with us when we leave King's Landing? Spend a little time there before returning home again?" Your hand lights on his shoulder and you remind yourself to smile. "There will be an official royal wedding to celebrate, even though we have already been wed."

“I confess, I do not know how your dynamic works.” He admits. “I know the rumors of the prince and it seems as if he still does what he wishes, but I will never judge you for finding happiness.” He turns and looks you in the eyes. “If you would not be bothered by it, I would like to go to Dorne again. Feel close to Marlee.”

It would not be bothersome to you in the least, and you have no desire to discuss the sharing of your bed with your father, so you gloss over it and hug him tightly. "Perhaps you will decide to stay long enough to see the birth of your next grandchild."

“Have you told your husband you are carrying yet?” He asks. He’s aware that the other woman who is standing off to the side is Oberyn’s lover, and might not know.

"This morning." The smile that it brings to your face is bright, and if it were a less inappropriate moment you know that you would be standing between Ellaria and Raeden with your hands tightly in each of theirs. "We are all excited. It will be something joyful to think of with all the darkness around us as of late."

“It is his child?” Your father asks softly, not wanting to insult you, but curious.

“Yes. There is no doubt of that.” It actually makes you laugh a little, which you stifle and look back at Raeden with a smile. “You do not have to understand the arrangement I have with my husband, Papa. Or the freedom with which I have given my heart. But know that all of the children I bear, regardless of whether the father is Oberyn or Raeden, will be loved equally.”

“I have no doubt and I will have no ill words about it.” He frowns. “There have been too many hateful words directed towards you and I wish for you to have nothing but happiness and love.”

“Then rejoice, because I have those things in spades.” Your life is so far from what you expected and yet so rich, and you hope that he can see the honesty of it in your eyes. “Her plan to cause my misery has backfired entirely. I am happier than I have ever been, and Raeden prospers like never before.”

“Then I am a happy man.” He lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it just as a carriage comes into sight. His sigh is heavy and he squeezes your fingers. “Your mother.”

The carriage is plain, nothing ornate about it or the bars built into its door where an open window might have otherwise been. You hold tight to your father’s hand as that same door swings open and a guard from the keep leads a woman in septa’s clothing from inside. She is screeching and howling, threats made in every direction although the guard ignores her entirely. “Just as we left her, I see,” you murmur to your father with a sigh.

“Take your hands off of me!” Your mother howls. “Don’t you know who I am? I will have your balls removed from your body.” She struggles, trying to get away from the guard, but he is holding her by the chains around her wrists.

“You no longer have the power to make threats, Mother,” you remind her, stepping forward as the guard leads her toward the dock where you have been standing. “You no longer have any power at all.”

“You little bitch!” She hisses, spitting at you when she gets close enough. “You did this. You could not stand leaving your father and knowing that his time and attention would be mine.”

“I am sorry to hear you think so.” Causing more of a fight by reminding her that he intended to leave her with her brother before returning to the Vale will not do good for anyone. “I did what I must, for the safety of the people I love.”

“They don’t love you, you stupid girl.” She sneers, smirking viciously. “Your husband will fuck any and everyone he sees and your soulmate–” her dark eyes turn venomously on Raeden. “–will leave you behind to find a legitimate wife. Someone who can give him more than bastards. You will be all alone.”

Raeden starts at that accusation, knowing he would never leave you regardless of any wife he might ever find, but you shake your head a little to tell him that it is not worth being angry over. In mere moments your mother will be gone from your lives forever and it will be for the best. “I hope that one day you find peace, Mother. Because I promise you, our peace will be immediate. Once you are gone to the Sept to take your vows, we will none of us, spare you another thought. Your name will never pass our lips again. You will be forgotten. And that is the way to be truly alone.”

“You cannot do this.” Her face morphs into a beseeching expression and she shuffles towards your father. “I am your wife.” She reminds him. “I have stood by your side faithfully for nearly thirty years.”

“There is more than one kind of faithful,” he tells her, his normally deep and resonant voice sounding thin from sorrow. “Beating and threatening our children is far from faithful. You betrayed my trust, if not my bed. And I think that may be far worse.”

“She deserved every one of those beatings.” Your mother insists. “Naughty, willful child. It was the only thing that could be used to manage her!”

“You ought to have tried love, Mother.” It is too late for such things now, but you take your father’s hand again and swallow a sigh. There are tears forming behind your eyes that you absolutely do not want her to see you shed. She does not deserve a victory in any way. “Papa has loved me unconditionally my entire life and I have done everything he has ever asked of me.”

“Why would I love you?” She snorts. “You are a girl. A girl is less valuable. You have to earn love.”

“I see.” It is something so much more monstrously heartbreaking than you had expected – to hear that you never even stood a chance of having your mother’s love. From the moment you were born you were doomed, and there was nothing that you could have done to cure the evil misdeed of being a daughter to a woman who only wanted sons. “Gods give you peace, then.”

“Take her away,” your father tells the guard, holding all the more tightly to your hand as he gives the command. He cannot stomach any more of her hate or lies, or her desperate pleas for clemency. The sooner she is gone and he is free of her, the better.

Ellaria moves to your side, her fingers lacing through yours and squeezing tight as she watches your mother fight the inevitable and being dragged up the gangway onto the ship. “Girls are not less valuable than boys.” She understands you know that, but she needs to make her point. “Can you imagine a man pushing a baby out of his ass? People would cease to exist.” The joke falls flat, unable to comfort you.

“I did nothing wrong.” The tears fall freely with her at your side, and now that your mother is far enough away not to be able to see them. “My crime was simply existing, wasn’t it?”

“Your mother is broken.” She tells you simply, turning towards you to command your attention and reaching up to dry your eyes. “Obara’s mother was angry that she did not wish to stay with her, sell her body and lead the same life as her. Cursed her as Oberyn carried her away from hovel she lived in and wished death upon her child.” She shakes her head, frowning at the memory. “Some women are not meant to be mothers and yours is one of them. She was broken. Never you.”

Your free hand comes up to touch your unchanged belly – feeling slightly uncomfortable these days but still unchanged by the baby inside. “I hope she’s a girl,” you murmur, hanging your head beside Ellaria’s. “With all my heart. So that there will be one more girl in this world who knows nothing but pure love from her mother.”

Her other hand covers your gently and she hums softly. “She will have nothing but love from her entire family.” She promises you, her dark eyes on yours and she would kiss you if it wasn’t for your father being near. “Whatever they might be to her.”

“Thank you, love.” The love you feel for Ellaria may be slightly different than how you love Raeden or Oberyn, but it is not lesser. It is richer in some ways, or more complicated, but certainly not less than anything.

“Do not thank me until you are embracing your child and cooing lovingly to them.” She tells you with a smile.

“In time.” Your hand moves to Ellaria’s cheek, the supportive motion lasting only a few seconds before you offer her and Raeden the best smile you can muster. “Papa…” he is just beside you, but you know he is watching the ship as it readies to sail with the tide. “The trial will be starting soon and I must be there for my husband and the queen. But…will you have supper with us tonight? I do not wish for you to be alone too much. Not so soon.”

Your father smiles wanly and shakes his head. “Perhaps another night.” He pleads. “I–I need to be alone tonight at least.” He reaches for your hand and wishes for you to understand. “I wish to grieve and leave ill thoughts behind before I have dinner with you…again.”

Grieving is certainly something you are familiar with, even if not in the same way. He is grieving his past in many ways, while you grieved an entire future. “I understand. But if you decide you would rather have company, please do not hesitate?”

“I promise.” He tells you. “Go, I will be watching the horizon long after the sails disappear.”

“I would stay with you,” you cringe, knowing that this situation never could have been foreseen. “But a promise to a queen cannot be broken.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Go and be the princess that Dorne needs.” His smile is more genuine this time. “I am proud of you, my daughter. And I love you. I have loved you since the septa placed your squawking, squirming, little body into my hands.”

“And I love you, Papa.” Both of your arms encircle him in a tight hug, and you squeeze your father against you for just a moment, careful not to let more tears fall.

“Go, Princess.” He whispers softly. “Take your lovers and see the trial well.”

“I pray it sends swiftly and fairly.” With one more hug, you reach instead for Raeden and Ellaria’s hands to return to the keep.

******

Oberyn watches the doors to the great hall, eager to see you and make sure that your eyes are not devastated. If they are, he will call for a break to comfort you. His child. You are carrying his child. It was planned, it was expected, and despite having eight other children that he loves, he is excited beyond measure because of the babe that lies in your womb.

There is no mistaking the direct gaze on the doors when you walk in. It takes no trouble to search out the judges of this business, but Oberyn is watching. He has been waiting and it shows in his eyes. You nod when your eyes meet, not quite smiling but able to communicate across a room that you are as well as can be expected.

Only when you nod, is Oberyn able to relax. Leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, adopting the careless pose he had managed until this morning. Until you were not there. He’s surprised to see his lover by your side and wonders if that means the send off for your mother was even worse than he imagined.

