#the tomorrow people 2013 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dpr-stay · 9 months

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Cupid | LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, reader is a press officer, don't think gender is stated specifically, implied sexual content, second chance romance, she is not edited, zhou guanyu does not crash, and there are swears.

WC: ~7.7k (kill me now)

I literally hate this, im so sorry. I haven't edited it because it's late but I hope it's not bad. I'll edit it tomorrow. also how is it so longgg, it was supposed to be 5k at best. (why have i written two fics about exes having dinner?)

Being Valtteri Bottas’ PR Agent was a wild ride. From being hired by him in his early days at Williams, to his successful years at Mercedes, and now at Alfa Romeo, you’d gotten to know the man through all stages of his career. You’d been there to field off questions about his declining performance at Mercedes and had been the first one to slam open the door and start yelling at him after the ‘cheated-on-his-wife’ rumours started floating around.

However, the paycheck was good and, when he wasn’t causing you to spend many nights in meetings about his public image, you didn’t mind the guy, happy to have to follow him around the world for most of the year.

The whole Formula One thing was also a bonus, you having been hooked on the sport after your Dad introduced it to you at an early age. You’d spent countless hours watching your dad watch the car’s speed by on his tv set, finally deciding to pay attention to the race after a few years. And boy, did you love it.

You’d spent many an early birthday present forcing your parents to take you to the Grand Prix nearest to you, saving up for months to be able to afford the tickets and the travel. Something about the sport just intrigued pre-teen you, nothing to do with Michael Schumacher at all.

So, when the chance to be a F1 driver’s personal PR agent had landed on your advertisement agency’s desk, the place you had worked in the early days of your career, you had snatched it up quickly. The work started well before the start of the 2013 season, you having to meet the man himself and quickly getting adjusted to the many people you’d need to know to network for the guy.

You’d also met Maldonado’s PR agent, one from the Williams team, who quickly brought up the ideas of doing interviews and press releases between the two drivers. You were swept into the world of the sport, beginning to get into the swing of things.

Years passed, as did teammates, and Valtteri got signed to Mercedes alongside Lewis Hamilton. You didn’t know if your employment would carry over to Mercedes, but a team shirt and a letter letting you know about when Valtteri’s responsibilities started being mailed to your house confirmed it pretty quickly.

The atmosphere at Mercedes was more professional, though the team still treated each other as family. You’d often see engineers leaving together, going to go get drunk and celebrate Lewis’ common wins and Valtteri’s less common, but still happening, wins.

You’d often spend hours at a time bargaining for spots for Valtteri in interviews and in PR related spots, and it worked. He was a well-known man, your job was practically done. The bosses were (finally) appeased, Valtteri was happy, and you could finally relax after years straight of stressing about social media and whatever the hell a vine was and if that was still relevant.

And then you’d gone and got yourself trapped in an elevator with Lewis Hamilton.

Being a Mercedes employee, though only temporary, you’d met Lewis often during interviews and team meetings. However, you never really know a person until you spend five hours sitting opposite each other in a broken-down elevator, only being able to see each other by the light of your phone's flashlight, waiting for some sort of help as there was no signal.

Your conversation had started off hesitantly, you incredibly intimidated by the several-time world champion and him having a fleeting idea of who you were. The conversation had eventually fizzled out till the lift jolted, and a creaking sound echoed into the cavern of the contraption.

Your telling groan that you couldn’t hold back elicited a concerned “You alright?” from Lewis and then you eventually had to tell the professional F1 driver, who raced cars at over 200km/h every other weekend, about your fear of small spaces.

He hadn’t judged you for it, something which you thought was rather nice, and had even tried to adjust for you, moving to the very other side of the small box. Granted, your feet still touched, but you thought the sentiment was nice.

He was more down to earth than you expected, you knew he wasn’t a prick but you weren’t expecting him to be… kind. Soon enough, after a few more questions about why you were afraid of small spaces and other questions, you both had spiraled into boundless conversation.

You had talked about things you’d never talked about with someone, let alone a practical stranger, his soothing accent making it easier to open up to him. Things like the future and where it would take you, uncertainties about both your careers, even relationships, the type of conversations you only have trapped in a suspended metal box in the dark.

Lewis was a fantastic person to talk to. He’d listen when he needed to and returned your conversation with equal energy, as though he actually wanted to be part of the conversation. For some reason he had decided to trust you and had talked freely to you, showing you a side that you doubted many people had seen.

Maybe it was the fact he couldn’t see your face or maybe you just gave off a trustworthy vibe. You didn’t know. All you knew was that, all of a sudden, you were one of Lewis Hamilton’s most trusted confidants.

Even after someone had finally realised you were missing and exactly where you were, calling more firemen than necessary to bust open the lift though you supposed that’s what you were supposed to do when a ‘Sir’ was trapped in an elevator, Lewis had asked for your phone number and had continued to text you.

You’d met up a few times over the season, quickly becoming incredibly close friends who told each other everything. You’d had to deal with a few teases from Valtteri, who’d shut up when you reminded him who controlled the public’s opinion of him.

During the off-season Lewis had invited you to come to his house for dinner. You’d went, it was lovely, and then you’d unknowingly experienced the moment of truth in your weird friendship/developing relationship.

You’d been sitting at Lewis’s dinner table, eagerly chatting to the man about your family, leaning in closer and closer until the both of you were nearly leaning over the table. He’d cooked for you, an act you found incredibly sweet for the multi-millionaire who probably had ten private chefs on speed-dial, and you’d spent the evening wining and dining.

You had both finished your main courses, talking about everything and anything when a loud bang had come from the upstairs of the man’s house. He glossed right over it, ignoring the loud sound. You had been about to comment on it but, at his nonchalance, you deigned not to.

The conversation had continued, you both moving from his table to the couch he owned, which probably cost more than your salary earned you, when another loud sound, which sounded suspiciously like a bark, reverberated through his open-plan house.

He sighed loudly at your questioning look, deciding that he couldn’t ignore it this time. He opened his mouth to speak but, before he could utter a syllable, the tapping of claws sounded against the stairs located, conveniently, in view of his living room.

You looked up and there stood one of the largest Bulldogs you had ever seen. It was almost majestic, the way that he stood there on the steps, panting as though he’d just run a race. His brown coat was shining in the twilight glow, his muzzle a white colour in comparison to the rest of his body.

He took a few steps down the stairs, tripping on one before regaining his posture. You could only watch in wonder, mouth agape, as the beautiful beast padded down the steps and took a turn, approaching you head on.

The dog was a thing of beauty, his droopy face conveying no discernable emotion except from being tired. He slowly made his way to the couch, you doing nothing but watching as he trotted along the hardwood floors. You didn’t catch Lewis staring at you warily as you were only focused on the thing that younger you would’ve fought a clan of savage chipmunks in order to have.

The dog eventually made his way in front of you, plopping his behind down on the carpet and staring up at you questioningly. You didn’t know what emotion your face was conveying, you only knew it was very silent.

You cautiously reached a hand down to rub between his ears. After a second of your rubbing he made a gruff ‘woof’ sound and you couldn’t help it, an entranced whine releasing from your throat. Collapsing onto the floor beside the dog, you forgot about Lewis, focusing completely on the magnificent specimen of a dog.

Roscoe, as you’d soon come to know via a fond Lewis, took to you as soon as you took to him. Within a minute the dog was letting you handle him as much as you’d like, rolling over on his back to let you get his stomach and vigorously licking your arm as you pet him. Praises spilled from your lips abound, making sure to let the bulldog know just how much of a good boy he was.

At a cough you turned from your spot on the floor to face Lewis, the radiant grin he had on his face making you feel as though you’d passed a test of sorts. Roscoe also turned to look at Lewis before turning back to you and huffing.

He moved forward, stepping on your legs, trying to sit on you, before falling off the slope onto the carpet. You then picked him up and cuddled him, trying to keep eye-contact with Lewis as you did so. Lewis’ eyes had turned into half moons as he watched you love on his dog, his smile consuming his face.

“I’m glad he likes you, I don’t know what I would’ve done if he didn’t.” He admitted, placing his drink on a wooden table that stood beside the couch. He then slowly slid from the couch onto the floor beside you, leaning his body down till he was face-to-face with Roscoe and gave the dog a kiss.

“He’s got good taste.” You commented and Lewis released a laugh, glancing up at you.

“Me or the dog?” He asked after a second and you paused, overdramatically placing a finger on your chin and tilting your head as though you were thinking. You then shrugged and he laughed again, you not missing the incredibly familiar twinkle in his eye as he looked at you.

After that, you’d found that Lewis was a lot more eager to meet at his house. Roscoe, accompanied by the sheepish man, was bowling you over nearly every time the door was opened to you. Lewis had also made the trip to your house, though you doubted he’d seen a house as small as yours within the last ten years. He seemed to like it though, settling in quickly and even staying there when you were at work. The off-season had continued like that, casually building your relationship between his training and your many meetings with Alfa Romeo, trying to settle the discussions about your contract after Valtteri’s move.

You’d finally gotten somewhere just before the season started after having to plead to not be replaced by an inside hire, Valtteri backing you up and stating he wouldn’t race without you. Alfa Romeo had accepted and then you finally had the contract you’d wanted.

You’d left the meeting, Valtteri in tow, before turning around and hugging the man for having your back before you both said goodbye and made your way home and to the gym respectively.

The uber ride you’d hired was peaceful, the man staring straight ahead as you looked out the window, your small apartment building coming into your view. You smiled as you saw it, thinking of the Lewis you’d left in bed that morning, having to pull yourself out before him to go to your meeting.

The climb up the steps (the elevator didn’t work which Lewis hadn’t complained about when you’d explained it in embarrassment) had seemed to take forever no matter how fast you climbed. When you’d finally made it to your floor, you had to practically drag yourself across the hallway to your door, unlocking it with force after the lock had gotten stuck.

Immediately you could tell something was off, the place seemed colder than that morning and it didn;t have to do with the fact the thermostat had broken a few months ago. All the lights were off and there was no noise coming from within, a telltale sign that Lewis was somewhere within whether he was listening to music or talking to someone.

That was ok, though, he might’ve been at a meeting like the one you’d had, though you doubted there would be less than 7 zero’s on his contract. But that’s the difference between a big team and Alfa Romeo, you work with what you get.

You looked to the side table, placing your keys in the bowl, noticing the absence of Lewis’ keys. But that made sense if he was at a training session or a meeting, so you continued into the apartment, losing components of your outerwear as you went.

You’d lost your scarf and blazer as you’d made your way to your bedroom, prepared to change from your business outfit into one of Lewis’ many shirts when you opened your closet. A quick rummage and you couldn’t find any. Weird.

You checked again before moving to another part of your closet and noting the lack of his hoodies or jumpers, which was even weirder as you’d stolen a few of them last week. You turned and moved to your dresser, an old antique wooden piece you’d picked up from an op-shop a few years ago after seeing it and falling in love.

You’d opened your drawer specifically for pajamas and found everything you’d acquired through your time of living independently but Lewis’ shirts. Moving to the many drawers Lewis used specifically when he’d stay over, a small inkling of panic settled in your stomach however you ignored it and opened the drawer.

Nothing. There was nothing left in the drawer. You quickly opened all his other drawers, almost pulling them out of the dresser with the force you were applying. All of them were empty. This caused the inkling to grow to an uneasy pool. Maybe he’d taken them to wash them at his place?

You stepped back from the dressers, incredibly confused and vehemently denying the growing panic in you. You walked, not ran, into your bathroom. The lonely toothbrush sitting on the counter sent a strange feeling, almost like adrenaline, rushing through you. Opening the cupboards under the counter you noted the loss of his extra face wipes and the moisturizers he insisted on using.

You ran to your kitchen, not seeing anything off, before slamming into the back of the couch in your open plan apartment in your haste to get into the living room. The action caused pain to ring through your shins but you barely registered it, the missing cd’s that normally sat on the table your tv was balancing on that he had insisted were better than Spotify the only thing you were focused on.

A quick look down the hallway to the door of your apartment only furthered your dread, noticing details you hadn’t seen before. The missing stack of shoes that he normally toed-off at the door and the missing extra wallet he left on the side table in case someone broke in almost confirmed your fears.

But what really set in the fact that he’d packed up and left was the missing leash that normally hung from a hook you’d installed specifically on the back of your front door. The inscribed ‘Roscoe’ on the hook seemed almost mocking from your place on the couch, but you couldn’t really acknowledge it, the tears filling your eyes blurring your vision.

You stood up from the couch and stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the open drawers shut, not hearing the splintering of the vintage wood. You picked up your phone from your bed that you’d tossed earlier in your haste to become relaxed, and opened your messages.

He hadn’t sent anything to you explaining his leaving and when you went to send a text (‘??? Where are you’) the message that you’d been blocked popped up at the bottom of the screen. You could only stare at the screen for a second, the implications of what he’d done sending emotional shockwaves through you.

You barked out a sardonic laugh, your hand flopping from its position in front of you to be held uselessly at your side, your phone slipping from your grasp onto the floor. The world went still for a moment before you lifted a hand to cover your vision, the tears slipping from your eyes wetting your hand.

You sat alone on your bed that had, not even 24 hours ago, contained what you had thought was your future. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry at this point, the grief for something that was evidently never meant to be controlling your thoughts. A long deep sigh left you before it was interrupted by a sob. And then another sob.

You ended up falling asleep alone that night, still dressed in the smart pants and white shirt you’d worn to your meeting. Your only lullaby was your sobbing, not the sound of his gentle humming, something which you kept reminding yourself of.

Valtteri had commented that you’d seemed sad the next time he’d seen you but neither of you had addressed it past that, him knowing when to keep his mouth shut. He especially knew to shut up after the intense glare you had fixed him.

The season had started again and, while you were prepared for your duties as a PR agent, Valtteri’s full calendar being proof enough for that, you weren’t sure you were prepared to see Lewis again. Especially after the news that he was already seeing someone else had come out a week before the first race.

You’d returned Valtteri’s knowing glance with as much strength as you could muster and promptly ignored his further pitying look, choosing to feel sorry for yourself at home that night. You’d also ignored his attempts to try to get you to talk to Tiffany, you liked the woman but you didn’t think you should burden her with your ridiculous, because that’s what it was looking back, delusions that you could’ve been something more than just a summer fling to Lewis Hamilton.

You’d successfully managed to avoid Lewis the whole first couple of races, eventually beginning to see fleeting glances of him throughout the paddock. Seeing him for the first time with his partner had hurt but, looking at her, you couldn’t exactly blame him.

She was gorgeous and, after you’d done a bit of searching, was exactly his previous type. She was wealthy and had a respectable job, someone worthy of being with him. You’d made sure to avoid him after that.

You kept on at work though, determined to be the best goddamn PR Agent Alfa Romeo had ever seen. And you were succeeding. Valtteri was getting brand deals and after more positive press around him and his dedication to the sport regardless of his company, you were finally able to relax.

And by relaxing, you meant getting wasted at a bar. In fairness, last time you’d relaxed you’d ended up more broken hearted than you’d ever been, so releasing some steam at a bar had seemed an appropriate route.

And it was, being able to drink away your sorrows and spill your guts out to a bartender in a small rundown pub in the middle of Canada was the perfect way to unwind. You hadn’t told the whole story of course, you resented the guy for what he did to you but you didn’t want to tarnish his reputation, but it was nice to tell it to some random person who probably didn’t even understand the way you were switching between Swedish, English, and Finnish.