“Just here.” You have spotted Queen Margaery in her seat not too far from where the judges sit and you know that the seat beside her is meant for you. “If you wish to leave Ellaria, none of us will blame you.”

“No.” She hums in amusement. “I will see what all the fuss is about.”

"Then come and sit with us." Not letting go of their hands, you lead Raeden and Ellaria toward the seats sitting open near the queen. "Margaery will be glad to see another friendly face."

She isn’t sure that her face will be especially welcomed by many, but she smiles and follows you towards the widowed queen. “Queen Margaery.” She murmurs quietly, curtseying slightly.

"Ellaria." The younger woman reaches out her hand to clasp Ellaria's quickly before moving to yours. "And my dear princess. Your attendance today is more comforting. Please, will you and Lord Stone join us?"

“If it is your wish, your highness.” Raeden assures her, puffing up proudly at being recognized by the queen.

"Yes," she smiles, and it is more sincere than you have seen from her in a week or more. "Most assuredly. The princess speaks mostly highly of you."

He knows that you would always speak highly of him because of your bond. However, he bows in front of Margaery and smiles. “Then I pray to the Seven I do not disappoint.”

"I do not believe you could." She answers magnanimously, indicating the chair to her other side for him to sit in.

Ellaria’s brow shoots up and she smirks at the way that the queen is obviously flirting with your soulmate and she can’t say that she hates the idea of the queen in bed. Her eyes find yours and she winks.

Determined not to react at all when there are surely eyes on you from all over the room, you clear your throat gently in Ellaria's direction. She has noticed something that you have not and you will be most interested to hear about it at the first break of the day.

She pats your hand and leans into your side, weaving her arm through yours to side companionably. Ready to sit out the day and see what sort of mess Tyrion Lannister has gotten himself into.

******

By the end of the day, you can feel your energy flagging and your concentration has wandered quite a lot. The midday break was spent having luncheon with the queen as she asked amiable questions about Raeden's training and his new House, as well as showing interest in the daughters Ellaria shares with the Prince. The news of what had happened with your mother had not reached her ears yet and you left it that way, not wanting to spoil the otherwise light conversation. Now that the day's proceedings are over with, though, you are more than glad to make your way back to your chambers with your soulmates and your lover and pretend that the rest of the world does not exist for a little while.

Oberyn keeps his arm around your waist and he pulls you close. "Perhaps we will have a quiet night, just the four of us." He suggests looking behind him to Raeden and Ellaria to see what they think.

"Perfect, lover." Ellaria coos, nodding in agreement. "It has been a taxing day and our expectant mother needs to rest and be pampered."

"You do not have to do anything special," you insist, though you are practically burying yourself in Oberyn's side at the same time. "It is enough to be able to spend time together. Without the difficulties of the day hanging over us."

"Some weak wine, some food, a comfortable bed and three sets of hands to massage your body doesn't sound like a good evening?" Your husband asks, sounding amused that you would turn down such a thing.

Even with your face in his shoulder, you cannot help the sheepish way you smile. "I said you did not have to, my love. That does not mean that I would turn you away if it is what you wanted."

"I will have Leyth bring us plenty of the princess's favorite foods." Raeden offers, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder softly.

"Thank you, love." One step past having accepted your feelings for your husband, it seems as though it is a title that you may use for all of your lovers without hesitation. "I am truly just glad to be able to spend tonight with the three of you. Today was more taxing than I could have expected."

"I know that it was." Ellaria tuts, clicking her tongue slightly as she remembers the horrid scene at the docks. "Now we will relax and make you think of more pleasant things."

"Raeden seems to have made friendly strides with Margaery," you report, letting yourself be led to the overly large chaise lounge that you have been favoring lately. "At least that went well."

"Yes, it seemed very friendly with the pretty widowed queen." Oberyn chuckles and he smirks at the other man. "It would be a young, ripe womb." He muses. "Attached to a very noble name."

"You cannot be seriously suggesting such a thing?" Raeden returns to the room with a dubious expression on his face and an amused shake of his head. "She is curious because you have given me a new House. That is all."

"Curious and desperate to leave this place." He shrugs slightly and opens the door to your rooms. "Something to think on, Dragon-Sun-Stone." He jokes.

"It is impossible to think on." He insists. Not because he finds the widowed queen unattractive by any means – after all, he has eyes – but because once again there is such an enormous difference in stature and he cannot imagine anyone being willing to give up such luxury as she must be used to in order to begin a brand new noble house.

“Says you.” Oberyn tells him. “Once her reputation is in shambles, she will be lucky anyone would wed her. And she knows it. She’s choosing that.”

"And for the life of me I cannot understand why." Raeden busies himself with watering down a cup of wine for you and pouring cups for everyone else.

“Because she will be forced to wed Tommen.” Oberyn answers. “And she knows that if another Baratheon dies, it will be her head as well.”

"Tommen?" His head whips up in concern. "He may be a king, but he is a child."

“That does not matter to a group where his father is his uncle.” Oberyn snorts.

"I hate to think of how far she is willing to stoop to dig her way out of that family," you accept your cup gratefully but sigh. "Not that I consider being bedded by my husband to be low, but to willingly throw her own reputation away? It is such a sacrifice and she should not have to do it."

Oberyn sends you a false pout and a huff. “Bedding me is an experience.” He corrects you, sending Raeden a wink. “Just wait until you find out.”

"One day soon." The chuckle Raeden lets out is lighthearted, something it could not have been even a few days ago. All the time that passes between the four of you makes things much more comfortable.

"So she intends to ruin her reputation and live a life free of restraint? That doesn't sound so terrible."

"Not precisely," you admit with a frown. "She intends to be caught with Oberyn so that she does not have to marry Tommen, but she will still have to marry someone one day. Her father will turn her out if she ends up a spinster."

Oberyn closes the door and smirks as he moves towards his lover and your soulmate. “A pity for one so pretty.”

"She has our hand of friendship." As Oberyn had instructed, you had offered her a place in Dorne if she needed safety. "I dearly hope that she will not end up needing it, but I have done what I can. Or at least, if there is any other help we can offer her, I cannot think of it."

“Enough about the queen.” Oberyn has bored of the conversation and is more interested in things between the foursome in the room. “Let us relax and enjoy our evening.”

"What would you rather talk about, lover?" Ellaria hums, setting herself down on the small extension beside your chaise with her own cup of wine.

“Soulmates.” He pours himself a cup now that everyone else has one and saunters over towards the group.

"Is that so?" You do your very best not to squirm or be visibly concerned, but Oberyn seems very pointed about his choice of discussion.

“Yes, it’s fascinating, isn’t it?” He drops onto the chaise beside you and curls around your body to rub your stomach.

"Possibly." Accepting the kiss that he places on your lips is easy, but you clear your throat gently afterward. "Are you thinking of the children, perhaps, husband? Of your daughters' soulmates?"

“Did you know that second soulmates are a possibility?” He asks the room, ignoring your questions.

"It...has never been documented." Ellaria's posture remains unbothered though her voice is tense.

"They speak of second soulmates in fairy stories," Raeden agrees quickly, before burying his face behind his wine. "To comfort those who have lost their soulmates too early."

“No, there are documented cases of second soulmates.” He notices how the other two are tensed up and he can read the guilt that flashes in their eyes. “Star went to the Citadel and was loaned a book on it. Interesting things.”

"How fascinating." Affecting an air of complete calm, Raeden offers you a smile now that he has gathered his own wits. "There is simply not any topic she can resist reading about."

“Yes. I read about it after everyone fell asleep.” Oberyn reveals. He had slipped from the bed easily and poured through the book. “I fear we have that in common.”

"Did a particular story intrigue you, lover?" Ellaria asks, a note of hope in her voice that this is simply some odd non-sequitur to tell you all what he had read in the maester's book.

“Several.” He admits, looking over at the woman who has shared a life with him for so long. “The ones that intrigued me most were the stories of having two soulmates at the same time. Apparently it is extremely rare, something the old gods and the new see fit to give very few people.”

"That sounds exceedingly rare," she agrees, focusing on her wine and glancing toward the door now and then, presumably to see if Leyth will appear with supper to be shared. "They must have been very interesting stories."

“They are. The thing that I have concluded is, that for a second soulmate to be possible, there must be a change of fate.” Oberyn tells you all, his eyes sharp and his mind whirling. He had admittedly been thinking more about the situation than the testimony today.

"That seems most unusual indeed." Although, you have to admit, it does make sense. For your situation, anyway. You have all had a rather extreme change of fate in the last few weeks.

“Yes.” He slides his hands up your body and cups your breast idly as he talks, as if he is not having the most serious conversation of his life with the people who mean the world to him. “There is no shame in having two soulmates. As long as everyone is comfortable with it.” His eyes turn to Ellaria and Raeden. “I am comfortable wearing Ellaria and Star’s marks, aren’t you, Stone?”

Raeden freezes momentarily, but he is not alone in that. You and Ellaria are also sitting stock still and staring at Oberyn with open mouths. "You–?" When Raeden manages to form a syllable again, he is fumbling in his seat and nearly spills his wine down his doublet. "You wear th–them both?" He gasps, needing to be absolutely sure that he has heard the prince correctly.

“As do you.” Oberyn says breezily, as if he is not only accusing Raeden of keeping secrets but revealing them at the same time. “It seems as if our little foursome is bound together in two different ways.” His shirt is easily pulled over his head and he twists around to reveal your marks on his back. “My soulmate and your soulmate are also soulmates, Star. As well as you and I.”

“When?” Ellaria asks, more demand in her voice than you would have expected. She is not angry so much as badly shaken, and trying to piece together every bit of information. “How long have you had them? How long have you known?”

“Our marks showed up just a few days ago. Right before the trial started.” He tells his lover. “I suspected yours a few days before that.”

“You suspected it even before?” That news flabbergasts you in your own right. But then – Oberyn’s intelligence should not be underestimated.

“My lover never is shy about exposing her body.” Oberyn tells you. “Fumbling for clothes, modesty, it is not in her nature.” He tuts, reaching out and stroking Ellaria’s arm. “Is it, my love?”

“And if I had claimed it was for the princess’s comfort?” There is no use in arguing the facts, but Ellaria is interested in whether or not Oberyn would have accepted that lie.

“You were worried she would be upset.” He’s already guessed as much. That the two of them feared your reaction to knowing that Raeden shared a bond as intimate as a soulmate connection with another. That you would feel like you were not good enough.

“It certainly would have been a shock,” you admit, looking down at your hands. “I may not have taken it very well at all…depending on when they had appeared. How quickly, I mean.”

“Yes.” Raeden nods, slightly sad. “Which is why we couldn’t tell you. We were afraid you would feel like I was abandoning you.”

Disappointed in yourself more than anything else, you give Oberyn a pleading look. “You cannot be cross with them for being correct.”

“I am not cross with them.” He reassures you, leaning in and brushing his nose against yours. “I understand the worry of someone you love. How we both chose to keep it quiet until we knew more.”

“So it is…” you sigh, glad to hear that the deep rumble of Oberyn’s voice is not anger. “That we each…have two soulmates…but we are not all soulmates?”

“Perhaps we could be soulmates, one day.” Ellaria hums, reaching out and taking your hand. Offering you a smile. “Just because we do not share marks does not mean our hearts do not belong to one another.”

“It is odd to think of gaining soulmates,” you admit, lacing your fingers through hers tightly. “But I know I do not love you less for not being my soulmate.”

“It is very telling that she worried about your feelings.” Oberyn adds, kissing your shoulder and sending his other soulmate a warm look.

Ellaria holds tight to your hand as she reaches over you, sinking into Oberyn’s welcoming embrace. She has despised keeping this secret from him despite thinking it was best for you, and now that the truth is out in the open she can feel her heart blossoming once more.

“Go to your lover, Star.” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “Let him know that you are not upset at him.”

Switching places with Ellaria is natural enough, and you take her place on the cushioned sofa beside Raeden to wrap your arms around him and press your forehead to his with a relieved sigh. "I could never be upset with you again, love. One fight was more than enough for us."

His own arms slide around you easily, his own sigh soft and relaxed now that you know. “I’m sorry, my love. I did not want you to think that I was moving on from you. I will never move on from you.” He vows softly, his words resolute.

"Our lives have changed in innumerable ways, my love." Raking your fingernails gently along the length of his neck and shoulders, you find yourself automatically climbing into his lap to be as close as possible. "We never could have known this would happen."

Now that the truth has been revealed, Raeden wants to touch you. To caress every inch of your body and map the new scars that adorn your skin. His lips press to yours frantically while his gentle hands start to work on the laces of your dress. He needs you, more than he needs to breathe and he hopes that you need him just as badly.

From somewhere in the back of your mind you can hear Oberyn's low chuckle and a sigh of pleasure from Ellaria, but all your focus is centered on Raeden at this moment. The solid bulk of him beneath you as he begins to pluck at the lacing of your dress is comforting and oh-so familiar, letting you sink into him all the more fully.

"Infuriating, aren't they?" Oberyn chuckles, having already pulled Ellaria's dress off her willowy frame and caressing her skin. "We will dress our princess in the most scandalous of dresses, perhaps she will roam Sunspear nude so we can just seat her on our cocks whenever we wish."

"Her favorite nightdress," Raeden mumbles, grinning as he pulls back from your lips to kiss along your neck even as he speaks to Oberyn. "Opens with just the slip of a tie. All her dresses should be like that."

“Hmmmm.” Ellaria’s lovely thigh is covered in a familiar scar, the same one that he had traced on you. “Yes. No undergarments. Ready to take us at a moment's notice.” He chuckles. “Though I wish to see what our girls will look like on both our cocks.”

"There is no need to wait to find that out," Ellaria coos, nimble fingers already loosening the ties of Oberyn's soft trousers after tossing away his boots. "That can be a sight for tonight and every night afterward that we desire."

Raeden groans and shakes his head. “If the prince would allow me, I wish to make love to his princess.”

“Does the princess herself have a say in this?” You raise one eyebrow to your husband but the smile tucked up into the corner of your mouth is for both men. Now that you have managed to conceive there is no reason to abstain for you from Raeden’s company and all of you know it.

“Of course she does.” Oberyn snorts. “As long as the maester is sure, I have no problem with my wife deciding what she wants tonight or any night.”

“Rhodestone had no hesitation.” The old man’s certainty had been near giddy, in fact, and his happiness infectious.

“He has called several pregnancies just by looking at the woman.” Oberyn tells you. “It is like a gift he has been given from the gods.”

“Then let us hope he is able to predict many more children for our extended family.” That is what you all are now – family. Tied together by love and loyalty, if not your marks.

“Hmmmm.” Oberyn hums, pleased by the idea and he captures Ellaria’s mouth with a searing kiss. Eager to touch her now that the secrets are no longer between them and he shudders when she presses a kiss to one of your scars.

Sounds of pleasure begin to fill the room in a creeping crescendo. With every taste of skin or loving caress, there is music added to the air. No moves are made to go to separate bedrooms. No flimsy gestures of modesty as the two pairs of soulmates – first soulmates, as you will now have to distinguish – strip each other bare and hold each other as close as human bodies will allow.

Ellaria’s hands tangle into Oberyn’s short hair and she moans into his mouth as she grinds down on his cock. “Are you satisfied, lover?” She breathes out. “Another child of your seed is firmly planted.” One hand leaves him to reach behind her, touching your shoulder and caresses it gently. “In such a lovely womb too.”

You hum as you pull away from Raeden even momentarily, and shiver when he starts to kiss Oberyn’s marks on your skin – ones he knows so well from Ellaria as well. “High praise from one so beautiful,” you return, turning your head to meet her lips next. She meets the kiss with a sigh and smiles against your lips. Her hand sliding around your cheek and down to your neck to anchor herself to you just as Oberyn slides inside her.

Swallowing her moan eagerly, you do not move from Ellaria’s kiss for a moment, but feel Raeden latch onto one of your nipples with eager enthusiasm and nip at the bud so that you will moan along with her. Raeden’s tendency is always to make sure you are dripping wet before he fills you to ensure you feel no discomfort, and he holds to it even now.

Raeden’s fingers are between your thighs, stroking your slit and wondering why he doesn’t feel envy. He’s not upset that Oberyn has put his child in you, he’s eager to see you round with the babe.

“Love—” Panting into Ellaria’s kiss, your hips rock into Raeden’s hand at a much less controlled pace than your hand as it pumps his cock. “You will not hurt me. Please, love.”

“What do you want, Princess?” He nips and kisses at your skin, unsure of how Oberyn has been seeing to your needs.

“As much as you are willing to give.” Breaking from Ellaria only long enough to look down at him, you still shiver at his touch even when it is light. “I have always found pleasure in some pain, my love. Please do not be afraid to take your pleasure from me. I am more than willing to give it.”

He frowns, trying to reconcile the woman that he knows with the woman in his arms now. “Are you sure, my love?”

"Entirely." He has always been careful with you. Treated you as though you might break if he were to use all his strength with you. But that strength is what you crave from him.

His grip on you tightens and he watches you carefully as he does. Wanting to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. Instead of flinching or making any kind of uncomfortable sound, you sigh out a moan and squirm against him eagerly. "More, love," you beg, waiting to see where his limit lies.

Raeden groans and squeezes your hip harshly. He has always worried about hurting you, knowing that he is strong and you have been so mistreated by your mother. To have you ask for a rougher touch has him feeling powerful as his cock twitches and he shoves his hand between your thighs and pushes two fingers into you quickly.

"Gods above." The sharpness of the feeling, the divine neediness of it, makes your body jolt and shudder in the best way. "Yes, love."

Your breathless praise makes him eager to hear more. “Yes?” His mouth trails south and when he wraps his lips around your nipple, he gives you the sharp sting of his teeth.

"Yes!" It stings divinely, making your body feel as though it is being set ablaze one sharp sensation at a time. "It is perfect, my love."