You’d woken up the next morning with a heavy weight off your shoulders and a nice Canadian man in your hotel bed, sending him off with a promise to call before promptly adding his phone number to your phone. Valtteri could tell something had changed when you’d walked into his driver’s room the next day, prepared to tell him about his schedule. You greeted his questioning look with a smirk and he shook his head, a disbelieving look on his face.

You’d found that you hadn’t thought about Lewis the whole day, when you’d settled into your hotel bed the night after the race. A warm feeling had spread through you at that, the knowledge that the man no longer consumed your thoughts making you feel good inside.

The next race weekend you were ready to go, the British GP making you pumped. You weren’t so pumped when Valtteri DNF’ed and were mentally preparing answers for the Finn as the race continued, briefing him on every response you could think of in relation to the gearbox issue. Zhou Guanyu did well in his race though, so the garage was quite excited for him, even though Valtteri hadn’t finished.

When the interviews had rolled around after all of the celebrations, you were following Valtteri on the walk to his first interview, eventually stopping to the side of him as a mic was held in front of him and the cameras had started rolling.

Typical questions such as if he was happy for his teammate and if he was happy with the car were asked, some weirder questions such as if he thought the car’s not-working had to do with some obscure political issue before eventually the interview was wrapped up and the Finn moved on to his next interview, you following him.

You could see other drivers beginning to arrive in the area, being interviewed before you quickly looked away, not wanting to see if he was close. You’d managed to avoid him thus far today, how hard could a few more hours be?

You’d thought that before you heard the faint but tell-tale bark of Roscoe and you had to force yourself not to turn around and run to the dog. Lewis had mentioned bringing the dog to his home race at some point while you were together, so you weren’t exactly surprised at Roscoe’s presence.

Valtteri’s interview was continuing in the background of your mind as you thought over the nights you’d spent cuddled with Roscoe and Lewis. Did you miss him or Lewis more? Did Lewis even miss you?

Valtteri nudged you in the side, his eyes wide and you snapped back to reality, staring at the interviewer.

“Pardon?” You asked, politely trying to make it seem as though you just hadn’t heard them and were paying attention.

“I just asked if Valtteri preferred Mercedes or Alfa Romeo.” The interviewer filled in and you turned to Valtteri, a questioning look on your face. Surely he could handle that question? He vehemently shook his head. Alrighty then.

You brought out both your hands in front of you, prepared to gesture out an answer for Valtteri to say. But before you could a large force had pounded into your back, knocking you to the floor and landing on top of you. The weight was heavy but it was warm and… was it licking you? “Roscoe! Oh my god, I am so sorry!” A voice came from behind you.

Oh no.

While you had been mentally preparing an answer for Valtteri, Lewis had been walking around the media area, Roscoe in tow on a leash. The dog had been restless ever since he’d entered the pen, Lewis echoing that sentiment as he saw a brief glimpse of you. He wanted nothing more than to run to you but he couldn’t with media responsibilities weighing him down.

Eventually the interviewer’s fill of Roscoe was full and he was able to do a little bit of wandering around the area. Lewis had handed the leash of the now-agitated Roscoe to Angela as he went to go answer some more questions, the press incredibly curious about the dynamics of the car.

Angela, bless her soul, had tried her best to wrangle the dog, but his continuous pulling and barking was beginning to annoy some of the media. Seeing this, Angela had decided to just let the dog pull her away, Roscoe almost dragging her as he went.

He had pulled her almost completely across the room before he got too violent and managed to rip the leash from her hands, leaving Angela stumbling in the dust as he began to run. Lewis had watched this happen, and continued to watch in horror as Roscoe ran up behind you.

One gigantic leap and you were pushed to the floor, the big bulldog nuzzling into your neck. The world seemed to almost go quiet before Angela ran over, trying to grab the collar of the rabid dog, asking if you were ok.

Lewis had started to move over, dismissing the reporter who he was talking to as he made his way to his dog and his ex-lover. He saw you roll over on the floor, a small sad smile on your face as the dog began slobbering over you. A few more steps and he was in front of you, scolding Roscoe and apologising as he effortlessly grabbed the dog’s collar and pulled him back.

You tried not to look in his eyes, knowing all your effort of trying to get over him would be null if you saw his face. You ignored the hand he extended, instead smoothing down your clothes as you sat on the floor, only pulling yourself up when he awkwardly lowered his hand, framing it as if you just didn’t see.

He knew though, he’d developed the unfortunate skill of reading you.

You didn’t look at him as you assured him you were fine and that he should continue with his interviews, only sparing a glance at Angela who looked at you with a regretful hint in her eyes. You didn’t want to think about that more than you had to, waving them off to more interviews.

You turned around before you could see Lewis leave, thankfully not seeing the longing he had displayed over his face as he turned away, back to his interviews.

Would you have been able to hold it together if you’d seen the look he’d shot you? No. Were you when you watched it back after the weekend? Also no.

You turned back to Valtteri, cracking a quick joke, before he got back to his interviews. You spent the rest of that day picking gravel out of your palms, trying to forget about the whole interaction. You wouldn’t let this break your progress, the handsome Canadian man in your contacts getting a ring that night as you tried to distract yourself.

After a few days of you cursing Roscoe for trying to see you while also feeling as though you should arrange some sort of custody agreement so you could see the beautiful beast, a notification had popped up on your phone. It was a recommended tweet, a news article about how Lewis had apparently split from his “new fling”.

That sent you spiraling, questioning why on earth the algorithm had thought to show you this and wondering what you’d done wrong in your past life in order for this to be what was happening to you.

You’d only become more confused a day later, when Angela had sent you an email, saying that Lewis would like to meet up and apologise because of the media backlash. The thing was you’d seen no media backlash, people just finding the dog's enthusiasm funny.

If there was any sort of trouble, you’d have seen it, it was your job after all, so you were left sitting on your couch, pondering what was the point of the meeting she was trying to set up.

You’d aired the email for a few days, wondering what you should do. You wanted to say yes, to talk to Lewis again and ask him what had happened, but you didn’t want to get hurt again. And you knew you’d be hurt when you saw him doing perfectly fine without you.

The fact that Angela was waiting for you to respond didn’t cross your mind till you received a text from an unknown number, politely asking you to respond. The older woman had waited till she knew you’d read the text, about five minutes, before sending a more desperate text. That had your eyebrows raising unwillingly, confused about why she had sent three “please”’s in one paragraph.

Regardless you fell victim to knowing how hard it was to try and manage a driver's personal and professional commitments and said yes. Only because you felt bad for Angela was what you kept telling yourself.

Eventually the day had come and you were dreading it, lying on your couch until the last second possible. The thought of canceling had popped through your head multiple times but it was too late now. The only way you could back out is if an emergency happened or you died on the way to the private restaurant Angela had insisted on booking, saying that even though the meeting was supposed to be platonic, it shouldn’t be aired to the public.

A deep sigh left you as you pulled yourself up and walked to your bedroom, dressing yourself in business clothes. You wanted to put effort in, but knowing that you’d definitely be embarrassed if you showed up glammed out and he showed up in a shirt and jeans, you decided against it. It was a business dinner anyway, simply to smooth over a wrong that had been committed against you.

But it wasn’t a wrong, it was Roscoe pushing you over, which could hardly be considered a wrong and was more the dog testing the things he could get away with.

The real wrong was what Lewis had done to you. You hoped that you could get through the ordeal without talking about it, showing up and then posting a picture to Lewis’s instagram or something about how it was all good to appease the critics.

Except there were no critics, it was just Lewis wanting to have dinner with you. Or maybe it was just Angela trying to meddle. Maybe he was going to try to apologise for him ghosting you? You didn’t know if you would accept it.

You might’ve been able to accept it if he’d been honest from the start, telling you that he wouldn’t want you past the end of the break so you could quickly shut down the relationship before it started and move on with your life.

A thought that’d you always try to flush from your mind sprung to the front of it as you wondered. Maybe you were being too harsh. You’d never explicitly expressed what you were, maybe you had just been overthinking it the whole time you were together. Or rather, not together.

But that would’ve been unfair to you anyways, you reassured yourself. Him letting you get a taste of his future before exempting you from it was a cruel thing to do to anyone.

A ring from your phone let you know that you should’ve been out the door at this point. You quickly cursed before grabbing your essentials and running to your entryway, pulling your shoes on, before grabbing your keys from the side table.

After locking your door, you ran down the stairs to your apartment building and hailed a taxi. Luckily traffic wasn’t too bad, so you were able to arrive at the restaurant on time, quickly hurrying inside and getting led to your table.

You never had to worry about being late though, as Lewis wasn’t there when you got to the private booth. It was fine, he came from the other side of town so he’d probably only be a few minutes late.

It was about twenty minutes later you’d sighed and decided to ring Angela. Ironically, she didn’t pick up. You couldn’t help the bark of a laugh that left your throat, shaking your head at the sad reality of your situation.

Ghosted by two members of Mercedes. Maybe it was a good idea for Valtteri to move when he had, otherwise they may have just stopped picking up the phone. You gave him ten more minutes before trying Angela again. The same response.

At this point you were sick of being made the fool of. Perhaps it was your fault for believing your dispute could be resolved, your fault for believing you were worth showing up for. You stood up with a pressure at the back of your eyes and began the walk from the private booth all the way at the back of the swanky restaurant to the exit.

Before you got even five meters from your table, the door to the restaurant slammed open. Everyone turned to stare at the heavily breathing world champion as he took a second to recoup himself. He didn’t let himself look at anyone in the restaurant as he straightened his suit and turned to the host, who looked a little shell shocked. A quick exchange later and the host stepped back from the little podium he was stood behind.

You quickly scampered back to your seat, making it just in time and plastering an unimpressed look over your face. Looking back up, you could see Lewis scanning all the patrons of the premises before his eyes paused and locked onto you.

The simple action of making eye-contact, a luxury which you had refused yourself during your bump with Roscoe, sent a lick of emotion down your spine. You couldn’t exactly read his face, you didn’t know what he was choosing to display or doing unwittingly after being played by him for months, but you believed he was relieved.

When he arrived at the table he waved off the host with a small ‘thanks’ before sitting down in the seat opposite to you. It was silent for a few seconds, you both continuing eye contact. You were trying to find anything you could recognise in his eyes while he was just looking at you, at your face.

“I’m sorry for being so late.” He spoke finally, a slight tilt growing at the corners of his lips. You didn’t respond and the awkwardness won him over after a few more seconds, something that was quite uncharacteristic of him. He coughed.

“The lift wouldn’t work, I’d left my keys, then no one would pull over. I tried to call you but my phone died, so I just ran trying to get here.” He said and averted his eyes, a mannerism you’d recognised as a nervous tick the couple of times you’d seen it. You didn’t know how to reply so you let your emotions take hold.

“Your call wouldn’t have gone through.” You said blankly and he looked back to you, before chuckling awkwardly. You didn’t find it funny.

“You would’ve had to unblock me first.” You needlessly elaborated, getting some sadistic enjoyment out of the way the man squirmed. He continued his awkward laughing, you joining in to laugh sardonically.

You didn’t know where this feeling, of needing him to a sliver of the uncomfortableness he’d caused you, had come from. The feeling you got from his discomfort wasn’t pleasure though, it felt empty as though it was pointless in the long run. You supposed it was, he wouldn’t remember you in a few years and your small petty actions wouldn’t even matter when he married the princess of some country.

He cleared his throat, drawing your attention from your musings to his face.

“I wanted to apologise.” He stated bluntly and you raised an eyebrow. Yeah, no shit. He caught your expression and winced.

“I should’ve had Roscoe on a tighter leash and not have given him to Angela. It was my fault-” You tuned him out as he continued, shaking your head in disbelief. Yeah sure, it was why the meeting had been arranged, but you’d genuinely thought he might’ve talked about the elephant in the room at some point. Maybe you were judging harshly though. Maybe after a few minutes he’d start talking about the model he’d piped the other day or the Albanian billionaire who wanted to be his sugar mommy.

You’d forgotten that he could read you like a book and had stopped when he realised you were no longer paying attention. He reached over the table to wave a hand in front of your eyes, an action that was very rude, and you reacted accordingly. You turned to face him, affronted, and he smiled at your expression before his face turned serious and he breathed a deep breath.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk about what had happened.” He said finally, staring down at the table, and you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your buttons. You started to talk, the words leaving your mouth before you could properly think about them, hurt blurring your thoughts.

“Of course I would love to recount the time I came home and I found my place ransacked.” You said, the fakeness of your enthusiasm leaking into your words causing him to flinch.

“I’d love to talk about the messages I sent you before I realised I’d been blocked. Sure, let’s talk about how, not even two weeks after telling me you thought we’d have a future together, you’d completely left me, without a word of discussion.” You finally let out, almost strangling your throat closed so as to not let more of the hurt out. This was a work-related dinner after all and you didn’t want to draw more attention than Lewis already had.

His face had fallen, an incredibly unfamiliar look coating his face and you tried to stop yourself before you spoke, trying to tame the biting uncertainties in your head.

“Was it because I’d moved companies?” You questioned and he looked up. “Should I not have followed Valtteri?” Your question floated in the air and he shook his head, a sorrowful expression taking over his face.

“Then why?” You asked after a second and he paused, not responding. You, tired of his silence, thought about all the reasons you’d gone over in your head, and settled on the one that made the most sense to you. Looking back, it was probably the most unrealistic, but it made sense to the angry and sad mindset you had.

“Was it because I couldn’t afford everything?” His head snapped up, shock colouring his features. “I could’ve moved to a new apartment if it bothered you, having to stay over at my place. I knew you didn’t do a lot of things that break because I couldn’t pay, but you could’ve told me if you wanted to. I do have a savings account I could’ve dipped into.” You said quietly, looking down at the table, all the fight having been sapped from your body.

You were tired. You didn’t know what the time difference was between you and Canada, but you were sure that you could set an alarm and wake up to spill your guts to the stranger, it was better than telling anyone you knew.

Lewis called your name but you didn’t look up from the table, hoping to not see any form of confirmation in his eyes. He reached a hand over the table, this time to not be rude but to lift your chin up and look in your eyes. He contemplated for a second before speaking softly.

“I thought it was what you wanted.” He said and you reared back, completely shocked before he continued.

“You kept going to meetings with Alfa Romeo and I thought it was your subtle way of telling me to fuck off. You know, that you had more important things to worry about than a driver from your old company. We’d never talked about what we were and I just thought…” He paused for a second here, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at the wall before looking back into your eyes.

“I thought I could bite the bullet, leave before you could tell me to go. And it worked in the end, you’ve been doing exceptionally well. I haven’t seen a bad story about Valtteri in months.” He said and withdrew his hand as he leaned back against the chair behind him. You processed his words for a moment before he cleared his throat, drawing you back to look at him.

“I would never, by the way.” He disclosed quietly and you tilted your head. He continued. “I don’t mind if you have the money or not, for that break your apartment was the best place for me.”

The use of the present tense threw you off for a second, leaving you to rearrange yourself in your seat and clear your throat as you thought of a response. You couldn’t, opening your mouth but no words coming out. He’d stunned you into silence. You finally found your voice after steeling yourself for a second. “W-what about umm… what was her name?” You asked, a stutter permeating your words. He just sighed, letting his head fall slack to stare at the table.