His fingers thrust ruthlessly into you as he continuously bites and sucks on your tits, pulling moans out and he can’t help but spurt pre-cum onto your hand. Turned on and confused, all he can do is give you more.

"It has been far too long," you groan out, only letting go of his length to savor the taste of him from your skin before returning to your greedy strokes. "Have missed feeling you inside of me."

“Mount me.” He is not above begging at this moment. “Take my cock as yours.”

"Gladly." Ellaria is already riding Oberyn beside you with unbridled enthusiasm, and you want nothing more in this moment than to keep the eagerness of the night rising. You shift in Raeden's lap so that you can be sure you are over his cock, then pull his hand away so you can plunge yourself onto him as if it were a personal goal to take all of him at once. And perhaps it is, if you are honest with yourself, because you keen rapturously at the overwhelming feeling of it.

Raeden nearly chokes, his grip on your body turning bruising as you quickly envelope him. Gasping out your name and his toes curl when you squeeze him.

Not having to hide your pleasure has taught you to explore volume, and you cry out happily when Raeden’s hips snap up instinctively to meet yours and end up pushing his length even deeper inside you. Riding him puts you in a position to determine your own pace, and you set one that is both energetic and sharp, making sure that every time you impale yourself on him it is a quick and decisive stroke that makes your grasping, soaking pussy squeeze him just as tightly as the first.

“Gods.” He moans, barely able to tear his eyes from your beautiful form to see Ellaria riding Oberyn with much the same enthusiasm. It’s positively sinful and he doesn’t know if he’s seen a more beautiful sight than this foursome.

“Pray to your lover,” Ellaria quips, leaning over to stroke your shoulder lovingly as she keeps her other hand buried in Oberyn’s curls. “She is goddess enough.”

He couldn’t agree more. “And your prince is a god among men.” He breathes. “One that I wish to serve.”

Leaning down to nip at Raeden’s ear, you moan into his neck and he thrusts up into you and nearly giggle at the delirious feeling of pleasure. “You will not be disappointed.” You can absolutely promise him that.

“Would you want to watch?” He asks breathlessly.

Drawing back from him slowly, with both of your hands cupping his jaw, and your eyes finding his in the candlelight, you nod seriously. “If you wish it. I would enjoy seeing your pleasure.”

Oberyn groans. “Gods, we will have our own orgy.” He vows. “Just the four of us.”

“We could have it anytime you want, husband.” With the revelation of what all of you mean to each other, your hesitations have fled. Nothing stands in the way of enjoying each other completely - at least not as far as you are concerned.

He groans and nods. His fingers tightening on his lover’s hips as he fucks up into her. “My star. My sun. My stone.”

"Right now you are both stone," you tease, grinding down in Raeden's lap and moaning loudly again when his hands push you down to take that much more of his length.

“Of course.” Raeden chuckles. “Two of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms are on our cocks.”

"You would both live like this." Ellaria muses aloud, her honeyed voice deeper and raspier with each thrust from Oberyn. "Walking around with us on your cocks for everyone to see how we writhe for you."

“You know me so well.” Oberyn grunts. “He would love it too, I know it. I have heard the sounds of your fucking.”

"Soon you will be the one to make him shout," Ellaria predicts without hesitation. She throws her head back and moans with genuine enthusiasm when Oberyn twitches inside her, obviously enjoying the thought of that immensely.

Raeden would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t so fucking turned on, unable to believe that he ever had any doubts of this union between you and the prince.

Grunts and groans take over again, a symphony of carnal pleasure as both men chase the fantasy of each other as well as the reality of the women who were bound to their souls from the very start. Every throaty cry and slap of skin is in perfect harmony and when you reach out to caress Ellaria's sweat-slicked side, she catches your fingers in her own and laces them together tightly. You will take this ride together, it seems to say, so you lean over to tangle yourselves up in a kiss as well.

The men watch, caught up in the beauty of the moment. Too far away from each other to engage in their own kiss, although Raeden’s lips ache with need. Instead, he concentrates on lavishing attention on your body. Sucking and kissing every inch of skin he can reach.

It is with Raeden’s unwavering attentions and the needy increase in his upward thrusts that you are the first to cum. It could have easily been poured into Ellaria’s kiss but you gasp for a breath — letting the sound of your shuddering moan out into the night air and calling Raeden’s name with it. So many silent encounters had marked the beginning of your relationship that it feels freeing and vulnerable in equal measure to cry his name into the nighttime the way you have been Oberyn’s.

“Beautiful.” Ellaria breathes out, watching you with dark eyes that are shining with lust and love. Free now that you know and approve, she feels as if a weight has been lifted. There was never a desire to do anything other than protect you.

"You will be next, love," Raeden rasps out, knowing that Oberyn will have her teetering on the edge of pleasure well before the prince himself lets go.

“Yes she will.” Oberyn hisses out, snapping his hips up harshly and digging his fingers into his lover’s thighs.

It is Ellaria’s cry that saturates the room this time, as her head drops back and she continues to bounce on Oberyn’s cock. Her throaty laugh of pleasure and delight is triumphant. Her unbridled joy at being in Oberyn’s arms again is obvious, but it does not keep her from reaching for you again the way you did for her – tangling your fingers together and squeezing your hands tight as her cries become higher and more breathless.

Oberyn groans her name, watching as your fingers knot together and hold tight. His worry that you and Ellaria would be at odds for the marks you bear is now non-existent. He closes his eyes and increases his own pace, eager to fill his lover again. He's enjoyed the sex with you, he's loved it, but he needs this connection with her.

The beauty of the moment is what causes you to slow your pace in Raeden's lap. Watching the two of them together is like watching art be created, with their passion and their love for each other shining through every moment of togetherness. There is no shame in watching, no discomfort or uneasiness, and you devour the sight in front of you with awe as Ellaria cums with a languid moan only for Oberyn to follow immediately after.

Oberyn's head tilts back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows after a loud moan. Throbbing as he spills deep within his lover's womb and he knows that it won't take. Not with her drinking her tea. "My sun, fuck, I love you."

Ellaria shudders, shaking above him, letting her entire body concentrate on the feeling of bearing down on his length and being flooded with his seed once more before she curls over and buries her face in his neck. "How I love you," she whispers, sighing happily against his hot skin.

Humming, his dark eyes slide over to Raeden. "Fill my princess up, lover." He commands the other man. While he might not have been intimate with him yet, it was only a matter of time.

Raeden takes the order for all he is worth, overlarge hands digging into the flesh of your hips as he pulls you down on to his length once more and sets a quick, needy pace. Watching the three of you come apart in front of him had his cock twitching and pulsing inside of you even when your movements were subtle.

"Turn her over." Oberyn grunts, watching while his cock softens inside Ellaria. "Take charge and fuck her like she needs to be fucked." He knows you enjoy a firmer touch and now that you are being honest, it's time for you to get what you need.

He never has before, and you look down at Raeden with your bottom lip between your teeth. "Would you, love?"

"I–I won't hurt the child?" He asks you and then looks towards your husband. The last thing he wants is to put Oberyn's heir in jeopardy. He's always heard ladies are delicate when they are expecting.

"Do not worry," Ellaria promises, now lying languidly in Oberyn's arms like a contented cat. "No cock in the world is long enough or sharp enough to harm the babe where she lies. And your love will have many more days of wanting all of us before she grows uncomfortable or too sensitive for physical pleasure."

He knows Ellaria would not mince words if she felt it was the wrong thing to do. Oberyn either. His own need to belong and do the right thing to make up for his bastardy still is an obstacle to overcome. He nods and his gaze darkens when he looks back at you, his jaw flexing and he gives himself a moment before he is flipping you onto your back and driving his cock back into you like a battering ram against a gate.

"GODS!" It happens almost too fast to realize what he is doing before you are on your back, sprawled out on the chaise with your head practically in Oberyn and Ellaria's laps. It is the kind of force you expect from your husband -- not from your paramour -- and to find them both capable of it makes you wish that Oberyn could be hard again immediately so you could be shared between them.

"Good, lover." Ellaria coos. "Make her scream for all the keep to hear. Show the kingdom how a good man fucks his girl."

His pace is near brutal, working you up again so quickly and mercilessly that you are crying out to the heavens in no time with a chant of his name over and over again. Even with Ellaria’s nimble fingers plucking at your aching hard nipples and Oberyn’s hand hovering tantalizingly close to your throat, it is praise for Raeden that has your mind blurry and your senses muddled. The only thing that matters is that you get to feel him fill you again, and this time when he does you will be exhausted and cock drunk in bliss.

“Cum in your lover, my stone, and I will lick it out of her.” Oberyn vows, watching the man’s ass flex and his muscles ripple as he fucks you. Enjoying the lewd and titillating sight.

With a promise like that, Raeden cannot help himself. His thrusts turn frantic after fewer than a dozen more, his pace faltering and your strangled praises becoming breathless keens of pleasure until the single bare thread of control he has left snaps and he buries his cock deep inside you one more time. A flood of his seed fills every crevice in your body - and every inch of you sings for him as he slumps against you a moment later.

Oberyn and Ellaria on top of him, shuffle closer as he caresses Raeden’s back. Enjoying the fucked out look on both of your faces and he hums in pleasure at what will be later. Raeden turns his head and the prince grips his chin to urge him to lift up. Pressing his lips to the other man’s in a sensual exchange. Many fraught days have brought the four of you here, but now that all has been revealed it will be a smoother course for your intertwined souls.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #Oberyn Martell x m!OC #Ellaria Sand x reader #Ellaria Sand x m!OC #female reader x m!OC #female reader #male original character #Game of Thrones #arranged marriage #soulmate au

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empressofmankind · 5 months

Text

The House Always Wins

[Crocodile x F!OC]

One line, two fics.

I had the absolute delight to see the draft of @tiredemomama her new fanfic about Zeff. And I loved this brief exchange so much:

“I don’t pay you to take naps on the line.” "You don't pay me at all."

I had to make my own.

Mine is significantly shorter (~500 words), but no matter. It'll no doubt get a longer version down the line. There are plans. I just had to get this one image out of my system right now.

Featuring Crocodile and Shivs when their relationship was still a ways from wrecking on the shoals. We're at Rain Dinners, Rainbase, Arabaste, about a decade ago, just like in 'Hooked On You.' What else do you need to know? Shivs is terrible at sitting on her hands, and can often be found at the tables as a poker dealer as a result. She can, and will, toss you if you give her shit at her table. One of their high roller didn't like it and took it up with the boss. That was surely a mistake.

Tag(s): Gambling. Language. Sexual tension. Obsessive behaviour. Don't you wish his impulse control was worse than it is? I know I do.

🐊 🐊🐊

Crocodile’s gaze swept across the casino floor, effortlessly finding her table. Two rows over, near the bar - thirteen. Shivs’d single-handedly made the number popular. She was dealing to a full round, smoking, talking to their patrons as she tossed the deck. Her table was always popular, and why shouldn't it be? She was a skilled dealer, and her casually personable manner and bold cheek exerted a magnetic pull on everyone around her. Even him.

She laughed then, a rolling thing full of good cheer, sweet on his ears, and for someone else. The gluttonous creature slumbering within him stirred from its sleep.

The patrons seated at the table shifted when they saw him approach. He could tell the regulars from the fresh faces by their manner - the former reclined back in their seats, the latter leaned forward. Shivs paid him no heed, though he was not foolish enough to think she hadn't noticed.

He leaned across her shoulder as he came up behind her, his hand resting on her hip. “I don't pay you to bother our high rollers into bothering me.”

“You don't pay me at all,” she said, dealing their patrons their two cards without missing a beat.

“Are you sure?” he rumbled in her ear as his fingers skimmed the crease of her inner thigh.

“Wanna join? Leo was just leaving.” She indicated the lanky man sitting directly to her left. A smooth recovery, but not smooth enough. He'd caught the little roll of her shoulders as she suppressed a pleasant shudder. She was a needy thing, and he greedily devoured every response he could coax from her.

“Why not,” he said and straightened, giving her firm butt a good squeeze before parting. The patron vacated their seat promptly, and a chip runner came over as he settled in it.

“Don't blind bet the rest of them under the table immediately.”

On a tone like that, there was no way he wouldn't. Though he took his sweet time, lighting a cigar and enjoying its taste before pushing the stack of chips up the table with two fingers.

“A'right. Gentlemen,” Shivs said as she put the community cards face down on the board. “This is a big boys' game now. No checks. Keep up or clear out.”

Near half the table folded and made a quiet exit. However, there were more than enough willing to take their vacated seats.

“Want a new hand or think you can crawl out of Leo's terrible luck?” she said when everyone had made it through the preflop.

“Luck?” Crocodile scoffed with a huff of smoke.

“Suit yourself, big shot.”

The cheek in the glance she tossed him made him consider bending her over the table. The ravenous beast pacing within the confines of his ribcage rumbled agreement as a smile twitched around his cigar.

Perhaps in a bit, he thought as he contemplated his cards.

🐊 🐊🐊

Horny hell seat reservations - @ruledbyproblematique @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail

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collecting-stories · 11 months

Text

November 29 - Racetrack Higgins

Request: can I request a little racetrack or finch x fem!reader where she has press night for a broadway show they’re in (your choice!) and he is just admiring her, maybe with a little 62 and 80 from prompt list?

A/N: I decided to set this in 1899 instead of doing an AU so I changed the zipper line because zippers weren't used on clothing until 1925. The play is Ben Hur, which premiered on Broadway on November 29 1899 and was a massive success at the time.

Broadway Masterlist

✰✰✰✰

You didn’t want to admit it but you were terribly nervous. Katharine was there in the bustle of people and press who had the privilege of attending the show that evenings, a rather exclusive who’s who of New York City elite, and you felt out of place, even in your new dress. It was nicer than anything you’d ever worn before, the sort of thing meant to impress wealth and prestige and yet, it felt like it was suffocating you.

As your co-star answered questions about the play you stood beside him, listening but hardly able to pay attention. While Katherine’s presence was reassuring, it didn’t quite provide the calm feeling that you were looking for. What you really wanted, as silly as it may have sounded to these people, was to be back at the boarding house with everyone. With nobody to impress, or at least with people who didn’t need you all dolled up in fancy clothes that felt like they were suffocating you, flashy red shoes and rogue on your cheeks. You just wanted to be back sitting on the rooftop with Racetrack, trying to stay cool in the summer and listening to all the sounds that threatened to keep you awake.

Katherine called your name softly as she came up beside you, offering the sort of well-mannered greeting (a polite kiss to your left cheek and a reassuring hand on your wrist) that belonged in upper society circles. “Seems you have an admirer.” She teased and you finally looked away from all the stuffy jackets and skirts in the room.

“What?”

“Look,” she instructed, nodding her head back so that you looked just beyond her shoulder. Standing there near the exit, in nicer clothes than you knew him to own, was Racetrack. Jack was standing with him, grinning at all the people hobnobbing their way about the lobby. Racetrack was looking right at you though, nothing seemed able to distract him as he stood there, grin on his face, watching you receiving praise from all the wealthy theatre goers of New York City.

When he realized that Katherine had told you he was there, he waved and mouthed a silent ‘hello’ to him. You held your hand up just enough that he could tell you were waving back and then you pointed off to the side, nodding your head in the same direction just in case Racetrack didn’t get the message to meet you at the side door. He nodded.

“You think anyone would mind if I sneak off?” You chanced asking Katherine, “just for a moment?”

“I’ll cover for you, promise.” She replied.

You snuck off as quietly as possible, weaving through the crowd and then slipping through the double doors into the theatre. You walked the empty aisle down to the stage, through the back and to the side door where Racetrack stood, already inside.

“You were supposed to wait for me to let you in.”

“Picked the lock,” he shrugged, smiling at you. There was a deep blush across his freckled cheeks as he stared at you, “you look beautiful, prettier than those Gibson girls.”

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face as you moved closer to him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. You and Racetrack had been friends for as long as you had been living on the street and you had liked him just as long. You’d wasted money on dances before, gone along with friends who were looking for a more secure future than a newsie had the means to offer, but nothing had ever stuck. You loved Race and you knew you did and whether it was the way he was looking at you or the fact that all your nerves had been calmed at the sight of him or even just the knowledge that it was your name on the marquee outside tonight, you wanted to make sure that he knew how much you loved him.

“Wow,” Racetrack looked a little dumbstruck when you pulled away, a dopey smile on his face, “thanks.”

“Thanks?” You nearly laughed, “...your welcome?”

“No I didn’t mean...I just meant...aw hell,” he shook his head before leaning forward initiating another kiss.

You had a marquee with your name on it and hundreds of guests crowding into the theatre to see you but all that felt like second best to the feeling of kissing Racetrack. You felt like there were butterflies in your stomach as you leaned back against the dressing table that had been set up in the tiny closet of a room you’d been given backstage. Outside the closed door you could hear footsteps and voices, people bustling around now that the preshow cocktail hour was over. Soon you’d be expected, ready and in costume, to go onstage.

“Racetrack,” you pushed gently at his chest, “Racetrack, I have to get ready.”

He nodded his head in understanding, though he didn't look ready to let go of you just yet, "I know," he lamented. And then, leaning in again, "I know I've kissed you like ten times but just another ten please?"

Before you could protest, a knock on your door let you know that you were expected out on the side stage, ready for your entrance. "I have to go," you insisted, pulling away. This time he let you though you didn't get too far, turning your back to him and looking over your shoulder, "can you help me do up this dress? Since you've somehow managed to undo it."

Racetrack smiled, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers, "nimble fingers," he replied. He did up your dress though, the brightest smile on his face the entire time. "Beautiful."

You could feel your face warm at his compliment. Racetrack always knew how to give your butterflies in your stomach. "Wait until I'm gone," you asked, checking your makeup in the mirror behind him, "I don't need anyone thinking I'm a charity girl."