“It was a mistake.” He said quietly, and guilt for the poor girl rushed through you. “I thought that after I’d let you go I should at least try to find something as a replacement.” He looked up at you.

“I couldn’t though, no one could match to you. But I couldn’t leave her without a reason.”

He leaned further back in his seat, his voice terse as he spoke. “She gave me plenty of reason after I caught her in bed with her ex.” You winced at the tone of his voice and gave him a second to collect his thoughts. Even if he was trying to break it off, it’s never a good feeling to be cheated on.

You spoke up after a second, trying to clear the silence between you and deciding he should know about your fling after you’d ended if this dinner was going to way you thought it was.

“I met a man in Canada.” You said hesitantly and you saw his shoulders drop.

“Oh.” He said quietly, before shaking himself out as if he was a cat and plastering a smile on his face. Lewis made eye-contact and asked you a question.

“What’s his name?” Fake-enthusiasm permeated his question, as though he was trying to hide his disappointment.

You didn’t want to address that, though you knew you had to. Could you take him back? You didn’t know for sure if he would leave you again, which scared you. The whole idea of taking him back scared you, though the thought of more time with him that wasn’t spent trying to avoid looking his way made you hopeful. You tried not to feel that way, knowing that you shouldn’t base your happiness on the man.

But he had apologised and explained his reasoning. As much as you wanted to curse him out for not talking with you, it did make sense. Feelings of inadequacy were present in every person, no matter how remarkable they were.

Look at you, already being hypocritical over your own words. You’d said you didn’t know if you’d take him back, but now you were already planning it. Was that pathetic? You didn’t like to think it was, but maybe you were wrong, ignoring your dignity in favour of the man.

God, if only the world was more simple and less complicated. If only you hadn’t gotten locked in an elevator, if only Roscoe hadn’t been as adorable as he was, if only you’d said no to this dinner. If only you’d just talked about your feelings from the start instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Too late now though, you supposed, snapping back to the present and leveling eye-contact with Lewis. You contemplated your words, knowing they’d probably either be the start or the end of your time with him.

“I don’t remember.” You said finally, staring at Lewis’ face as a smile that he tried to contain spread over it.

“You don’t remember his name?” He asked, almost trying to confirm his words and you shook your head. He couldn’t control his smile, trying to mask it behind a cough. You only started to grin in response, looking into his eyes as they slowly turned back into half-moons.

A cleared-throat startled you both out of your bubble and you turned to the waiter, who looked as if he had just watched a soap opera play out in front of him. He awkwardly held out menus to the both of you and you quickly accepted them, apologising for making him stand awkwardly for so long.

When he’d left you both had looked at each other and exchanged smiles. The dinner had continued and it was as lovely as Lewis himself. That is to say, very lovely.

After paying and making the walk to Lewis’ house, you both stumbled into Lewis’ abode, not able to keep your hands off of each other. However a large obstacle had stopped you from taking it further, namely the heavy weight of the british bulldog that decided to settle himself on top of you the second you’d walked through the door.

You could barely hear Lewis’s laughter over the sound of Roscoe licking the side of your face, you muffling your own laughter into the carpet.

When you’d next seen Valtteri, he’d only taken one glance at your neck before shooting you a smirk, the knowing glance he had on his face making you roll your eyes as you pushed him to his interviews.

i got stuck halfway through but i just wanted it overrrr. Hopefully it's not too bad, let me know in the comments.

433 notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 10 months

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x singer!reader (fc: Rihanna)

summary: “Well-known people usually don’t have the privilege to protect their private life. It’s impressive for how long you did it,”

a/n: this one has been in my drafts for months. i just found it and decided to post it before writing for scientist!reader. enjoy!

masterlist

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, harryshoee and 15 291 others

harryupdates Celebrating YN's half-time performance at tonight's Super Bowll here's a throwback to 2013 MTV awards.

view all 3 402 comments

hArrysbtch good ol' days when Harry was eating oranges during award shows

ynupdates i still think they look super cute together

harrysfan and then harry made 1D boys sing fourfive seconds on radio 1??? he had a big crush on her

ynsfan01 yn later that night during the interview? 'they had very tasty fruits during performances' girl...

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harrysno1fan

liked by harryupdates, harrysmoustache and 9 201 others

harrysno1fan Harry arriving in Glendale, Arizona a few hours ago. what the hell is he doing in the US???? wasn't he literally wasted at the BRITs like 5 hours ago??? isn't he supposed to be in Australia like tomorrow???

view all 2 291 comments

harryupdates interesting

harryfootball is he there for super bowl???

⤷ harrysbtch i don't think he knows much about American football, most like something to do with the half time show

⤷ harrysmoustache are you saying that he's going to be YN's surprise guest????? im gonna pass out

harryfan82 he's gonna boil in those clothes xd

ynupdates i hope he's there for the half time show

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harryandyn

liked by ynupdates, harryshoee and 3 201 others

harryandyn remember when this photo resurfaced a few years ago? and nobody said it was a photoshop and no one knew about it being real? I stand by my words then - they're closer than we think. mark my words people

view all 792 comments

ynupdates well, that would be a real power couple

harryupdates a collab would be a dream

hArrysbtch harry did admit having a crush on yn for years, maybe he acted on it?

ynsfan101 you all know that yn has a baby??

⤷ ynsmybestie of course, but she never said who the father is (she doesn't have to, her choice) so it gives you a place to speculate - respectfully!!!

⤷ ynshands babes, yn is super private, so is harry... it could work

⤷ ynsfan101 all im saying its strange not having seen them once together outside of award shows

⤷ ynsmybestie years in the industry teach you that

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ynupdates

liked by ynsmybestie, harryupdates and 37 201 others

ynupdates YN DURING THE HALFTIME SHOW! SHE IS PREGNANT WITH HER SECOND CHILD !!! the moment they showed I screamed so loud at the TV...

view all 12 201 comments

ynsmybestie OMFGAKWSK i am so happy for her

ynsmymama yas, im gonna have another sibling 💀

ynshands guys, we're not getting this album, like ever

ynsnextalbum hi guys, I'm not coming till 2040

harrysmoustache did you guys saw harry during the performance???????

⤷ hArrysbtch they're so together, no way

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, harrysmoustache and 21 301 others

harryupdates HARRY AT THE SUPER BOWL !!! Harry attended half time show (YN's performance) and then left with her team...

view all 4 201 comments

ynupdates he looks very comfy 💀

hArrysbtch they're SOOOOO together, no other way

harrysmoustache power couple

ynsmybestie i knew yn had good taste in man

hArrysbtch wait

hArrysbtch wooow

hArrysbtch DOES IT MEAN THAT HARRY IS A DAD ???!

⤷ harrysfan291 no way

⤷ ynsmybestie i mean... it's possible

⤷ harryshands HE IS A FATHER???

harryfan82 let's not spread rumours

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, ynupdates, harrysupdates, violadavis and 24 201 291 others

harrystyles yourinstagram 👶🏾👶🏾

view all 582 201 comments

yourinstagram we make beautiful babies

⤷ harrystyles it's all you, mama

ynupdates no words....

harryupdates congratulations!!!!

violadavis oh, mama. do you ever get some sleep?

⤷ yourinstagram barely, its harrystyles fault

⤷ harrystyles mint ice cream?

⤷ yourinstagram 🧍🏻‍♂️🧎🏿‍♀️

⤷ ynsmybestie girl????? oh, you got it BAD bad

ynsmybestie so she really in love? damn

harrysmoustache he's a daddy?????

ynshands well, now i know your babies are gonna be the most beautiful

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harrysupdates

liked by ynupdates, harrysmoustache and 6 201 others

harrysupdates HARRY AND YN AT THE HOTEL IN GLENDALE! i have a feeling after yesterday we're gonna see much more of them

view all 592 comments

harrysmoustache they're in love love, got it

harrysfan290 might go sleep on the highway tonight

hArrysbtch it's too much to process. Harry's taken, he's with THEE YN, he's got a child and another one on the way???

ynupdates so they're that kinda couple? love it

ynshands yeah, it's been long enough since I felt this lonely, fair enough

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, taylorswift, annetwist, ynupdates, harrysupdates and 42 201 304 others

yourinstagram did this photoshoot not knowing little Bee is gonna have a sibling. harrystyles thank you for... you know what, for once i'll keep it PG ❤

britishvogue thank you for letting us be on the cover

view all 729 392 comments

harrystyles thank you for Bee and little Sprout ❤

⤷ yourinstagram love you

taylorswift congratulations you two!

annetwist Can't wait to meet my second grandchild ❤️

harryupdates the joined interview???? babes

ynupdates i cried while reading the interview

hArrysbtch looking good, mama 🧎‍♀️

⤷ yourinstagram making me blush, im taken!

⤷ hArrysbtch what the hell???

⤷ yourinstagram i like your username, relatable

⤷ hArrysbtch JAIL

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https://www. vogue.co.uk/news/article/yn-and-harry-and-their family

British Vogue

On a surprisingly sunny day in London, our writer Tommy Jenkins was invited to the beautiful rural home on the outskirts of the busy capital city. The garden was blooming with spring flowers, covering the better part of the front house garden. On the porch was the whole YSN-Styles family - YN, Harry and their little first child - Bee (nickname, name not yet revealed to the public).

The first time I talked to YN was after the 2014th MTV Music Awards, already struck by her presence, the way she presented herself and treated everyone around her - always kind, helpful and ready to cooperate. This is my first interview with YN, but also Harry Styles, who is YN’s husband.

“We’ve been married, what, about seven months?” YN wondered, looking at Harry, who was cuddling their nine-month-old son.

“Seven months and fourteen days exactly, time flies.”

“He’s better with dates than me,” YN countered with a smile.

The wedding was small, held in this very house, I’ve been for the last few hours. Closest family and friends, sleeping Bee in the first row attended the ceremony, which then transferred to a dinner with Stevie Nicks performing. After my question of why they didn't announce it to the public, Harry took over the wheel, “there was no need to. It was something very private, personal to us. It uhm it still feels wrong to talk about with you, no offence.” No offence was taken. “Well-known people usually don’t have the privilege to protect their private life. It’s impressive for how long you did it,” I responded. “It’s sad. But we made it work.”

Enjoy the rest of the interview and learn about YN and Harry’s relationship, their future plans, YN’s new album and Harry’s next film role.

TJ: Coming back to the privacy, what tipped the weight on the scales to accept our interview?

YN: Good question. I think - well - I think after I decided to do the HalfTime Show it was bound to happen. There was no way I could hide my huge belly. Laughs. It just came up one evening and we were like “fuck it, let’s do it”.

TJ: HalfTime Show, how was it?

YN: Exhausting. It’s not easy dancing with this big of a belly, especially when you know that your child is right there. There - we had some second thoughts when I started to near the seven month mark. Just like with Bee my belly got quite big - which I love to see, hate to manoeuvre - I mean my back and legs are hurting me non stop. But going back to the topic - umm - yeah. The decision was hard, but we made it together.

TJ: Harry, you came to the show right after winning everything you could on the BRITs. Congratulations, by the way!

Harry: Thank you. Blushing. Ehmm, yeah, in the beginning we decided to be together at the show. I actually didn’t want to be at the BRITs but YN bought me a plane ticket. Laughs. Yeah, I just flew to Glendale the day of the show to support my wife.

TJ: How was the dancing on the platforms, YN?

YN: Terrifying. But I was harnessed and secure.

TJ: If you let me, I want to ask you about your first meeting. Was it actually the 2013 MTV awards?

YN: It was. Ten - oh my lord - ten years ago. It’s crazy!

TJ: How was it?

YN: I don’t remember the award show, just eating some oranges form a cute stranger behind me and then giving him my number. Which he lost.

TJ: No, you didn’t!

Harry: I did, I did lose the YN YSN phone number. My mates - my band mates - teased me for months about it. It was scary, actually.

TJ: And when did you meet next?

YN: When was it? December 2015?

Harry: Yeah. I may or may not have made my bandmates perform FourFive Seconds during our Live Lounge set, and it just sprinted from there.

YN: I DMed him after being shown that video by my younger sister. And that DM is actually framed and hang in Harry’s home studio.

TJ: What was it?

Harry: “I guess it took collaborating with Paul McCartney to have you give me a hint.”

TJ: And you started from there?

YN: And never looked back.

TJ: It wasn’t the last time you performed YN’s song, was it? Wild Thoughts?

YN: Laughing. I love this!

Harry: That was our first - let’s say - crumb to give people about us.

TJ: Please elaborate.

YN: I wrote my verses in Wild Thoughts with Harry in mind, let’s be real. He was my inspiration and has been since the moment we’ve started seeing each other. But it was Harry’s idea to cover it. I loved it and he did it beautifully, like always.

TJ: I assume your albums are about YN?

Harry: Smiles.

TJ: Okay, I understand. Let’s move on. YN, when we are in the topic of music -

YN: Oh no. My fans sent you, didn’t they?!

TJ: I’m one of them! When can we expect something? A crumb even.

YN: Two months. I - I have a full album written. Don’t know if my fans will like it, it’s - it’s different from anything I’ve done already. It’s something more rock, I’d say. With R&B of course. I couldn’t abandon my favourite genre. There are a few collaborations, Lift Me Up is there, too, a few notes sprouted all over the tracks maybe meaning something. Smirking. I really want them all to like it, but I wouldn't blame them if they didn’t. That’s just the way of how things could go.

TJ: I love it already.

Harry: It’s very beautiful. Personal and deep.

TJ: Harry, you’ve just won twoGrammy awards. Congratulations. But I want to ask you about acting. Do you have something, a script that you want to take part in bringing up to live?

Harry: Thank you. Uhm. Right now I’m touring and whenever the baby is born, we’re stopping. Time for family is the most important thing in my life.

TJ: Thank you for talking with me and welcoming us to your home.

The day you’re reading this interview - when it is published - YN already dropped her album. It probably is no. 1 on Billboard and breaking records. And if not? Be ready to listen to new music from YN - it’s closer than ever.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fake ig #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #singer!reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction

573 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 5 months

Text

Learn to Love Again (m) | myg | teaser

💜 It has been posted! Read it here. 💜 Summary: People always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, mainly called pet names so no ‘Y/N’).

AU + genres: Hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), strangers to lovers, slice of life, heavy angst, a lot of sadness (I’m sorry!), dark vibes, smut and fluff and some humor.

Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.

Word count (for the teaser): 480 words. I’m still writing the fic and it’s currently at 12k and I’m almost done!

Warnings (general) + triggers: Heavy angst, extreme heavy sadness and grief, death of minor characters, mention of previous character death (parents), mentions of su*cide, mention of m*rder, su*cidal thoughts.

Warnings (explicit): Explicit sex (I haven’t written the smut yet, so I don’t know what it entails yet 🤣).

Authors note: I know it sounds hella sad (and it is), but it is also very sweet and heartwarming too 💜 I wanted to venture into the darker stuff again, and embrace all the feelings and sadness that I felt a few weeks ago (I’m fine, well I’m getting through it at least).

If you are triggered by any of the warnings, I suggest that you skip this. It’s not that explicit though (except the smut lol) but the heavy subjects are still there and they feature in it a lot.

Also, the quote “people always leave” features a lot in this and I only now realize why I find it so familiar – it’s a famous quote from Peyton Sawyer from One Tree Hill.

*fun fact: I actually took the photo of the night sky myself (back in 2013 lol) and used in the breakline for this!

Taglist: If you wish to be notified and added to the taglist, just drop a comment here on this teaser, an ask or a message and I’ll add you. I kindly ask that you have your age visible on your blog, as this contains mature and dark themes, you must be over 18+ 🙂

“Yuna…,” you cry, the anguish in your voice echoing the profound pain that seems to squeeze the very life out of your heart. “Why does everyone leave?” The question hangs in the air, more rhetorical than expectant, as if you're not seeking an answer from Yuna but grappling with the cruel patterns of departure that life has woven into the fabric of your existence. Each departure, like a thread pulled from the tapestry of your world, leaves an unraveled piece that never quite knits itself back together.

“I–, I don’t know,” she stammers through her tears, the weight of the unknown echoing in her voice, mirroring the uncertainty that now shrouds both of your lives.

“Promise we’ll be there for each other,” you declare, the weight of the words hanging in the air. It's a poignant plea, an acknowledgment of life's unpredictable twists. You understand that you can't ask for an eternity, but in this moment, you're determined to hold onto each other as tightly as time allows.

“Count on it,” she vows, her response flowing effortlessly, a testament to the unspoken bond between you two.

Despite the tightening in your throat, a glimmer of happiness sparks within you at the assurance she just gave.

Why must life be so fucking cruel, robbing you of everyone you hold dear?

An overwhelming urge to reconnect with your sister washes over you, a deep yearning fueled by the ache of prolonged silence between you.

“I want to call my sister,” you manage to say through your sobs, a desperate plea lacing your words. “Will you be alright, Yuna?” you ask, your concern breaking through the waves of grief that surround you both.

“Yeah. I mean, I'm fucking sad, but go ahead and call her. Can I come to your place tomorrow?” Yuna's voice carries a subtle plea, a shared understanding that neither of you wants to be alone in the midst of sorrow.

“Yeah, I'd love that,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of grief and the faint glimmer of gratitude for the companionship that awaits tomorrow. As you attempt to dry your tears with a throw blanket on the couch, the room feels emptier than ever, and the ache in your heart persists.

“See you tomorrow,” she says before the call ends. The hollowness in the room deepens, and you draw in a shaky breath, your gaze fixed on your phone. The background image captures a moment frozen in time, featuring you, Nari, and Yuna. God, the ache of missing her intensifies, and you can't shake the heaviness in your chest.

You tighten your grip on the phone, each tear that escapes your eyes a silent testament to the pain in your heart. Determination wells up as you locate your sister's number, fingers tracing the familiar digits, ready to bridge the gap that time and distance have carved between you.

112 notes · View notes

musings-of-a-rose · 1 year

Text

I Never Stopped Loving You

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC “Catie”

Word Count: 7700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: @theewokingdead is such an enabler and I love her for it! This is 100% her idea (I’ll post it at the end). I’m just doing the words!

And yes, this is my first OFC character!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

I Never Stopped Loving You Part 2>>

September 26th, 2013

2 pink lines.

2 little pink lines that will change the entire course of my life from here on out. Not just my life, but his life too.

Joel.

It’s not like we just started dating. It’s been a couple of years, but we hadn’t really brought up the idea of adding another child alongside his Sarah. And yet, here I am, staring down in disbelief at these 2 little pink lines, memories of the night that caused this from a couple weeks ago flashing before my eyes briefly before my brain starts to spiral.

Would he be happy? Mad? Leave me? Feel obligated to marry me? How will Sarah feel?

Before I can spiral more, my phone springs to life, it’s ring loud in my tiny bathroom as it vibrates across the counter. I knew from the ring it was him, but what I didn’t expect was Joel to sound so tired and frustrated.

“Hey baby.”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Is that contractor being a dick again?”

He chuckles, low and deep. “How’d you guess?”

“He’s been giving you shit for weeks. I don’t know how you deal with it.”

“Because I need the money. But I’m starting to think it may not be worth it to keep my mouth shut.”

He launches into a story about his day from hell, how the contractor is making everything take 10 times as long as it should. When he finishes, he takes a deep sigh before speaking again.

“You able to check on Sarah?”

“Yeah. She’s doing fine. Ordered a pizza. Sorry I couldn’t hang with her.”

“It’s alright. You feelin’ any better, sweetheart?”

I could tell him now, tell him that my secret suspicion of my nausea over the last several days has been confirmed, but I don’t want to tell him like this. Not over the phone, not when he’s exhausted and frustrated. I’ll tell him when I see him next.

“A little.”

A beep sounds and Joel pauses. “That’s Tommy. I’ll call him back later.”

“No, no. It’s ok, answer it. Just go home and get some sleep.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely, sweetheart. Feel better.”

I feel guilty for not telling him right away, but the timing just isn’t right. Besides, this gives me some time to wrap my own head around it and figure out exactly how to tell him.

—----

Waiting was not a great idea.

I had fallen asleep at some point, but I was woken up by…is that screaming? Something is happening outside and it doesn’t sound good.

Creeping up to the window, I pull the curtains back just enough to peek outside. People are moving about the street, but something isn’t right. They’re all running from Mr. Stevens, my neighbor from several houses down. He’s running after them, but it’s not normal. No…not human. He leaps forward, jumping onto the nearest person and…shit!

I run back to my nightstand and grab my phone. The first few times I try to get a call out, it’s a busy signal. Whether the lines are cut or busy is beyond me, but I have to keep trying. My fingers tremble as I use speed dial to try to get Joel. The phone slips from my hand and clatters to the floor.

“Shit!”

I bend down and pick it up, hitting the green call button and miraculously, the call goes through. My breathing speeds up, I feel like my heart is about to pound out of my chest. I’ve never needed a call to go through more than now-

“Catie?”

“Joel?”

“Thank God. Listen, somethin’ is happening. Something with the people-”

“I know. I saw the neighbor-”

“Stay away from them-.....not right-....Sarah and I-.....”

“Joel?” The line keeps breaking up, static cutting out more than half of whatever he was trying to tell me.

“....just stay put….no lights….there soon…”

“I- ok. I’ll stay here.”

“Love you, sweethea-”

The phone cuts off and the connection dies with it. I pull the phone away from my ear and look down at the screen. My phone still has battery but over the service bars is an X. Guess they either cut the service or something happened at a tower. Either way, it’s not good.

I stay there a moment longer until more screams and glass breaking from across the street somewhere bring me harshly back to reality. I click my lamp off and head into my closet, finding the new hiking backpack I’d bought a couple weeks ago with Joel, who planned to take Sarah and I hiking soon. Be smart, Catie. It’s just like camping. What do I need realistically?

I’m no stranger to traveling, so I roll all my clothes, putting on a 3rd pair of jeans and a shirt, making sure to pack and wear thicker socks that will last longer. I also toss in a bar of soap, my waterproof matches and firestarter, some salves I had just finished making last week, and some other random items. The pack isn’t too heavy, which I’m grateful for. I grab one of Joel’s flannels and throw it on over my clothes before hoisting the backpack over one shoulder.

Quietly, I creep downstairs, ears straining to hear anything out of place. I hear nothing - well, nothing aside from the ominous noises from outside. I’m so glad that I have curtains all around my house, never wanting people to see in, especially at night. I fill my canteen with water and grab a bunch of high protein, portable snacks, tossing them in my bag and strapping the water to the side. I make up another canteen to add to the other side to balance the weight. Plus, having extra water wasn’t a bad thing. Right?

I kept my phone on me in case Joel managed to get through again. I pull it out to see if anything had changed, but nothing. It’s been at least 20 minutes since I spoke to him, but even if he had left his home right at that moment, it would still be another 5 or so minutes before he’d get here. And I’m sure he’s running into obstacles outside.

When it hits the hour mark, I become officially worried.

I know he told me to stay put, but the screams outside are lessening, which can only mean one thing. I’m not waiting around for it to be my turn.

Grabbing a pen, I scribble a quick note telling Joel to meet me at the cabin, my parent’s cabin that they had given me to use with Joel and Sarah. It’s out in the middle of nowhere but it’s self sustainable and the perfect place to hideout from…whatever is happening.

I leave the note in a conspicuous place, hoping that he’ll be able to see it. I check the knives I stored in my boot and one in a leg strap on my thigh. Initially a gag gift from my brother when I started hiking more, I learned how to use them a little, just in case. Otherwise, I have my bow-my bow!

Quickly, I head into my office closet and grab my bow and quiver of arrows, making sure I have the proper attachments for attaching them to my backpack. I pick up my keys, fingers trembling and I nearly drop them.

Then my sliding door crashes open, glass shattering everywhere, inhuman noises coming from whatever fell through it.

I don’t even bother to look, throwing open the front door and slamming it behind me, eyes scanning the yard for any threats. Thank God I have a keyless entry, the car unlocking for me and I throw my bag and bow in as I slide in the seat of my suv, slamming the door shut behind me. I fumble with the keys, trying to jam them in the ignition when I hear my front door slam against the ground. I manage to jam the key in and the engine turns over. I backup quickly out of my driveway and peel off down the street as Mr. Stevens comes out of my house, moving towards my car but quickly giving up as I drive away.

I make it about 10 blocks when I see her. My neighborhood friend Lucia, running for her life from…something who used to be a someone. No hesitation, I turn my suv, slamming into the something and sending it flying. Lucia turns and sees me, eyes wide with fear as she runs towards me as I beckon her to get in. She throws open the passenger door and screams at me to go before she even closes it behind her. I do, speeding off down the road and somehow managing to get out of the nieghborhood without road blocks or hitting anything else.

For now, I’m ignoring what I see and focusing on getting us out.

Lucia says nothing, eyes scanning the road and looking behind us to make sure everything is clear. By the grace of a higher power, we manage to make it to the back highway that will eventually bring us to my parent’s cabin. Or my cabin now, I guess.

“Luce, are you ok?”

Lucia is breathing heavy but she nods, turning her head towards me as she starts to relax slightly. “Thank you for stopping. I..I wouldn’t have made it otherwise.”

“I’m just glad I could help.”

A few moments of silence pass between us before I speak again.

“Are you hurt or..or bit? I don’t..I don’t know what-”

“No. I don’t know how but no.”

“What are they?”

Lucia takes a shaking breath and I can hear her trying to hold back tears. “I..I don’t know. They aren’t…they were people but now?”

“Yeah that’s pretty much all I saw too…oh is there anywhere I need to go or drive by for you?”

She looks away from me quickly. “I uh…no.”

“Where’s your brother?”

She was quiet for a moment. “He left on his business trip a day ago.”

Right. Japan or something.

I reach over and squeeze her hand, feeling us both shaking. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

More silence.

“What about Joel? And Sarah?”

“I uh…I was waiting for them but… I left a note telling them where to meet me.”

“Oh. I’m sure they’re fine.”

We drive for a little bit longer, Lucia messing with the radio to try and find anything that was playing. It was all just static. I take the exit I need and clear my throat.

“I’m pregnant.”

Lucia’s head snaps towards me. “You’re what?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Great timing, huh?”

“Does Joel know?”

A sob jumps out of my throat, one I didn’t know I had. “No. I..he had a hard day at work and I figured I’d tell him tomorrow…”

“Oh, Cat. It’s ok. He…he’ll find you for sure. I know it. Buuut…until then, you have me! Wait, did you pick me up just because I’m a midwife?” I can hear the smile in her words, but she’s still not 100% certain.

“I picked you up because you needed help. And you didn’t look injured.” She laughs at my admission.

“I love your honesty, Cat.”

We chat about the pregnancy the entire way, only quieting when we reach the long, hidden drive to my cabin. We do a quick perimeter check, inside and out. Nothing and no one. The closest neighbors we have are literally miles away. We have more chances of seeing a bear than another person.

Lucia helps me unload the few things I have in the car and heads inside. We take a quick stock of all pantry items and I’m thankful that Sarah and I did so much canning the last time we were here. She had gotten slightly obsessed with the idea and was looking forward to eating it when they were ready. Water wouldn’t be an issue either as we have our own private well, no need for electricity. Which is good because that doesn’t work without the generator and we are not turning that on. It’s too noisy and would attract trouble.

Lucia and I have a low key dinner of beef sticks and some dried vegetables, chatting with each other to try and lighten the dark cloud that has crept over the world. She heads off to one of the bedrooms and I head off to mine, the one I share with Joel. Once I’m finally able to collapse in the bed, I allow myself a moment to cry, worrying about Joel and Sarah and the baby that’s currently growing inside of me. I still have hope they’ll make their way here. I have to or I’ll crumble into bits and float away on the wind.

—----

20 years later…

Lucia and I stayed in the cabin for nearly 10 years. She helped me safely bring my daughter Penelope, or “Poppy”, earthside. We raised her in the cabin, teaching her everything she needed to know about survival and life, despite her young age. This is how life is now. She’s still allowed to have kid time of course, which is why there are murals painted on nearly every corner of the cabin.

About 10 years in, Lucia, who had never given up on finding someone or a transmission on either the radio or the ham radio, finally found one talking about a settlement in Jackson, Wyoming. It would take us nearly a month to get there, let alone the danger we’d be in. The suv would never make it, having given out years ago, but luckily we had managed to make a small farm for us and that included a few horses and a couple that could pull a wagon or 2. After gathering up all the information we could on Jackson, we determined it must be a real place and put it to a vote with all of us. After the winter snows melted, we left for Jackson, packing up our entire lives, or what we could anyway, and plotting out the safest route possible. It would take us about a month, especially with the detours we were taking, but they were necessary to avoid the areas that would most likely have bandits. Or worse.

The last thing I did before I closed the door was to write a letter to Joel and Sarah, telling them where we were going. Even 10 years later, I had not given up on them.

—----

A month later, we arrived in Jackson, a few more scrapes and bruises to our name, but luckily, we hadn’t run into too much trouble.

Lucia got work right away, considering her background as an official midwife. I was hired to help with the gardening because of my immensely green thumb and knowledge of herbs, and Poppy was allowed to help with the livestock we brought, after school was done for the day. Poppy was beside herself with the idea of going to actual school, even though she knew most of what they were teaching anyway.

We all settled nicely, Lucia falling in love with a nice man on the other side of town, eventually moving in with him and starting a family of their own. Poppy made a ton of friends, finally allowed the freedom to be a kid for more than a couple of hours.

As for me?

I never really dated anyone, my heart given to Joel a long time ago. I know the likelihood of seeing him again is extremely slim, but I still have a tiny sliver of hope that he’s around. And maybe he’s heard about Jackson and will head this way. Which didn’t impact my decision to come here. Nope. Not at all.

But the biggest surprise that Jackson held for us was Tommy, Joel’s brother. He was married to Maria, the woman who started this community with her father, and lived on the farm where they kept the horses. Poppy and he got along right away, her begging for more stories about her dad and he would pretend to be annoyed but would give in every single time. She continued this ritual as she grew, eventually bringing her boyfriends with her, searching for Tommy’s approval, just like a father.

One beautiful fall day, I’m walking through the market, trading for new produce and supplies when I hear some people gossiping over lemonade at the small eatery in town. I tend to ignore gossip, never having been one for it, until the phrase “Tommy Miller’s brother” reaches my ear. I freeze, listening intently on their words, but I’m only able to make out that he was here in town.

Joel was here. In Jackson. Joel.