"That'll be comical...after tonight you'll be the one giving me gifts for favors." Race teased, laughing when you swatted at him, "you think they got a name for that? A bloke who gets gifts from his girl, instead a the other way 'round?"

"I'll see you after the show," you promised, opening the door just enough that you could sneak out of your dressing room and blowing him a kiss that he caught and pressed to his heart.

#collecting stories imagine #racetrack x reader #racetrack imagine #racetrack higgins x reader #newsies imagine #newsies fanfiction #newsies fanfic #newsies oneshot

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blinkaftermidnight · 20 days

Note

About that road trip AU, what was the premise? Could we get a snippet?

Yeah absolutely! The basic premise was Leah overhears Fatin planning to flee California (because her parents were going to send her to boarding school in Oregon) and Leah tells her she should run away to New York with her. They should just road trip across the country together, because Leah knows someone in New York (Jeff). But of course on the way they get to know each other and catch feelings.

Each chapter was going to alternate POVs and was set in a different city. This one I had a rough outline for, so instead of a snippet, I'll give you the outline below the cut. No judging, though, because I wrote that in 2021 and haven't altered it to post here lol.

States:

California [Berkeley, Leah]

Leah runs away to try to meet up with Jeff in New York, Fatin runs away to escape being sent to Oregon for boarding school

Leah overhears Fatin talking about her plan to flee home (but doesn’t know the reason behind why) and butts in to tell her how stupid that plan is (running to Mexico? Please, that’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard. You won’t even get past the border) and Fatin challenges her to come up with something better, and Leah accepts, choosing New York (but not telling Fatin about Jeff) and they throw the plan together and leave in the middle of the night on a Friday

Fatin steals her dad’s Porsche Cayenne with terrible gas mileage plus one of his watches (that Fatin wears) and withdraws as much money as she can from an ATM; Fatin says they could sell the watch but Leah convinces her to hold off

Leah only packs a backpack and a duffel bag (which Fatin bitches about) and ends up sharing Fatin’s clothes when she runs out; Leah brings Jeff’s book [which has to be ditched at some point]

Nevada [Lovelock, Fatin]

Fatin hates the name Lovelock but they stop there because Fatin’s falling asleep behind the wheel and Leah forces her to stop at a shitty motel

The front desk guy thinks they’re dating and makes a shitty crack to Fatin about it and Fatin pretends to be Leah’s girlfriend to get a discount

They go to a casino, Fatin seduces the dude to get in, and they turn their $2,000 into $4,000

Leah takes over driving at the border in West Wendover, Nevada, and they argue over stopping in Salt Lake City; Leah finally agrees to drive them to Denver (4 and a half hours to West Wendover from Lovelock, 2 more hours to Salt Lake City, 8 hours from SLC to Denver)

Colorado [Denver, Leah]

They fight about detouring into Colorado because Fatin finds Wyoming boring even if the fastest route is through Wyoming (“and it is a road trip, after all”) but Fatin refuses to stop until they reach Colorado

They get high in Colorado, becoming tentative friends, almost kiss, forget about it, then have more fun

Nebraska [Lincoln, Fatin]

They sing their way through Nebraska, fuck around in the capital

Leah has to start borrowing Fatin’s stuff

Fatin finds The Nature of Her and Leah reluctantly confesses about Jeff

Iowa [Des Moines, Leah]

They argue about how to pronounce Des Moines, bitch about all the corn

Maybe they stop at a laundromat to do Leah’s laundry, and Fatin pushes for more info on Jeff, and they argue about it

Illinois [Chicago, Fatin]

They do touristy shit, go clubbing, kiss, and Fatin acknowledges her feelings but Leah freaks out because of Jeff

Leah borrows more of Fatin’s clothes even though they go shopping

Leah forces Fatin to pose in front of the Bean, and Fatin forces Leah to take pictures with herself in them

Indiana [South Bend, I-80/90, Leah]

They run out of gas in the middle of the night while Fatin’s driving and loses track, and they’re coming off the issues in Chicago, so Leah wakes up pissed and Fatin yells, “You think I WANT to be trapped in Indiana, of all places?”; Leah’s like “At least it’s not Ohio?” and Fatin rolls her eyes

They walk to the nearest exit, stay in a shitty hotel, and Fatin gets drunk and emotional and confesses her feelings for Leah but doesn’t remember in the morning

Leah feels bad and offers to sleep in the bathtub but Fatin’s drunk and sad and tells her to stay and they wake up together; morning is awkward but they buy a can of gas and walk back to the car

Michigan [Ann Arbor, University of Michigan, Fatin]

Leah, while Fatin’s sleeping off her hangover, drives them to the University of Michigan because she wants to tour the campus, just in case

Fatin realizes they’re running out of money and says they need to make better choices

They argue over using Fatin’s credit card, and they agree to withdraw money (another $1,000 which is all they have) in Michigan; they sleep at a rest area in Ann Arbor in their car then flee to Ohio in the morning

Ohio [Amherst, Leah]

Leah makes a joke about stopping in Cleveland, and as they’re nearby, Fatin gets a call from her parents, who have alerted Leah’s parents, but they think they’re in Michigan

Fatin’s parents think she ran away WITH Leah, and Fatin goes with it to try to piss them off more, and Leah blushes the whole time but can’t bring up Jeff and starts to realize she doesn’t care if they hit New York, just wants to spend more time with Fatin

They come across a bed and breakfast run by a nice lady who thinks they’re dating and Leah admits they’re stranded, so the lady offers them a nice place to stay and tells them that they’re a cute couple and only Leah hears

Fatin goes out because she’s upset with her parents, fucks some guy, returns to the room all fucked up and tells Leah she fucked some guy to try to get over her, and Leah gets really upset and refuses to argue and sleeps in the car, leaving Fatin in the room

Pennsylvania [Philadelphia, Fatin]

The bed and breakfast lady walks Fatin out, so they play nice until they’re out of sight

They fight about the previous night on most of the drive through Pennsylvania

Fatin: “Why are you getting so butthurt about who I fuck? It’s not like we’re anything.”

They alter their plan to head for New York, because Fatin doesn’t want to be there anyway and Jeff dumps Leah via text, which makes everything worse, and Leah cries which freaks Fatin out, so Fatin pitches the idea of seeing DC to cheer Leah up

Leah ditches Jeff’s book

Maybe they fuck? They get high again? Fatin stops them because she doesn’t want Leah to regret it but they sleep (just sleep) together and Fatin holds Leah, maybe Leah confesses she feels something for Fatin too, once they aren’t high anymore

Washington, DC [Leah]

They meet the other girls: Toni and Martha are on a field trip, Rachel and Nora are missing school to be on a family trip, Dot's dad got her a trip to DC instead, and Shelby’s conversion camp group took a trip to DC

Washington Monument: Rachel and Nora

Air and Space Museum: Toni and Martha and Shelby

Supreme Court Building: Fatin becomes temporary best buds with Dot while she’s bored because this is Leah’s thing, but Fatin gets Dot’s number because she seems cool (and that’s what she tells Leah)

Leah gets a call from her parents and they beg her to come home, so Fatin relents and they buy plane tickets once Fatin alerts her parents; they spend the night in DC and actually talk about their feelings and shit; Leah kisses Fatin and they probably sleep together

Gretchen’s the flight attendant, they sit in the same row as Linh, and Linh and Leah talk about academic bullshit

California [Berkeley, Fatin]

They’re back in school together, dating, probably bring in Ian

Both their parents came to their senses, got Leah therapy and dropped Fatin from the boarding school since it made them realize that’s why she ran away in the first place

Fatin’s friendship with Dot is flourishing, and Fatin talks to Leah about planning to take a trip to Texas over the summer to see Dot

#Anonymous #my fic #the wilds #leatin

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formula-juanmanuel · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2

pairing: female!driver oc x mick schumacher

word count: 4.5k words

warnings: explicit language, drinking, motorsport accidents, mentions of sex, mature themes, mentions of mental illness and side effects of this, mentions of prescribed medication, mentions of death

Chapter 2 is here much quicker than expected as I have been in bed sick all day so enjoy x

Comment to be included in the taglist :)

Exiting the plane at the Bahrain Intenational Airport filled me with nerves. My team tried to keep them at bay, joking and chatting with me the whole flight, through the airport and even out into the rental van waiting for us. Unfortunately my dad wasn’t going to be with me for testing and the first race, being stuck in Maranello negotiating a deal on a Ferrari Monza SP2. I joked with him that my 8 year friendship with Charles should have helped him slightly. He informed me that he would absolutely not be bringing that up.

Despite my dad not being next to me, I had all the other people I dreamed would be coming on this journey with me. Sitting next to me was Avery Waller, who had immediately pulled her laptop out to check her emails and find my itinerary sent through by Mercedes. Next to her was obviously Evan Dyer, my beloved trainer and physio, who was currently attempting to help Avery with her emails. I had met Evan at a gym back in Australia when he had started training me. When I made it to F3, I had asked him if he would want to come on board and train me as I travelled between races. He said yes without hesitation. I bought him a one way ticket and an apartment in Monaco and the rest was history. He was as sweet of a soul as they come which shocked most people who saw him. He was a heavily tattooed, pierced, buff man but he had always looked after me.