I turn, marching towards the small group of people that were doing the gossiping when I heart the alert - bandits were attempting to attack the dam. Growling out in frustration, I turn to run towards that side of town, slinging the rifle from around my back once I assumed my nearly hidden position on the wall. We make quick work of the bandits, especially since we are heavily fortified and secured. That doesn’t stop them from trying, though.

Once the attack is over, I search the throngs of people for Tommy, just spotting him getting on his horse and heading home. Cursing, I turn, heading towards Tommy’s house on foot, my mind now completely on Joel since the bandit attack was over. Was he still in town? Does he know I’m here? Does he know he has a daughter?

I arrive at the farm and immediately head for the barn, knowing Tommy would still be tending to his horse. Sure enough, he had just finished putting her away, locking the gate behind him.

“Tommy!”

He sighs and doesn’t look at me right away. Which tells me he knows exactly why I’m here.

“Hey, Catie.”

“Is he here?” I’m standing just a couple feet from him, arms crossed and my foot tapping slightly with nerves.

“Who?”

“Fuck you, Tommy. You know who.”

“I-”

“Tell me the truth.”

He meets my gaze for a moment before nodding. “He was.”

He was here. Joel was here, in Jackson, alive and I didn’t- wait. Did he say was?

I swallow hard, willing my tears to just wait until I’m by myself. “Is he ok?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean as much ok as we all are.”

I let out a breath of relief. He was ok. Probably a little worse for wear but he was ok.

“Did…did you tell him I’m here?”

Tommy studies me for several moments, his dark eyes bouncing between mine, as if he’s debating with himself. “I…did.”

He knows I’m here. Joel knows I’m here, alive and well and he just-

Oh.

Of course. It’s been nearly 20 years and it would be ridiculous to think the man still loved me after all this time. He didn’t even know I was still alive. He’d never even met his daughter. If he no longer cared about me, fine. But why wouldn’t he want to meet his daughter? Unless…

“Did you tell him about Poppy?”

Tommy’s entire stance is apologetic and I know his reply before his lips even part. “No.”

“What the fuck, Tommy?”

He puts his hands up in a calming manner. “It shouldn’t come from me.”

“Fuck you, Tommy! He doesn’t even know he has another daughter. He deserves to know-”

“You’re right, he does. But not from me-”

“I can’t fucking believe this. It’s been 20 years, Tommy. 20 years and he didn’t even stop to say hi? Maybe if you’d have told him about Poppy, he’d at least stayed long enough to see her.”

I poke him in the chest as hard as I can. “It’s your fault he left!”

Tommy grabs my wrist and pulls me closer, his voice lowering to just above a whisper. “He had other things to take care of.”

“What could be more important than family?”

“All of humanity.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He had a girl with him. Maybe…14? 15?”

My heart sinks. Did he have another daughter after the clickers came? As if he could read my mind, Tommy shakes his head.

“Not his. Her name is Ellie and she’s….special.”

“That’s disgusting, Tommy.”

He gives me a look. “She was bit.”

“Bit? And you let her into Jackson?”

“And she hadn’t turned.”

I could feel my eyes grow wide. Bit? Without turning? That’s impossible.

“How do you -”

“Saw the bite myself. I’ve seen enough of ‘em to know what they look like. It’s legit.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. This is huge. Definitely bigger than me.

“Yeah… anyway, he was takin’ Ellie to the Fireflies because they can supposedly make a cure out of her blood. Or that’s the hope anyway.”

“A cure?”

“Yup. This whole mess could be put behind us.”

This…this is life changing. World changing. My 20 year long devotion to a man I was deeply in love with paled in comparison to a cure for the clickers. Tommy told me Joel still had a long way to go, but if anyone could make it, he could.

“ ‘m sorry, Cat. I wish he could’ve stayed to say hi.”

“Did…did he say anything about me?” I hate how needy I sound.

“Honestly, we didn’t really talk about you other than me mentioning you were here. The focus was Ellie.”

I nod. The focus was on the right thing.

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I doubt it. It’s a long trek and pretty dangerous. He’d be smart to just stay put, especially to take care of Ellie.”

I left the barn and headed straight home. Poppy was out with her boyfriend so I had the whole place to myself. Which gave me plenty of alone time to cry and, for the first time in 20 years, try to move on from the dream I had about starting a little family with a man I never stopped loving.

—----

Spring in Jackson is always beautiful. The colors come alive, blooming from every surface they can for miles in greeting the season change. It’s also the perfect time to start planting certain crops so they’ll be ready when it comes harvest season.

I’ve finished planting in the community garden, dirt crusted under my fingernails despite my scrubbing at the garden sink. I’ll be able to use a brush at home, but for now, I smile at the grime on my clothes. It means Jackson will have food and enough to last through winter.

Taking off my apron, I toss it into the laundry basket to be cleaned and head towards the home I share with Poppy. She doesn’t spend as much time there these days, but I can hardly blame her. She is 20 and in a pretty serious relationship. I would not be surprised if the boy popped the question any day now.

I turn onto Main Street and Mrs. NoseyPants stops me. I know it’s not her real name but it fits her better.

“Catie! How are the crops going? Jackson going to survive?”

“Mmhhmm. We should be great.” I try to step around her, but she blocks my path.

“How’s that daughter of yours? Still getting on with the Miller boy?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I hope he makes an honest woman of her before something happens.”

“Something happens?”

She looks around, as if she expects anyone to actually give a fuck about what we’re saying. “Yes. Like an out of wedlock child.”

I plaster on a fake smile. “Oh yeah. That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t like your tone, Catie.”

I open my mouth to offer some sarcastic retort about not really giving a rat’s ass what she thought of my tone, but my gaze moves over her shoulder and the crowd parts just enough for me to see him.

Joel.

Unmistakably him, despite what the last 20 years has put on his shoulders. His back is to me, but his head is turned to the side, looking at all of the houses and buildings that line Main Street. Fuck he’s still handsome.

“Are you listening to me, Catie?”

I blink but don’t take my eyes off Joel, afraid he’d disappear if I did. “Full offense Mrs. Bennett, but I don’t have time to listen to your outdated and hateful words. Have a nice day.”

I know her jaw has dropped as I scoot around her, and I know I’ll probably pay for that later, but I couldn’t care less. My eyes are fixed on him as he walks slowly, eyes still moving from house to to house, taking it all in. I’m only several feet away before someone literally walks into him, dropping the giant stack of boxes they had been carrying.

“I am so sorry sir!”

The young man stoops to try and gather up the boxes and Joel turns to face him, bending to help him gather them up and reassemble them in his arms. “Don’t worry about it.”

The boy nods and takes off. Joel’s eyes follow him, making sure he doesn’t drop them again when his gaze meets mine. Those dark eyes move right into recognition and shock, blowing wide as it finally sets in who he’s looking at.

I hesitate only a moment before I move towards him, nearly running and shoving a few people out of my way. And suddenly, I’m standing in front of him, all 5’11 and broad shouldered, just as he had been 20 years ago. More lines adorn his face, and several scars, his hair is speckled and streaked with greys, but somehow it makes him all the more attractive. My breath catches in my throat and I find myself speechless in front of the man I would’ve given anything to speak to for 20 years.

“Catie?” He chokes out my name, eyes scanning mine as if he was waiting for me to say he was mistaken. That I wasn’t who he thought I was.

A quick sob escapes me as I nod frantically. “It’s me.”

His hand, large and warm just as it always has been, comes up to cup my face, his thumb tracing my cheek, as if touching me was proving to him that I was real. And then he pulls me into his chest, hugging on to me tight, like I would disappear from his grip if he didn’t. I hug him back, crying into his broad chest, unable to believe that I was finally, finally, holding onto him.

He pushes me back slightly, only to look at my face. “You’re…you’re alive.”

I chuckle through my tears. “And so are you. I thought Tommy told you I was here?”

He nods, his dark eyes still on my face. “I thought he was makin’ shit up to try and keep me here.”

“Well that does sound like Tommy.”

Joel chuckles deeply and it sends a jolt through my body. God how I missed that sound.

“He told me you lived down this way.”

I cock my head to the side. “Were..were you looking for me?”

Pink blooms across his cheeks as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “I had to see if he was full of shit.”

“Fair point.”

We stand there, in the middle of the street just staring at each other for several minutes before I blink back to reality.

“Are you hungry? I was heading home to make something to eat and shower. I…if you want to join me?”

His eyes darken briefly and I realize too late what I said.

“I’d love to. But…”

He’s struggling with words.

“..but… what?”

He clears his throat, looking away from me for the first time. “Wouldn’t your uh…husband or boy friend or whatever be upset?”

Smiling up at him, I shake my head. “I don’t have either of those.”

His shoulder seem to slacken in relief. “Oh. ‘m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

The corners of his mouth tick upwards in a small grin and I feel like my insides are melting through my skin. How can this man still get me going after 20 years?

“Lead the way.”

I gesture down the street in the direction we’d have to go to get to my place. We don’t say much, Joel still taking in Jackson but always having one eye on me. I know we’re about to have a difficult conversation. How will he feel about Poppy? About how our life turned out? Or his? Tommy had told me about Sarah when I first came to Jackson. The hardness behind his eyes shows that he’s still dealing with the grief and I imagine he always will. It’s no easy thing to lose a child.

We arrive at my house and I unlock the door, heading inside and flipping on a light.

“You have power?” He asks.

“Mmhmm. Tommy was able to hook up a generator of sorts to the power grid. It’s heavily guarded and taken care of so no one has messed with it. He’s been talking about trying to use water or wind energy, but we need someone who knows that.”

I kick off my boots and Joel copies me, setting his down next to mine.

“Poppy? You home?” I call out, not wanting her to walk in the middle of whatever was about to take place. When I receive no reply after a few calls of her name, I shrug my shoulders in a ‘guess she’s not home’ way.

“Who’s Poppy?”

“You thirsty?” I head towards the kitchen and Joel follows, watching as I take out a pitcher of lemonade. “I also have beer. It’s…not the greatest but it’s something.”

“You make the best lemonade. I’ve been dreaming of it for years.”

I smile, turning to grab 2 glasses and putting some ice in each of them before adding the lemonade. I hand Joel his glass and his fingers briefly brush against mine. They’re rougher than before but not by much, and the jolt this light touch sends through is just as strong as it was 20 years ago.

I head back to the living area and sit on the couch, taking a sip while I motion for him to sit as well. He does, taking his own sip and I catch a nearly imperceivable moan at the back of his throat when he tastes the lemonade. I quickly shove my legs together, hoping he doesn’t notice. I try to cover by setting my glass on the coffee table and he copies me, wiping his hand on his jeans as he settles back, his body slightly shifted towards mine.

“Is Poppy your uh…girlfriend?”

I laugh this time, not at the idea of me having a girlfriend but at the look on his face while saying it. “No. No she’s-” time to tell him what you should have all those years ago “- my daughter.”

Joel nods, his eyes looking down at his hands and his shoulder slump slightly as if sad. “You- you said you didn’t have anyone.”

“I don’t.”

A knowing look passes over his eyes. “Oh. ‘m sorry for your loss.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “My loss? No, Joel. Poppy is 20.”

“20…what?”

“20 years old.”

It’s his turn to look confused, as if math was passing over his vision. “She’s…20?”

“Yes.”

“So…that…that would mean when…you…” He shifts nervously in his spot on the couch, another swipe of his palms across his jean clad legs.

“Is…is she…”

“Do you remember that night? You had called me, telling me about that pain in the ass contractor you had to work with?”

Joel nods, his eyes glazed over in memory. “Yeah. I called to check on you because you couldn’t stop throwing…up…” His eyes snap to mine, and to my surprise, they were full of hope.

“I told myself it wasn’t the right time to tell you. But how the fuck would I have known that the world would end?” I chuckle nervously, fumbling as I reach got my glass to try and cover my nerves.

He lets out a puff of air. “So I have a daughter?”

My face feels warm under his intense gaze. “Yes.”

He lets out a half sob half laugh of joy, tears welling in his eyes before he tries to wipe them away with the back of his hand. “All these years I had a kid and I didn’t know. I didn’t know, Catie. I-” Another half sob half laugh escapes him and he takes a moment to compose himself, his body not used to such displays of emotion. Not anymore.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that night?”

Why didn’t I? “You sounded so stressed and worried and I didn’t want to add onto that. I was going to tell you the next time I saw you but…” but indeed.

“How long had you known?”

“That day. I had suspected for a couple of days but I had to wait until I was sure I had missed my period to test and I didn’t want to tell you and be wrong.”

“You should’ve told me, sweetheart. We could’ve done the test together.”

I chuckle darkly. “Yeah I probably should’ve done that.”

“Tommy never told me.”

“What?”

“When I was here before. He told me you were here but not that I…that I have…why the fuck wouldn’t he tell me?” Joel pushes himself up from the couch in anger, pacing back and forth across the hardwood floor. “He should’ve told me!”

“Joel, he did what he thought was right.”

He looks at me, anger flashing in his eyes. “He had no right to keep that from me. If I had known, I would’ve-”

“Not brought Ellie to the Fireflies for a chance to save humanity?”

He stops pacing, turning towards me with shock on his face. “He told you about Ellie?”

I nod, sighing. “He did.”

“And he didn’t tell me I had-have a fucking daughter? And that she was here?”

“In all fairness to Tommy, he only told me after I got pissed he didn’t mention her to you.”

Joel scoffs. “What an asshole.”

“I…I thought maybe if you knew, you would’ve…maybe you would’ve at least stayed to meet her.”

Anger leaves his body and he sits next to me on the couch, hesitantly placing his hand on my thigh. “I definitely would’ve. When he told me you were here…I was intent on seeing you. Or seeing if he was pulling shit out of his ass. But he reminded me how important my cause was and since it was time sensitive, I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t at least have simply said hi?”

“Sweetheart, there is no ‘simply’ between us. If I’d have seen you, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”

Tears fall from my eyes and I wipe at them furiously. “Did it work out at least?”

“Did what work out?”

“Ellie. And the Fireflies.”

Joel grows quiet for several moments. “Turns out they didn’t need her after all. Found others and couldn’t use the blood.”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying but now’s not the time to press him for more information.

“She come here with you?”

Joel nods. “I wasn’t just gonna leave her there.”

“No, no. I think that’s great. There’s a good community here. I’m sure she’ll fit right in.”

“She was already makin’ friends the moment we walked in the gate.”

A long pause passes between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s a processing silence, both of us trying to categorize and file the information we both learned from the other. When I look at him, I can tell he’s far off, thinking and brooding on things, which isn’t always a good thing.

“I wish you’d have told me that night.”

Ah.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“It would’ve changed everything! I would’ve grabbed Sarah and headed straight over to your place, bringing you…I don’t know, ginger ale and crackers? Whatever you wanted. We’d have stayed with you, started our family. Sarah so wanted a sibling. Especially a sister. Shit, she’d be so happy right now if she were….”

His voice tapers off but I know what he was going to say.

If she were alive.

I place my hand on his and squeeze it. “Tommy told me. I know nothing I say can make up for it, but I am so sorry Joel. I miss her terribly. I can’t imagine how it is for you.”

His mouth sets in a line, his jaw clenching, hand squeezing a little tighter on my thigh as if he’s trying to prevent himself from losing it.

“Maybe if I had known you were pregnant, and we came over, she’d still be alive.”

“Oh, Joel, no. You can’t think like that-”

“I failed her.”

He spoke so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. The guilt in his words, however, was loud enough to hear from space. I bring my other hand to the side of his face, cupping his cheek, his patchy greyish stubble poking at my fingers, and gently turn his face upwards to mine.

“You are a great man, Joel. And a hell of a father. There is no way that Sarah would ever think that you failed her in any way. She loved you so much and idolized you.”

The tears come this time, unable to hold them back any longer. I pull him to me and hug him, cradling the back of his head as he cries into my shoulder, mourning the loss of his daughter anew as he attempts to put aside the intense load of guilt he’s carried around for the last 2 decades. We stay like this for a while, my own tears mixing with his, as the light from the setting sun streaks through the curtains.

Eventually, Joel pulls back, wiping at his face with the back of his hand before he finally looks at me, his beautiful eyes puffy from tears. I’m sure mine don’t look any better.

“Sorry about that.”

“Sorry for what? Being human?”

He smiles and the room lights up with it. “You were always so good at that.”

“At what?”

“Letting me feel things. And makin’ me feel like I wasn’t a complete fuck up.”

“That’s because you aren’t.”

He scoffs, smirking at me in disbelief. “I’ve had to do some shady shit to survive, sweetheart.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“You got me there. I’m still a fuck up though. Don’t know how you didn’t see it.”

“Hhmm…” I put my finger to my chin in mock thinking. “It’s probably because I’m in love with you then.”

Joel cocks his head slightly to the side, questioning my statement. I’m not sure why, as my love for him is no secret to me.

“In love? Not was in love?”

Oh.

“I-”

The front door opens and Poppy walks in. I nearly jump out of my skin, having been completely absorbed in our conversation. Or was it more of a confession?

“Hey Mom! I’m only home to grab some clothes. Then I’m heading to Lyra’s. There’s this new girl in town, Ellie? She’s only 15 but she’s pretty cool. Oh.” Poppy had walked into the living room, her eyes, exactly like her father’s, shifting from me to Joel. I stand and Joel copies me, staying put while I walk around the couch towards Poppy.

“Mom..I didn’t know you had company. You never have company.” She thinks she’s speaking quietly but it’s not quiet enough.

“Poppy-”

“I mean, I think it’s great, but….but…” Her eyes fully take in Joel, landing on his face as she stares, her eyes slowly widening in realization. She had only seen him in the photos I was able to share with her, a few printed ones and then some on the cell phone I had refused to toss away, carting it across the country along with a charger in hopes of finding power to charge it.

“Dad?” Poppy whispers in disbelief.

Joel looks nervous, his weight shifting from foot to foot. This man has faced countless clickers, bandits, and worse, but meeting his 20 year old daughter is the thing that does him in?

God I love this man.

His hand comes up and does a little wave as he stares back at her, clearing his throat. “Hi. I’m uh… I’m Joel.”

“Dad!” Poppy drops her bag and runs, launching herself over the couch and straight into his arms, wrapping herself around him as she cries. It takes Joel a moment to recover from the intense reaction, but he wraps his arms around her and holds her, hugging her just as tight. Tears obstruct my vision and I blink quickly, trying to wipe them away so I don’t miss a moment of this meeting.

Her feet back on the floor, Poppy pulls back, her eyes raking over Joel’s face. “Was I too much?”

Joel laughs, smiling down at his daughter. “Not enough.”

She laughs and he brings his hand to her face, wiping away her tears. “I’m sorry, Poppy.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t know-”

She waves her hand. “Mom told me everything. You never knew I existed and then the world went to shit. It’s ok. You’re here now and that’s what matters! Wait - you are staying right?”

Joel’s eyes shift from Poppy’s to mine and I look back at him waiting for an answer myself. I want him to stay, desperately need him to stay, but I understand if he wants to leave. I never asked if he had someone waiting for him somewhere.

“I don’t wanna step on you or your mom’s toes-”

Poppy blows a raspberry. “Step away! I know mom is thrilled you’re here. And I want to get to know my dad….dad… I can finally say that! ‘Hey, this is my dad!’ ‘Have you met my dad?’ I just…I can’t believe you’re here and not….not here.”

Clever way of saying dead.

“Me too, Poppy.”

“Mom, I know I said I would meet my friends, but-” she glances back at me and then smiles, giving me a knowing wink “-but I..will be going…to meet up with…Benny. Yeah, he’s uh probably waiting. For me. So I’ll just…grab my things and leave you two…alone…”

She is so not slick, but I love her so much.

She gives me another wink before fully turning to Joel. “We can hangout and talk more?”

“I look forward to it.”

She squeals and gives him one more hug before bounding across the hall to her room and reemerging only a handful of minutes later with a backpack.

“Poppy?”

“Mom?”

“Stay for dinner at least. Then you can meet up with your friends.”

“Ugh, mom. You’re smothering me.” She has a smile while she says it, casually tossing her bag down before sitting next to Joel.

I make dinner while they talk, Poppy telling him about her life and asking him a zillion questions about his. He seems to be able to talk about Sarah now, at least a little before Poppy tactfully changes the topic. They talk throughout dinner, laughing and joking, sounds I never thought I’d hear together. Eventually, Poppy leaves to hang out with her friends, excited to tell them about her dad. As soon as the door closes, Joel turns to me.

“Who’s Benny?”

Protective dad mode activated I see. Smiling, I tell him about Benny and how he’s a good guy and about he and Poppy. He seems more relaxed after but still in protective dad mode.

“I’ll have to meet him.”

“I’m sure you won’t have the choice not to.”

Dishes cleaned up, I offer Joel a glass of whiskey and he takes it, tasting a sip before setting it down on the coffee table as he relaxes back into the couch again.

“You and Ellie have a place to stay?”

“Yeah. Tommy and Maria gave us a house. Actually, it’s not too far from here I don’t think.”

“That’s great. I’m sure Ellie will be happy to have a more permanent place to live.”

“And her own room that she can slam the door to.”

We chat for a few minutes about parenting teenage daughters and the challenges it can bring. He takes another sip of his whiskey after telling me a bit about Ellie, or what he learned about her on their long trek anyway. It’s quiet between us again, but this time, I’m warmed by the whiskey and given a slight bit of confidence.

“In love.”

“What?” Joel asks, setting his glass down.

“From before. In love. Not was.”

He turns to me fully, his eyes raking across my face trying to detect a lie and finding none.

“It’s been 20 years, sweetheart. I don’t expect anythin’-”

“It’s always been you, Joel.”

His large hand cups the back of my head and pulls me to him, his lips crashing against mine and it’s like no time has passed, my lips immediately parting for him like they were created for just this purpose. His other hand comes up to cradle the other side of my head as my fingers cling to his shirt, trying to find purchase on literally anything. I feel like I’m falling but in the most glorious way possible. While I never gave up hope that he was alive, having him here, now, 20 years later, how we both defied odds to just end up in the same community, after the world had been torn apart…

He pulls back, his nose brushing against mine. “I never stopped loving you either, sweetheart.”

My hands slide up his chest and around his neck, gripping the curls at the back of his neck and feeling him groan as he slips his tongue in my mouth again, kissing me harder than before. I feel his fingers gently brush against the exposed skin at my hips, his hands having settled there and I can’t help the moan that escapes me. Joel’s touch has always sent electricity through me, but not having had it for 20 years is a whole new level.

“I don’t mean to be presumptuous, sweetheart, but-”

“My bedroom is down the hall, second door on the right.”

He smiles against my lips, chuckling darkly. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

—----

>>I Never Stopped Living You Part 2>>

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

Original Idea from @theewokingdead:

"I have had this idea for a long-lost love refound fic with Joel Miller swimming around in my head for a while, but I don't think I'll ever get in the headspace to write it. So enjoy what I wish I could write and hope someone will steal. Warning: mention of pregnancy in the beginning.

Imagine it's September 26, 2013. You've been dating Joel for a while and, oops, you're pregnant. You're a flurry of emotions and have no idea how or when you're going to tell him. He calls you late that night, on his way home from a hellish day at the jobsite, telling you about the prick of a contractor he's been dealing with and can't risk losing his job. When he asks if you've checked in on Sarah you tell him that she's fine and you're sorry you were feeling too ill to stay with her today. When he inquires further about your illness, you opt not to say anything, not like this, not when he's had a shit day, and instead feign that everything is okay and you'll be fine. The call is interrupted by Tommy, and you insist Joel answer his call. He offers to call you back, but you tell him to go home and get some rest, that you'll hopefully see him tomorrow.

Of course, several hours later, all hell breaks loose. You manage to get a call through to Joel, telling you to stay put, that he'll come for you, then you lose connection. Joel never finds you, but you never lose hope.

Two decades later, you're living in Jackson, having crossed paths with Tommy a year earlier when he returned to Texas, where you never strayed far from. You overhear the talk - that Tommy Miller's brother is in town - but bandits attack before you can find the source of the rumor. Later, you find Tommy as he puts a horse away in the stable, and you question if it's true, that Joel is here, and he reluctantly tells you he was. You ask if he told Joel that you're here and he says that he did. Your heart sinks - of course he wouldn't still love you after all these years, but why wouldn't he at least want to see you before he left? You ask if he told Joel about your daughter - his daughter - and Tommy says no, that it shouldn't come from his mouth. You're furious, thinking maybe Joel would've stayed in town if he had known that he has a daughter. You let Tommy have it, and eventually he tells you why Joel was in town and why he left, about Ellie and the hope to find a cure. Finally, you come to your senses, realizing there are far more important matters, and try to move on from dreaming about having a little family with a man you never stopped loving.

Months later, you're walking around town when you run into Joel. There are a million different ways the reunion could go. How would you tell him about your shared daughter? How would he feel? Would he be pissed at Tommy for knowing and not telling him when he first came to Jackson? Would he be angry you didn't tell him that night when he called, before the Outbreak? Would he have done anything differently that night had he known - things that could've changed the trajectory of his entire life? Would he wonder if it would have kept you guys together as a family? Would he wonder if it would have even kept Sarah from suffering the fate she suffered? Would he blame you for it? I just imagine it would be one big emotional reunion. How would it end? I don't know. I just love a good re-found love fic - be it happy or sad. I love angst. I love an emotional Joel. It could be fun. But I'll never get around to writing it so let's just pretend I did 😭"

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @Hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @jadore-andor @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlouff #The last of us #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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odinsblog · 1 year

Text

And right on schedule, Mitch McConnell has returned to block the now-deadlocked Judicial committee from selecting a replacement for the ailing Feinstein. So Democrats are now successfully blocked from appointing any of Biden’s judicial nominees to the bench. Feinstein stepping down and allowing California’s Democratic governor, Gavin Newsom, to name her replacement is one easy way to end this Republican farce, but she won’t do what’s best for her constituents. (source)

Feinstein has been missing in action for months now. Her absence is materially harming the nomination and appointment of judges—judges who could counter the radical zealots that Trump seated. If she cannot do the job any longer (and there is a lot more to be said on that front), then she needs to make room for someone else who can.

I understand that a lot of Blue MAGA sycophants do not like to read, see or hear anything even slightly negative about RBG, but the truth is that she had cancer and knew that her health was failing.

Despite two previous bouts with metastatic pancreatic cancer and public pleas from Democratic law scholars, she decided not to retire in 2013 or 2014 when Obama and a Democratic-controlled Senate could have appointed and confirmed her successor. Waiting until Hillary could replace her was a selfish and incredibly risky gambit, and in the end, she lost. Now everyone else is paying the price for her hubris.

Had to be said. Sorry.

I’m not necessarily his biggest fan, but at least Stephen Breyer understood that when a Supreme Court Justice decides to retire, and who will pick their replacement, is an important part of post-electoral politics.

Look, I’m a BIG believer in going hard and doing all the good you can, while you can. This goes doubly for people in positions of power, like politicians. Because guess what? Tomorrow is not promised to anyone.

This is another reason why I have such a problem with “pragmatism”… we won’t always win, but we must always fight for what is right. Settling for what you can get is one thing, but deliberately aiming low so as not to make waves or upset the conservative base is entirely different.

So IF you can get more good things™ done today, then you should go for it while the getting is still good. Time is a luxury and incrementalism favors the wealthy and powerful. Republican strategist Lee Atwater understood that stalling and delaying on a political outcome was just as good as winning the battle. Because stalling and delaying, with only minor cosmetic changes, maintains the status quo.

Democrats need to understand that “triangulating” and “pragmatically” waiting for a better time is precisely what Republicans want. It’s acquiescing.

I believe in what MLKjr called the fierce urgency of now, not the fierce urgency of pragmatically waiting for conservatives to decide on when would be a better time for progress.

It’s super easy to be “pragmatic” and wait just a bit longer when it’s not YOUR rights that are being denied and trampled on.

Anyway, Dianne Feinstein needs to retire. Now.

#politics #dianne feinstein #mitch mcconnell #rbg #scotus

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theroosterperch · 2 years

Text

one of the girls.

(Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

Word Count: 2.8K

Trigger Warnings: Nothing I can think of, just fluff <3

A/N: I’m currently writing another insanely long fic but it’s taking me forever and a half. Perhaps posting a shorter one first will give me the push I need. We’ll see. Enjoy some Rooster content where he gets in touch with his feminine side (as we all know, he drinks The Feminist Elixir™️). Also my friend and I were discussing the fact that Rooster is a gossip man. You got work drama? Someone talking smack about someone’s ex’s girlfriend’s cousin’s daughter’s husband? He’s INVESTED, he’s pulling out the popcorn. We don't make the rules but also yes we do.

(P.S. This is the first little fic I've written since my 2013 Wattpad days, please be gentle lmfao)

Summary: Penny asks you to watch Amelia (your goddaughter) for the night and Rooster tags along :)

After getting off work, you decide to head down to the Hard Deck as per your usual Friday evening routine. It had been a long, exhausting day even if it was only 6pm, but you always had time and energy for Fridays at the Hard Deck. Everybody you loved was always there…Maverick, Penny, Phoenix, Coyote, Fanboy, Bob, Hangman (yes, even Hangman), but mainly Rooster—your lovely, warm, incredibly funny and cheeky charming boyfriend. At the end of your longest, saddest, most frustrating days, he always knew exactly how to cheer you up or at least take the edge off. Even just having him in the same vicinity was comforting…like an emotional heat lamp or weighted blanket for the soul. And his hugs…oh, lord, his hugs. Warm, safe, always a bit tight but never too much; at your most broken, it felt like he could just hug you back together. Every time you reunited at the end of the day, he would greet you with one of these hugs, a sweet kiss to some part of the face, and a cheeky “hi beautiful”, and it never waned, even after the several years you had been together. Tonight at the Hard Deck was no exception.

When you walked in the door, you were greeted with the familiar smell of mixed perfumes and colognes, the faint smell of alcohol, beach wood, and salty air. You scanned the crowd for familiar faces, ultimately landing on Penny behind the bar. You approached, trying to get her attention over the noise.

“Busy night?” You shout. She turns around, giving you a warm smile, while somehow juggling too many glasses and bottles of beer in her arms.

“You could say that,” she laughs, attempting to set them down and disperse them to the people crowding the counter. As they all took their drinks, some disappeared elsewhere in the room. “You know how Friday nights are.”

Indeed, I do.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Penny says, turning to you with an inquisitive yet guilty look on her face. “And you can 100% say no if you want to.”