On the seat across from us was my childhood best friend of 14 years, Renee Ikari. She had her eyes closed and was leaning her head against my other best friend, Otis Diakos, who was rubbing her shoulder soothingly. The pair weren’t used to travelling and were pretty knackered. I smiled watching them, the dainty diamond engagement ring on Renee’s hand glistened as the morning sun slowly trickled through the windows of the van. They had been together for 5 years now and they were my biggest supporters. They knew nothing about racing except what I told them but they always tried to come to races around their jobs. They were chalk and cheese, Renee being short and petite, sweet and soothing while Otis was tall and built, funny and loud but they complimented each other so well and I was very lucky to have them.

Sitting next to them, directly across from me was Daniel Ricciardo, a man who needed no introductions. He was tapping away at his phone, I assumed to Heidi who was joining us in a few days when testing began. She had become a close friend through association to Daniel and I adored them together. Much like my friendship to Carmen and Lily, it was nice to have some female friends who understood me, also saving me from the crazy antics of their boyfriends too.

“Whatcha thinking about kiddo?” Daniel had now looked up from his phone and was putting it away and leaning forward to have a hushed conversation with me, trying not to wake up the lovebirds to his right.

“I honestly don’t even know what I am thinking about, I guess my biggest worry right now is that I hop in the car and I am terrible and it turns out my whole F2 career was a massive fluke and people won’t even blame it on me being awful, they will say it is because I am a woman and I will ruin the progress of women in motorsport for decades to come” With that I slumped forward and hung my head down between my hands.

A comforting shoulder squeeze followed and I looked up to Daniel, his toothy grin already making me slightly less stressed.

“You are doing it again, you are catastrophising. I know it is scary, trust me I do, but just enjoy the journey. What can you do to change the outcome now?”

“I know, there is nothing I can do till I get in that car and see what happens” I sighed, he was right as per usual.

“Exactly and I know for a fact that Bono will have your back the whole time you are in that car” I smiled, I was so excited to meet my new race engineer Peter Bonnington in person, having only chatted via Zoom when discussing car specifications for this 2026 season.

“Ok I feel a lot better. Thank you so much, for this and everything you have done for me over the last year” My lop-sided smile growing big on my face.

“There you go! Big smile is what we like to see” and with that he leaned back in his seat and gestured for me to look out the window. Infront of us stood the Bahrain International Circuit.

I had made it about 10 steps into the paddock before it felt like I had been hit by a car. Except this car was giggling and was actually made up of 4 Formula 1 drivers.

“Holy shit, you are going to injure me before I even get a chance to hop in the car!” I yelled out, laughing slightly at their antics.

I hadn’t seen the boys all off-season apart from George, having spent majority of it at the factory, in the simulator and preparing for this new season to begin.

“Mate, don’t even worry about getting injured. George will take you out in the first turn anyway” Lando had said, making himself and Alex laugh loudly. Charles rolled his eyes and George was left unimpressed, knowing his antics from the 2022 season would never be forgotten by Lando.

“Don’t be so mean Lando” I said punching his arm. I stood back for a second and looked at them as they looked at me.

“Oh come here you lot�� I said as I spread my arms as wide as they could go, engulfing them in a group hug. I was once again holding back tears at how happy I was to see them and because I was in the F1 paddock as a driver and not just as their supporter.

“We are all meeting for lunch right? I was thinking Mercedes hospitality considering George and I now have you guys outnumbered” I knew that would annoy them. George got to laugh at the others now while they rolled their eyes.

“Yeah, yeah whatever” Charles said as he turned around walking to the Ferrari motorhome, waving over his back to us as he left.

“Have fun and don’t knock Lori off the track, yeah?” Alex said patting George on the back and giving me an exaggerated wink. And with that, he was off. I had already congratulated him on his move to Audi for this season but seeing him in the black and red with the number ‘23’ on the back as he walked away made me very proud. He deserves better than a Williams and he deserved better than that god awful teammate. Thinking of Alex’s new teammate, Mick Schumacher, however made a soft blush cross my face.

“You coming?” George said snapping me out of my daydream.

“Yeah of course” I said looking up at him. “Wait where did Lando go?” I said turning around.

“He snuck off to go and annoy Danny. He is very excited to have him back in the paddock again” I chuckled knowing that we had discussed how he was more excited that Danny was with me than me actually having a spot in F1.

“Home sweet home” George said holding the Mercedes hospitality door open for me. The rest of my team, minus Daniel, had made there way there already and were chatting with one another and a few of my Mercedes crew.

“It’s so nice to finally get to see you face to face” Turning to my left I was met with Peter Bonnington. Peter, or more commonly known as Bono was Lewis’ senior race engineer and with me taking his place, he was now mine.

“I have to say as a Mercedes fan of over a decade, I am absolutely awestruck right now. But as a professional, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you” I stuck out my hand to shake his as he chuckled at me.

“The awe will wear off very quickly I suspect, Lori. Thank you for your email about the engineering specs, I wasn’t sure if you would understand my rambles given how new you are to the sport but I actually adjusted some settings based on your recommendations. Are you sure you are meant to be a driver and not an engineer?” He chuckled as we walked together towards the garage.

“I was a mechanic apprentice before all of this” I said, gesturing around. “But no, I live for being behind the wheel”

As we walked up to the garage, I looked up at the banner on my side. It showed me standing there in my Mercedes racing suit, arms crossed and stern gaze ahead. Next to it my name and racing number in Petronas blue.

“Pretty cool, huh” Bono said, turning to me. “This way” he said, leading me through the garage and towards a what looked like a group of mechanics and pit crew.

As I walked over, they turned to me and the nerves that had disappeared for a while returned. Would they respect me? I mean they had worked for THE Sir Lewis Hamilton and here I was, a 27 year old Australian girl who got into motorsport way too late.

“Hey guys, it is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lori Hoffmann but I go by Lo as well” I discreetly wiped my hands down my pant legs. Bahrain was only 22 degrees, light work compared to the Australian Summer but I was sweating bullets.

“Lori, it is fantastic to finally meet you. My name is Ian Dixon, I am the head of your pit crew. I can’t begin to explain how excited we all are. Watching you come through the ranks and finally now racing for Mercedes, it truly is a pleasure” he said, shaking my hand continuously. I blushed slightly and shook his hand back with the same level of enthusiasm.

He finally let go, putting his hands back in his pockets, smiling from ear to ear. He was definitely a dad, I could just tell by looking at him, he was stout and about 5 '10 with ginger hair and a smile that made me feel completely safe. I liked him already.

I turned to the next person in the circle and a slender, professional looking woman looked back at me with a smile like sunshine. She could not have been older than me. I hadn’t initially noticed her but she leaned forward and shook my hand.

“Such a pleasure Lori. We briefly met over Zoom but I am sure you have met so many people. I’m Sally Austin and I will be working as your press officer” she stood with such grace I suspected she had to have been a ballerina at some point in her life. Sleek brunette hair pulled back by a headband. Mercedes polo, tailored black pants and loafers that I knew I would die having to wear all day except she looked completely comfortable.

“I am so sorry, I have met so many people and my head is still swirling with it all. It is a pleasure to meet you. I promise to be on my best behaviour for you” I said the last part rather sheepishly. Surely she had been informed of my attitude towards the media, only the ones that deserved it but I definitely didn’t hold back at all.

“Behave, pfffft, Lo has never behaved in her life when it comes to the media” Hands on my shoulders, Daniel was chuckling, knowing he was pushing my buttons. He shook me back and forward a bit while pulling a silly face.

“Thank you for helping me make good first impressions, Ricciardo” I said sarcastically. I turned back to Sally. “I really will try though”

“Don’t worry Lori, I am not going to let you get walked over and not be able to defend yourself. Toto and I have discussed this and we have a plan of attack if any discriminatory comments are made”

I exhaled a breath that I realised I had been holding since my first day in Brackley. I was with a team that wanted to look after me. I was going to be ok this year. I wouldn’t be facing things alone.

Sally showed me to my driver’s room and left me to get settled in before a track walk and a few social media duties after lunch.

As I slid open the door that had my number stuck to it, I dropped my backpack onto the couch and looked around. A box sat on the table tied up with a pink ribbon. “Huh”.

I picked up the box and plopped down on the couch, crossing my legs like a school child. On top, tucked under the ribbon was an envelope. ‘Ace’ was all that was written on it and I knew immediately who it was from. I began to open it, trying to slow my breath and swallow the pressure building in my throat. Inside the envelope was not a card but infact a letter scribble onto a piece of letter head paper with the words ‘Dutton Garage’ down the bottom left hand corner. I chuckled to myself and felt the tears build in my eyes. I leaned my head back to blink them away before I began to read.

To my beautiful, talented Ace

I am so sorry that I could not be there with you today, I was hoping that the Ferrari deal would have been finalised by now. If it makes you feel better, I will let you take it for a spin when we get it back to Australia, if you are allowed to drive a Ferrari now with this new contract of yours.