“What is it? Is everything okay?” You ask, concerned.

“Yeah, yeah…it’s just-” She trails off, now fidgeting with random objects behind the counter “Pete and I…we-...well, we haven’t been able to get much alone time since the mission happened and I was wondering if you could hangout with Amelia tonight while we have some time for ourselves. I know it’s last minute but-”

“Say no more,” You interrupt, laughing “she’s my goddaughter, I would love to.”

“Are you sure? This won’t interrupt any plans you have with Bradley?”

“I think the plan for tonight was just to hangout here,” you smile, grabbing a beer from behind the counter. “It’s all good, really. You two deserve some alone time.”

“You are an angel, truly,” she smiles. “Amelia is at the house–probably with her head in some book–so just head over whenever you like. I should be back by tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good, I’ll leave in a bit.”

“Leaving me so soon?” a raspy voice says behind you. You suddenly feel those all-too-familiar arms wrap around you, and you can’t help but smile. You feel a soft kiss on your neck and a slight tickle from that damn 80’s stache. You turn your head toward Rooster to see him looking down into your eyes, smiling softly as he places a gentle kiss to your lips. “Hi beautiful.” he whispers. There it was.

“Hey stranger.”

“What evil are you two scheming?” He chuckles, motioning towards you and Penny.

“World domination,” you say “but only after I’m done watching Amelia for the night.”

“Hmm…sounds fun. Am I invited?”

“I was thinking it could be more of a….” you trail off, looking at Penny, and she smiles. “girl’s night. Just me and Amelia, ya know—watch chick flicks, do facemasks, paint nails, gossip…the whole nine yards.”

Rooster steps aside slightly, one arm still around your waist as he raises his other hand to his chest dramatically. He gasps, fake-offended: “I can do a girl’s night. I can be one of the girls, I’ll blend right in. Besides, I was looking forward to spending time with you tonight, whatever form that takes.”

You smile up at him as he takes one of your hands and raises it to his lips, placing multiple soft kisses to the top and fingertips, ultimately flattening it against the side of his cheek to cup his face. You sigh, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb as his eyes searched yours for an answer. Ugh, how could you say no?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A few hours passed and you found yourself sitting on the floor of Penny’s living room with Rooster and Amelia, the three of you having demolished a giant pizza from her favorite restaurant. You admittedly didn’t get to spend as much time with your goddaughter as you would’ve liked, with you working and Amelia going to school–any chance you could get to spoil her, whether it be with her favorite pizza, riding bikes along the beach and getting ice cream, or just hanging out like you were—you were going to take it. She was like your little sister, and you were not only grateful that Penny had chosen you to be her godmother, but also that Rooster was so encouraging and enthusiastic about your role in her life. He had happily come to take on a cool uncle sort of role, offering as much time and support to you both as he could. You could not ask for a better partner, or a cooler goddaughter for that matter.

You throw the last of your crust into the nearly empty pizza box, sighing contently as you lean against Rooster’s shoulder, the both of you resting against the front of the couch. You reentered the conversation in front of you, a dramatic retelling of an adorably adolescent outburst towards Amelia at school.

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up,” Rooster exclaims, still chewing on the crust of his last slice, “she said what about your science fair project?”

“You heard me,” Amelia states, sassily. “The absolute nerve. I saw her trip when we were running the mile but did I say anything? No.”

“Kids these days,” he laughs as he looks over at you, “they’re a different breed.”

“Hey, as I recall via Maverick you have some pretty interesting stories as well. It sounds like you were quite the troublemak-”

“I was a saint, thank you very much,” Rooster laughs. “Don’t tarnish my reputation.”

You playfully swat at his chest, only for him to catch your wrist and place a quick kiss to your forearm. He holds it across his chest, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“Eeeeughh, you guys are nauseating.” Amelia states, pretending to gag. Rooster lets out a wonderfully deep laugh as he finishes his last bite, dusting off crumbs from his fingers. He sits back groaning, putting one arm around you, the other on his belly.

“I’ve never been so full in my life,” he exhales, patting his stomach softly “I might go into a coma.”

You and Amelia both chuckle at this, until suddenly you get an idea. You look at Amelia and wink, facing her but glancing your eyes towards the man beside you. “So,” you begin, “I was thinking we could do…makeovers or something like that, I’ve been meaning to try my hand at this cool eyeliner trick I saw online.”

Amelia, picking up the hint, smiles at you mischievously, both of you now turning to look directly at Rooster. “I was thinking the exact. same. thing.”

He looks a bit confused for a second, eyes darting between you and Amelia, a nervously amused smile forming on his face. He llet his head drop down, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I should’ve seen that coming.”

This was going to be a fun night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Endless gossip, two buckets of popcorn,and 6 episodes of Gilmore Girls later, Amelia fell peacefully asleep on her bed. You were now sitting on her bedroom floor in-between Rooster’s legs with your back against his chest, his back against the foot of the bed. He had one hand resting on your bent knee, the other laying somewhat limp in your hands as you directed your attention to painting the nails on his left hand. He watched you silently for a moment, smiling to himself at how cute you looked when you made your focus-face, your tongue sticking slightly out and eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

“Hmmm…you’re so beautiful.” he hums against you, nuzzling his face against your back, occasionally giving you feather-light kisses through the fabric of your shirt. Feeling his hot breath on your back, you got the shivers down your spine and Rooster chuckles, pressing his chest against you further in an effort to aid your chills. He eventually sits up slightly to get a better look at the electric blue artistry you were now slathering on his nails. “...and I supposed you’re not half bad at this.”

You snort, awkwardly. “Thanks, love. I do my best.”

A silent moment goes by before you remember the events that transpired earlier in the evening. “Speaking of beautiful…,” you say as you turn around carefully in his lap. You bent your legs to place them on either side of his hips, almost sitting cross-legged and chest-to-chest against him. You took his face in your hands to turn it straight toward you, “..c’mere good lookin.”

You grabbed the micellar water and package of cotton rounds on the ground next to you that Amelia had used to take off her own makeup after Rooster did his best smokey eye on the poor girl. You had to admit it was sweet; he tried so hard and he even had a reference photo from Pinterest that he kept looking at, insistent on doing it right. The end result was similar to that of a sparkly raccoon, but you both reassured him that it wasn’t bad for someone who spent his days about as far away from all things cosmetic—literally, thousands of feet in the sky, away from the Earth and the nearest Ulta. Amelia returned the favor by donning him with Marilyn Monroe-esque eyeliner and a matching beauty mark, painting his lips bright red as best she could with his mustache. When he saw his reflection in Amelia’s handheld mirror, he folded over laughing.

“Ya know,” he got out between laughs. “I’m more of an Audrey Hepburn man myself, but I think Marilyn suits me.”

“Oh, great. Next time we can put you in a tutu. Maybe a little black dress?” You laugh.

You poured a little bit of the water onto a cotton round, and set the bottle aside. You begin to gently sweep the round across his eyes and lips, doing your best to get off what you could of the impressively stubborn eyeliner and lipstick. Itt was fun to see him with makeup on as it was never something he wore, and you had to admit you enjoyed this for more than one reason. Yes, it was fun to see him with it on, and to see him bond with Amelia, but this was good for you for an entirely different reason. Getting to sit so close to him, paying special attention to his devastatingly beautiful face–getting to admire his wonderfully long eyelashes, his cute nose, the semi-raised scars decorating his jaw and neck…there wasn’t a detail about this man that didn’t have you absolutely whipped.

After a while, you finally manage to get it all off, turning slightly to set down the supplies. When you turn back you find Rooster staring at you contently. There was no mischief, no cheekiness. He looked serious, blinking slowly–his gaze was intense, full of nothing but deep love and admiration. He softly smiles and reaches up to gently tuck a few loose hairs behind your ear with the very tips of his fingers. You once again get the chills, except this time it radiated through you like an electric shockwave. Lord have mercy.

“How’d I get so lucky…” he whispers, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. It was moments like these that made your heart ache in the best possible way…when it was just you and him, the quiet. Nothing to do but comfortably sit in each other’s presence, admiring. You would be lying if you denied that after all these years, this man didn’t give you butterflies.

“No..” you quietly chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”

Rooster smiles at this warmly, putting his arms around your waist and pulling you close into one of those irreplaceable, ultra-comfortable, soul-soothing hugs–his hand gently pushing on the back of your head to get you to rest on his shoulder. He began to rock just barely side-to-side…you’re not sure how long you had sat there, but you began to feel him lazily trace patterns all over your back and…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You don’t ever remember falling asleep, but you are awoken by a soft murmuring somewhere behind you. When you finally open your eyes and turn your head, you see Penny sitting at the edge of Amelia’s bed, softly stroking her hair. You hear her whisper to Amelia but you can’t quite make out what she says. Hope she had a good time.

You turn even further to see Rooster sleeping peacefully behind you, his arm draped lazily over your waist. You smile at his darling face, peaceful as he rests—surprisingly well—on the shag carpet of Amelia’s bedroom floor. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to run your fingertips through his hair, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and eyelids. After a moment his eyelashes flutter slightly, and his eyes open–confused for a moment before finally focusing on your. He brings a hand up, groggily rubbing the sleep from his face the best he could. What a sight for sore eyes. He smiles at you and leans up, propping himself on one elbow, the other hand caressing the back of your head to pull you slightly forward. Usually a morning kiss would consist of something quick as you both are rushing to get to work,, but not this morning. He kisses you dizzingly slow and deeper than usual for his morning display of affection–had you been in the comfort of your own home, it would not be just a kiss but you store that in the mental bank for later.

He barely pulls away, resting his forehead against yours “good morning gorgeous” he says with a smile.

“Mornin, stud.” you quip back. He chuckles, letting out a throaty laugh before quickly kissing you on the forehead, his hand still caressing the back of your head. Suddenly, you’re interrupted by Penny.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Penny laughs quietly “thanks for hanging out with her, I know she had a lot of fun.”

“So did we,” you and Rooster say at the same time.

“Let’s get up and I’ll buy us all breakfast, my treat.” Penny encourages. You both stand up wobbling, leaning on each other for as much support as you could give–the reality of sleeping on the floor now becoming painfully obvious. You hobble into the kitchen, gathering your things, and you notice Rooster is a little far behind you, visibly uncomfortable as he tried to stretch out his back to relieve some of the tension.

“I’m sorry if that was uncomfortable,” you said, running your hand down his back in an effort to soothe some of the pain. “We should’ve slept on the couch or something.”

”No apology needed,” he said insistently, looking at you like you had lost your mind. He kisses your cheek before continuing. “I said I wanted to spend time with you however I could, right? The sore back is totally worth it. Besides, there’s been plenty of times I’ve left you a bit sor-”

“Hey now,” you interrupt, putting your hand over his mouth “none of that til we’re out of Penny’s house.”

Penny looks at you guys, and shakes her head laughing. “You two crack me up.”

You both chuckle at her response, knowing damn well she’s aware of your activities as a couple. After all, she had quite literally asked you to babysit so she could have some alone time with a certain someone. Rooster returns his attention to you, grabbing your hand, a cheeky grin plastering his face.

“Am I one of the girls now? Did I pass the test?”

“Mmm….,” you hum, looking up as you pretend to think about it. “you did alright. I’ll keep you around anyhow.”

“Perfect,” he laughs, resting his head on top of yours. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Yeah, me neither.

**************

#rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster headcanon #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick

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seniorinternaut · 11 months

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THE TOMORROW PEOPLE (2013-2014) Luke Mitchell as John Young in 1x01 Pilot

#Luke Mitchell #the Tomorrow People #John Young #lukemitchelledit #ttpedit #thetomorrowpeopleedit #igetboredsometimesandactuallycontributethings #tvedit #cinematv #tvandfilm #smallscreensource #mancandykings #dailyflicks #tvfilmsource #cwedit #televisiongif #televisionedit #his hair looked so good in the pilot

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months

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Surviving The Conjuring

Terrifying Tuesday, October 3, 2023

Fic-Tober Masterlist

Summary: Dalton accompanies you to the first week of the Terrifying Tuesday horror movie marathon for the tenth anniversary showing of The Conjuring. When you notice something about Ed Warren, you eliminate Dalton's anxiety and create a new game.

Warnings: spoilers for and dialogue from The Conjuring (2013) and Scream (1996), takes place after The Red Door (2023), brief mentions of anxiety, fluff, I think it could be read as platonic or romantic. 1.0k+ words.

A/N: That title is the best I could do? I watched The Conjuring for the first time last night so if the order of events I mention isn't accurate, I apologize. I hope you enjoy the Patrick Wilson horror movie inception! :)

Your phone begins to ring, and you tear your attention away from Dalton to check it. He’s been in your dorm most of the day, and you lost track of time.

“I have to go,” you say as you stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Where are you going?” Dalton asks, eyes following you as you navigate your dorm. “Big plans without me?”

You laugh before promising, “You don’t want to go to these big plans. I’m going to see the tenth anniversary showing of The Conjuring.”

“I can go with you,” he says before adding, “so you don’t have to go alone.”

“It’s fine, Dalton. I invited Chris but she’s busy.”

Dalton looks up at you, his unintentional puppy-dog eyes getting the best of you.

“I just don’t want you to be miserable the whole time. That’s the only reason I didn’t invite you before.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I can hold your hand if I get scared,” Dalton responds, grabbing your hand in his.

You look between his face and your joined hands before sighing. “Fine. On one condition. If you get scared or don’t like it, any reason at all, and want to leave you have to tell me. Immediately. Deal?”

Dalton shakes your hand and agrees to your terms before walking out with you. When you arrive at the park and find a quiet area to sit where you can see the screen, Dalton pulls you as close as possible and asks you questions about the movie before it starts.

“Remember what I said. If you want to leave, tell me. It’s not a problem, Dalton, I want you to be comfortable and have a good time,” you remind him as the screen is illuminated.

The movie begins, and you give it most of your attention, a part of your brain dedicated to Dalton and his wellbeing. You can feel him beside you, and at the first sign of discomfort or anxiety, you plan to get him out and do something else.

As the movie plays and the scenes switch between Ed and Lorraine Warren and the Perron family, you feel a strange sense of recognition whenever Ed appears or speaks.

“It’s something inhuman,” Ed Warren speaks, referring to Annabelle.

Dalton pulls your hand into his lap and begins tracing shapes on your palm. Glancing over, he looks relaxed, so you let him continue his ministrations. Not that you’d ever complain about being so close to Dalton.

“What is an inhuman spirit?”

“It’s something demonic…” Dalton tenses beside you. “It was used as a conduit. It moves around to give the impression of possession. Demonic spirits don’t possess things. They possess people. It wanted to get inside of you.” Dalton jerks slightly, and as Ed re-enters the center frame, you finally realize why he looks so familiar.

Eager to share your revelation and hoping to get Dalton’s mind off the idea of demonic spirits, you lean over and whisper, “Ed looks just like your dad.”

Dalton’s head snaps up to the screen, your hand still in his, as he says, “No, he doesn’t.” He watches the screen for a minute with furrowed brows before conceding, “He does. That’s kind of creepy.”

You laugh lightly, then ask, “Do you think your dad could survive a horror movie?”

“I mean… he kind of has.”

“I mean a real horror movie; scripted jump scares and all. Like this one. I think he would, survive, I mean. He would just be skeptical the whole time, wouldn’t believe what he was seeing.”