I know we have spoken about it and how excited and proud I am of you but I know that I am not always very good at expressing my emotions. I just want you to know that I think you are the absolute bees knees, Ace. I know if your mother was still here, she would think the exact same thing. She would also definitely be asking you to slow down a bit though. “Lori, BRAKES! Lori, seriously?” That was what she was like when I would drive her around. It still makes me chuckle to think about some times, I can take credit for you being a rev head.

Everything else though you owe to your mother. I do always wish you could have met her. You are courageous in the face of adversity and you are warm, kind and protective of all your loved ones. Where others would say “this is too hard” or “it doesn’t affect me”, you stand with those in need and that is what has always reminded me of your mother. Before you got into cars, I always thought you would be a nurse just like her. You are so selfless in nature, a trait that the world barely sees with a professional racing driver.

I can still remember your first day on a go kart track, you refused to hop out of the car because you were so scared you were going to make a fool of yourself. Your hands were shaking so much that you couldn’t even braid your own hair and just like when you were 5 and heading off to school, I braided it for you and have and will continue to braid your hair for you before every race. You are a 1 in 7 billion talent and I saw that as you drove around that track.

Your first lap was 1:03:22 and the boys and their dads chuckled to me, saying that she drives like a girl and that there was a reason there weren’t any other girls there. I waved you back into the pits and lifted your visor and looked you in the eye and I said “Ace, the only one that can tell you ‘you can’t do this’ is you, and you do not have to listen”. I flipped your visor down and patted your helmet and you were out of the pit lane. Your next lap was a 45:845, missing the track record by 2 seconds. I looked over at those dads and I remember that I just couldn’t help myself. “Maybe if your boys drove like a girl, they would be better”.

You are a fighter and I know how much you have been through to get here. I wish I had known how much you were struggling, possum. I would have dropped everything to get to you. That had to be the scariest phone call I had ever received from Angelo. But how you managed to come back stronger than ever shows just how amazing you are.

You could come in P20 on the next race and I will still be so proud. I will be watching the whole thing, I told the Maranello crew that I would need to.

“Straight roads never made skillful drivers”

Lots of love, cannot wait to see you in Melbourne very soon.

Papa x

P.S. Don’t wear the necklace during your races, not worth wasting your penalty points on. Also Mr. Benson changed the badge on his Corvette.

I chuckled at the last part of the letter, dad had always had a thing for humour, although I was confused about Mr. Benson, one of the Dutton Garage regulars being included in there. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and unwrapped a small velvet box and inside that was a dainty gold chain with a ‘79’ pendant on it. As I looked closer I gasped and recognised the squares of white and black. “Holy shit”. My dad had made the pendant out of Mr Benson’s 1979 Corvette badge. The first car I ever drove and my reason for being here.

“I got your little present. Danke schön Papa” was the little text I shot off, knowing that it didn't even begin to show how much I loved it. We would talk soon and I would thank him then. I propped my phone up on the table as a mirror and tried to put on my necklace. A knock on the door startled me and I was reminded how long I had disappeared for.

“Hey gangster, how are you going?” Daniel looked into my eyes and noticed the tears and me fiddling with a necklace clasp.

“I wondered what was in the box” he said as he walked over to help me do up the clasp.

“You put it here?” I asked, looking at the wall in front of me while he fiddled with the chain, trying to get it to close.

“Of course I did, carried this bad boy all the way from Australia. All right, turn around and show us!” and as I spun around he looked to the pendant. “Oh my god, is that a Corvette badge?” Danny carefully picked it up and looked at it.

“Yep, THE Corvette, original badge and everything” I whispered, still shocked at how far my dad had gone to retrieve it for me.

“That is fucking sick!” he said letting go off the chain. “Ready to take it for a track walk?” he raised his eyebrow.

“Born ready” and with that I pushed him out the door with me following behind, laughs coming from both of us.

The track walk was surprisingly fun. I was given a scooter by the team so that I didn’t have to walk, keeping my energy and avoiding blisters before testing. I was incredibly thankful as I needed all guns blasing for testing coming up in 2 days.

I flew into the pit lane after having raced George back on the scooters.

“I win! Sucked in bitch!” I yelled, having crossed the start/finish line first.

“Yeah, yeah, well I let you win” George stuttered back.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, mate” I said, clapping him on the back.

As we got off our scooters, I looked up to see Alex, smiling like he had just caught George red handed. “You just lost you, idiot!”

“Good to see you too mate! You ready to round up the troops for lunch?”

“Yes sir! I was going to ask, mind if I bring Mick along?” Alex’s eyes briefly flicked over to me and then back to George.

“More the merrier, I say!” and with that George was heading back to hospitality to wait for the rest of our friends. George and Mick were rather close, Mick having been the Mercedes reserve driver for the last few years, being a massive contributor to the top level car we had again.

“Is that ok with you too?” Alex bumped shoulders with me and wiggled his eyebrows.

“God, what is wrong with you, Albono?” I said angrily but the blush on my face had deceived me. Not like it mattered, Alex was the only one of the group with the emotional maturity to realise how I looked at Mick. In fact, I hadn’t even realised till he pointed it out.

“I will meet you guys there, ok? I am going to go and find Novalak, haven’t seen him once today” Waving goodbye I set off in the direction of the Alfa Romeo garage.

Peeking my head in, I spotted the back of Clement Novalak’s head, adorned with large headphones. He was moving his hips side to side and reading over what looked to be an engineering document. It was like he created these scenarios himself. Without fail, I tiptoed right up to him and blew lightly on the back of his neck, dodging as his hand came around to swat whatever he thought was there. I repeated the action and again he did too. I repeated once more and he swung around, releasing what sounded like a scream and a growl at the same time.

Before he could think, I had wrapped my arms around his torso and hugged him so tight he pretended to gasp for air.

“Mon canard! How good to see you! I must say the old black and teal looking rather superb” he said in one of his silly accents and making what appeared to be a duck face.

“I am absolutely starving, are you coming for lunch?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, mate! Let’s go” and with that he had linked our arms and started skipping, allowing me to be dragged behind before my feet could find there way.

As we walked we chatted about our new teams and who we had met so far. It was absolutely amazing listening to Clem and how happy he was to have finally arrive in F1. He had the biggest smile on his face and he looked very happy in the red and white polo bearing his number on the back.

Just as we were about to turn the corner into the Mercedes hospitality, having already waved to the boys sitting under an umbrella outside, I felt my face connect with what felt like a plank of wood.

Startled, I looked up and realised that I had unfortunately ran into a plank, he just wasn’t made of wood. Looking back at me with an arrogant look on his face was Logan Sargaent.

“Sorry I didn’t see you there. You kind of blend in with all the other woman running around after us drivers” he chuckled to himself.

“Hello Logan, good to see you again. I love what you’ve done with your hair, the way you get it to come out of your nostrils like that is incredible” Beside me Clem snorted before realising that maybe he shouldn’t have and instead decided to stand there with a shit eating grin on his face.

“You know most females don’t talk to men like that”

“I didn’t realise women talk to you full-stop. Anyway I am busy, lunch with my friends, i would suggest you go do the same thing but we both know you don’t have friends”

With that I walked off, pulling Clem who was giving Logan a death stare.

“That looked exciting” Charles said, looking over my face for any signs of upset as we took a seat at the table.

“Pleasant as always, he is” and with that I stabbed my salad with a fork, thanking George for grabbing me one from the kitchen.

We all talked while we ate, different conversations ranging from soccer, to video games to our hopes and dreams for the season were had.

“How are you feeling, Lori?” I looked up to meet those beautiful blue eyes and immediately broke eye contact, opting to look at his food instead.

“Better than I have all week, I was so nervous” I slightly yelled out, trying to talk over the other 2 conversations that were happening simultaneously. “Wait a second, I will come over there”

Grabbing my salad and water bottle, I squeezed in next to Mick and then pushed everyone back down to make some room.

“Sorry about that, I was just saying that I feel the most reassured right now than I have all week. What about you? How are you feeling moving teams?” I smiled warmly at him. He nodded along.

“I remember it all too well. I am really excited to be getting back onto the grid and in a top performing car, although I guess that is meant to be hush-hush till testing so you didnt hear that from me” he giggled.

“I won’t tell a soul” I leaned in to whisper before going back to my salad.

“Always, Lori, don’t listen to Logan, all of us are really excited to be racing against you. He is just threatened”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be racing me, he is in a Williams” I chuckled to myself.

“Hey! I heard that!” Alex looking at me with mock horror on his face.

“I said what I said” Poking out my tongue at him, he did the same before Lily smacked him for poor table manners.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mick chuckling at our antics. Oh how badly I wanted what I knew I could not have.

@eternalharry @stillbreathin

#formula 1 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #daniel ricciardo #clement novalak #lando norris #george russell #mercedes amg petronas #charles leclerc #nyck de vries #alexander albon #driver!reader #driver x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fic

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