“He would absolutely be a skeptic.” Dalton continues to watch, no longer seeming anxious. When Ed hugs his daughter, Dalton says, “He certainly wouldn’t do that.”

You laugh loudly before covering it up with a cough, pressing your face against Dalton’s shoulder. Inching closer to Dalton, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. The new proximity makes it easier to whisper as you discuss whether or not Josh could survive. Dalton remains on the fence, while you are confident he would.

Dalton has been silent for several scenes, enraptured with the story on the screen. When Ed jumps out of the way of the falling wardrobe, however, Dalton breaks his silence to say one word: “Dead.”

You laugh again and then argue that if Renai had yelled his name like Lorraine had, he would have had enough reaction time to get out of the way.

“You have way too much faith in my dad,” Dalton whispers into your hair.

“Maybe you don’t have enough.”

He chuckles before turning his head to watch again. Later, after Ed is nearly shot, he whispers, “Dead, for sure.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, smiling at Dalton’s insistence that Josh could not survive the horror movie. “Brad saved him! You think Foster wouldn’t save your dad?”

“I think Foster would film it, honestly. Or not know anything was happening.”

“You have issues,” you tease, shaking your head at Dalton.

As the movie ends and the lights in the park flicker on, you look at Dalton, eyebrows raised as you wait for his final judgment.

“What do you want to hear?” Dalton asks with a sigh, pulling you to your feet.

“The truth. Could Josh Lambert, the great father of Dalton, survive The Conjuring?”

Dalton runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head while smiling. “Yes. You were right.”

You raise your hands to cheer, but Dalton cuts you off. “However, he would not believe it. He’d say,” he pauses and changes his voice to imitate his dad, “Those people are just crazy, Dalton.”

“That was a really good impression,” you point out as he leads you toward the exit. “So, what other horror movies could he survive?”

“Scream, maybe? I don’t know.”

“No, he’d be the Casey Becker,” you argue. “Or Stu Macher.”

Dalton laughs and tips his head back. “I’m telling him you said that.”

“Don’t you dare! Seriously, what horror movie could he without a doubt survive?”

“What’s playing next week?” Dalton asks as you pass the sign for Terrifying Tuesdays.

“Oh,” you laugh before stating, with absolute confidence, “Your dad would be dead in the first fifteen minutes.”

Dalton smiles as he trails behind you, wondering how you made a horror movie date so much fun. He looks forward to the next movie, something he never expected to think.

“We’ll see.”

“Does that mean you’re coming with me?”

“Are you kidding? Judging whether or not my dad could survive a horror movie is something I will never pass up.”

#fluentmoviequoterfictober23 #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert #insidious #insidious the red door

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dayslynthesix · 8 months

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match point | jenson button x volleyball player!wife

for some dumb reason while i was watching the usopen i got this idea of jenson and here we are so lets goooo

ps: this is a agegap, jenson is 9 years older than the mais character and I made some adjustments to fit the character, all the team mentioned here do exist and are the ones i support in real life

2009, Monaco

It was my dad's favorite time of the year, the Monaco GP and the one and only that we always go to watch, since I was a child. I skipped class that week just to be there, and probably my volleyball couch would be very angry once i went back to college, but family traditions are here for something. My oldest brother, Jeremy, was very close friend to someone inside the Brown garage, so not only we were watching the grand prix but we were also watching the grand prix from the big tv inside the garage.

And Jenson Button, of course.

He was fighting for the championship, something no one thought Brown could do it, especially this year. Jenson and Jeremy were close in age and they had something in common, they really like to party, and that's how they became friends - and also how i got a crush on him.

Jenson won the Monaco grand prix, he was dripping champagne and sweat once my brother introduced us. We shaked hands and shared a polite smile, nothing more. He said hi to my dad and that's all. But he and my brother went partying together, that's for sure. And tomorrow my brother would brag about it, as he always did every once in a while when they went out.

After all, he was one of the Jenson Button friends.

2013, Italy

Main setter of the US national team.

Captain of the US national team.

Number 1 in the setters ranking.

Captain of VakifBank.

That's me. All me. I couldn't believe that i was here. Inside of a court. Playing pro. If you asked me how this happened, I wouldn't be able to answer. One day I was 7 playing beach volleyball with my friends and a few years later I was 23 playing pro in Turkey.

It was the finals of the European Championship, we were down 2-0, all they had to do was to win the current set, but we really wanted that title, and we were fighting for it.

19x13.

19x15.

19x19.

20x23.

21x25.

We can do it. I know we can.

My dad's voice is echoing trough my mind. Play smart. Play safe. Don't risk. You can do it. Your team can do it. Trust them.

2x2 on sets.

We were goind the best of 5.

That title was ours. I had the best of the best. I trust my team. The title is ours.

14x14.

I looked trough the court. I knew where they weren't defending. I knew those players.

I set the ball, my outside hitter put on the block.

I made the first touch.

The libero set to me.

That point was the 14x15 we needed.

Just one point.

We can do it.

We did it.

The court went insane. The cheering. The noise. The hugs. We did it. We won. We were European champions. I made it. I the middle of the noise, the crowd, the yellow jerseys I spotted my family, my mom, my dad, my brother. And him. Jenson was there too. He was there, he was wearing the jersey with my name and number.

Rossi. 1.

The award ceremony was always my favorite part of every competition. The warm. The love. The anticipation.

"And the MVP award is going home. Is going to Turkey, Yolanda Rossi, congratulations, you are the most valuable player on this tournament."

I don't know how I'm here today. I don't know what I did to deserve the blessing of be on court, doing what I love, with people that I love. But I was.

I don't remember how I ended up being held in the air, hugging Jenson Button himself, while he was wearing my name and my number. But i remember that day was the day that we finally had something in common. I remember how we talked about our lives, our family, about England, US, about formula one, volleyball, and I remembered the crush I used to have for him. And that he's an insanely good kisser. And that after that day, there wasn't one sigle day I wanted to spend without him.

2023, California

"We met in very different moments of our lives, Like, I was in college, Jenson was being champion that year. I was 19, I didn't knew shit of life, he was on the road far more time than I was. Looking back, it makes sense why we didn't get along in the beginning. 2009 was a very strange and very distant year. But when we met again in 2013, it was different, I mean, I was in a very different place, I was already in national team, playing pro, at that point, I was the best..."

"You're still the best." Jenson cut me halfway my sentence, taking a smile from the hosts of the podcast we were on.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm still the best... but like, 2013 made sense for us. I remember that final match when I saw him wearing that infamous yellow shirt with my name on it, one of my teammates at time had to hold me. And it sounds cliche, brother best friend and so, but I crushed him so hard and took him 4 years to notice."

"It didn't, I knew way sooner. The way you were looking at me on the Monaco podium? I knew it, babe, I always knew. But as you said, the first time it didn't make sense, but later i thought that, looking back, was the right moment, we didn't rushed things and they worked the way they should. Plus, your brother would kill me if I had asked you out in 2009."

"Yeah, he would, and at this point I wouldn't have a husband." The hosts just let us tell them the story. Asking questions once in a while, just letting us talk about it.

"Yolanda had for a very long time the most insane agenda. Like, the club season went from October to May, sort of, and than the national team season was about May to September, she was almost always on court, the free periods of time she had free was like, I don't know, once in a lifetime? And my agenda was also very messy, I was traveling around the world every week and when I was not I was in Turkey with her. At the same time she was a formula one master I was a volleyball master, I got myself thinking where the other team player was missing to defend a ball, how the block wasn't right and sometimes, during a grand prix, she was on the phone with my race engineer talking about strategy, thats why we worked so well together."

Jenson love to tell people about that, it happened twice but he was very proud about how those two times I made the right call.

"I thought about stopping after Rio Olympics, and I did, for a year and a half I was traveling with Jenson around the world, and it was magical, but I miss the court, and the game, and ny teammate so badly that i take myself out of retirement. Rio was the most amazing thing in my life, i achieved my goal, I was a gold medalist at an Olympics. I never thought I could do it twice you know? Winning the title is not impossible, but it is very difficult to hold the gold for the next Olympics."

The flashbacks from that day was on loop on my mind. That game was insane. That atmosphere were amazing. It was one of the best days of my life.

"She called me and she was like "I'm on the final" as if I didn't watched the game for the semifinal, the next thing I knew was McLaren very mad at me because I was going to the airport to see my girl play her first Olympics final, and once I got there, she was also mad at me because I was supposed to be on factory. I didn't care where I was supposed to be."

"He said that but he was also very mad because I lost a game to be there to his final race and imagine how surprised I was in 2017 whe he was racing in Monaco? But we made those sacrifices to be there for each other."

Our wedding was always on topic. Always.

"Yeah, my man of honor were Seb, Mark and Lewis. And Lan's friends kept looking at them with a very intrigued face, as my friends kept looking at that amout of volleyball players walking around. I think that at our wedding there was like 20 gold medals, or more, Lewis, Seb and I together we didn't have the amount of titles they had and that was insane."

"At the end of the night we were almost competitively showing our titles to them, especially Priya and Lewis, they were on each others neck about who was the most victorious and Priya would kill me if she listen to me saying that unfortunately for her, Lewis had more titles than her."

We took a break to have a coffee, take a few pictures, eat something and to finish the episode.

"Yeah, I'm retiring after Paris. I didn't think I was coming back for Tokyo but Karch called me and I went, it was worth the price, but I'm gonna be like 34 in Paris, and all the pre Olympics and VNL apart from the club season is taking the price very seriously, but after Paris I'm retiring, I have achieved all my goals, gold medal, won everything with my teams, world champion, like, I rather retire while I'm still considered the best than to put mediocre seasons in the future."

"She says that but she was on edge once I did that. But our bodies pay the price. Being a high level athlete is very expensive, the traveling, the training, the exhaustion, being away from home, our friends, family... it's difficult, I'll be there for her last set and I'll bring every friend of mine, Lewis said that he and Seb will also be there, and Mark is still believing that she's going to Australia 2028. And fun fact, every time she's at the paddock with me, the young drivers are surrounding her, like, yeah, I'm jealous."

We had amazing 10 years of just traveling around, playing and driving for a living and sharing more things that we could ever hope to. Jenson and I build a life together. We grew and learned things about love that I know I wouldn't lear from anyone in the world. A lifetime wasn't enough to the amount of happiness we share.

jensonbutton

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, yrossibutton, aussiegrit and 987.354 others

jensonbutton were just going there to get married and we'll be back soon

yrossibutton cheers to miss and mister button (i still think jenson rossi-button would be insanely good)

jeremyrossi congrats to my favorite people

lewishamilton we still have more titles.

priyacaspari no, you dont

dahliabishop no, you don't

khill1 lol

august 13, 2017

yrossibutton

liked by jensonbutton, formulaone, volleybalnationsleague and 876.321 others

yrossibutton oops, we did it again. THANK YOU to my team, my coach, my family, my husband, my friends and all the support. after rio i find it very difficult to believe that i would be here again, but my people show me how wrong i was and it was a privilege to be on the highest spot on the podium with them one more time. congrats to the brazilian team, they did amazing during these olympics and im honored to play against them. thank you tokyo, you treated me very nicely and ill be forever grateful for these days.

jensonbutton insanely proud of you and the team. well done, girls, amazing volleyball as usual.

priyacaspari we did it! its a privilege to play with you

lewishamilton wow, two in a row? you're about to beat me

jeremyrossi my sister is a badass

maxverstappen1 number 1 for a reason

jensonbutton i know you're dying to make a comment about how the two of you are a perfect match, i know

yrossibutton yeah, i know it too, but maxie im already married

usavolleyball well done, girls. let's keep pushing.

august 8, 2021

yrossibutton

liked by vakifbank, jensonbutton, gg10, usavolleyball and others 678.877 others

yrossibutton last ride with this team couldn't be different. im wearing yellow and black for the past 8 seasons in my pro life, it was a great last ride. thank you turkey, im forever grateful for all those 10 years, thank you girls, i love all and each one of you. gabi, i know you'll be the most amazing captain this team could ask for, it was a pleasure to see you grow and become the amazing player you are. see you all outside the court.

vakifbank thank you, Yolanda. you are the best.

gabiguimaraes10 thank you! it was a honor all those years.

jensonbutton you did amazing, bae

maxverstappen1 i mean...

april 4, 2024

yrossibutton

liked by parisolympics2024, priyacaspari, jensonbutton, lewishamilton and 1M others

yrossibutton three in a row. wow. i dont even know where to start. the first time i put these colors on i was 22, i wear them for 12 years, i won and i lose with them. i was very happy and very disappointed too. 2016 was dream coming true. just to be there and play an olympics i was happy, and we won. 2021 was the "i made it", it was a dream i didn't knew i had it. that gold medal is more than i could have ever expected. this one i have no words to describe. i don't know what im feeling while i hold this medal. or how to say goodbye, but thats it, 12 years later and im resting that shirt, resting the captains belt and saying goodbye to the most memorable career i could ever dream about it. thank you, paris, you'll be forever in my dreams. thank you, girls, you deserved it. to priya and dahlia who are here since 2016, it was an honor and a pleasure to play with you and share more than the court with the two of you. thank you. thank you. thank you.

lewishamilton congrats yoyo, you deserved every second of that, im very proud of you

jensonbutton forever my number 1.

priyacaspari i love you, i love every second of the time we share in this sport

dahliabishop it was meant to be us against the world

gabiguimaraes10 congrats, yolanda. it was a pleasure to play with you and to watch you play. thank you for everything you did. you're a legend.

august 10, 2024

jensonbutton

liked by formulaone, yrossibutton, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, dahliabishop and 788.988 others

jensonbutton longest pitstop ever.

charles_leclerc ferrari could say that

lewishamilton congrats to my favorite godson, both of your parents are world champion

sebastianbettel congratulations J and Yoyo, you'll be amazing parents.

dahliabishop this child will be surrounded by 3 different sports, make the beats of witch one they'll choose

jeremyrossi tennis, obviously, they uncle have 12 grand slams under the belt

maxverstappen1 they godson have 17 world championships

yrossibutton what kinda of math is that

maxverstappen1 i have 3, lewis have 8, charles has 3, sebs 4, so...

priyacaspari each of us have 3 gold olympic medals, 1 world championship, 3 club world championships and god know how manny leagues

january 14, 2025

yrossibutton

liked by mercedesamgf1, formulaone, lewishamilton, jensonbutton, vnl, priyacaspari, dahliabishop and 989.087 others

yrossibutton welcome to the team elise rose rossi-button, know that whatever tennis, volleyball or formula one you choose you be forever loved.

jensonbutton im the most lucky man in the world.

lewishamilton welcome little lis, we already love you more than you know

priyacaspari youll be an amazing outside hitter, i know that

jeremyrossi i just know youll break all the records

maxverstappen1 next redbull driver

charles_leclerc no

yrossibutton LOL not a chance

jensonbutton kids... no fighting (she's not choosing ferrari)

charles_leclerc i won with ferrari, 3 times ok?

maxverstappen1 after 5 years of suffering, she doesn't deserve this fate

july 14, 2025

i didn't liked this one at first but at the end i still don't know if i do but i hope you enjoy it

xoxo

#jenson button #formula one #f1 imagine #volleyball #jenson button imagine #social media au #formula one social media au #charles leclerc #max verstappen

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