#this is why little me gave up on wanting to be a journalist

[zooone]

me asf realizing i missed out on the wilbur christmas fic deadline

#okay whos ready for a new years fic!!! #jk ill probably miss that deadline too #this is why little me gave up on wanting to be a journalist #talking

[mirohlayo]

YOUR PRECIOUS ATTENTION | LN4

( lando doesn't like when you give your attention to someone else, when all he wants is to be with you )

warning : fluff, some jealousy

word count : 2.7k

!! english not my first language !!

you greet acquaintances as you walk and try to find your way in the paddock. you walk towards the McLaren garage and then your eyes search for your boyfriend. shortly after, you find him next to oscar and some engineers. they're talking and have serious faces. you want to greet them (lando actually) but you decide to not intrude their conversation because it looks serious and important, probably about the qualifications. so you wait. a little long. maybe a little too long. lando doesn't seem to have noticed you. well actually you arrived 30 minutes earlier than expected and that's why lando have no idea that you are here, waiting for him.

so you keep waiting. and waiting. time passes and now you've been waiting for 20 minutes. you know very well that the conversation was going to last a little longer, races are really important for lando and his team because it's their jobs. so instead of wasting your time and wait for him, you decide to take a walk inside the paddock, because as time passed you got bored.

a lot of people are present of course. engineers, journalists, racing teams, staff and the drivers' friends and family. but now you're used to that crowd. you're dating lando for quite a while now and attending almost all his races enabled you to be comfortable with this environment and atmosphere. and actually you really enjoy it. being able to meet new people, having funny conversations with them, the stressful feeling of races and qualifications, happiness when the racing team does a good job. you know that you're a very lucky person to have access to all of that.

you keep walking slowly, observing here and there around the paddock. then you find hamilton, saying goodbye to some guys and he notices you right after. you smile at him as he walks towards you, smiling back to you. he stops himself in front of you.

- nice to see you here y/n ! he says with a great smile.

- nice to see you too lewis ! you answered.

- why you're taking a walk alone ? he frowns a bit and then raises his brows like he found something. your boyfriend is too occupied right ?

you laugh and nod.

- yeah, looks like he was having a serious conversation with the engineers, i didn't want to intrude. but it's okay, i enjoy walking alone around the paddock.

- would you like to walk with me a bit then ? i've finished checking things with my team and i'm not gonna lie i need some distraction, he adresses to you a big smile.

part of you want to decline your friend's offer but you remember lando is still in the mclaren garage and if you join him now he'd probably be still here talking, not having time for you. and it's been a while since you last spoke with lewis.

- okay, let's go. but just for like 10 minutes, otherwise lando will wonder where i am and search for me all around the paddock, you say in a grin.

- don't worry, i won't take up too much of his girlfriend's time, he joked.

you guys start to walk slowly, enjoying the presence of each other. lewis is actually a good friend of you. well it's thanks to him that you're now lando's girlfriend. you're one of his closest friend, you know him for some years now. one day, he asked you to come to watch him pilot. you said that you didn't have the time, too busy with your job. he had to beg you and made you free up time to come over and watch a grand prix. finally, you gave up and went a sunday to the race. and you don't regret coming that day, because it's when you met for the first time lando. and now he's your boyfriend. lewis really deserves an appreciation for that.

- when i think that at the beginning you were a supporter of Mercedes, he grin and look down at your mclaren hoodie. the number 4 was on the back of it.

- guess tastes change, you answered playfully.

- especially not because of one particular boy, he's now giving you a implicit look.

- oh please shut up, you say in a smile and hit his shoulder.

he laugh at you. sometimes you forget lewis can be very teasing when he wants.

- but it's okay, i like lando. especially because he got me rid of an irritating girl, he jokes and can't hide his vicious smile.

- you lewis !! you give him a blow in the ribs and  shoot a black look. you try to bite back a smile but his laugh and teasing can't help it.

- i'm not going to remind you that roscoe loves me more than you, you tease him. and well, it's the truth.

- don't even try to continue on this topic. you know it breaks my heart y/n, he says and place his hand over his heart like he was hurt.

- so dramatic, you laugh and roll your eyes.

you can't deny it but your teasing game with lewis is something that you really like. you missed these interactions with your friend. and so does he.

you both are so into your teasing game that you don't even realizes you're now in front of the mclaren paddock. and what you also didn't noticed was how lando is looking at you two.

he finished his checking conversation with the engineers and oscar not so long ago. he thought that you were already in the garage waiting for him. but how suprised he was when he found out you were not here. first, he thought you were just in the toilets, or in his drivers room. so he calmed down a bit and went to his room. but you were not here too. then he started looking for you, searching everywhere until he finds you here in front of him, laughing and joking with hamilton. you look happy, looking at him with a playful look and smile, slapping his arm and then shoot him back a black look trying not to burst out laughing at the dumb things he says.

lando can't help but felt his heart tightens. the way you are just having a fun time with lewis, laughing like it is the funniest moment of your life, your hand touching his shoulder so that you don't lose your balance because you have this habit of almost falling to the ground when you're laughing to hard. and that usually happens when you are with lando, when he makes you laugh because oh he loves the sound of your laugh and your big smile, especially when he's the reason of it. but seeing you in this exact state with his driver friend instead of him, he just doesn't like that at all. yeah, he hates it. and he also feel guilty about it. he likes hamilton because he's his friend, but above all because it's thanks to him that you're his girlfriend.

he feel like he has no right to feel like that, because originally you are a friend of hamilton and he met you after him, when you were already one of his closest friends. if lewis didn't bring you that sunday, lando wouldn't be bere to be yours. but he also can't stand seeing you being so close to him, like it's just the two of you against the world. he just wants to be the only one for you, to be the only one that make you smile and laugh like that. just him and you. just you giving him all your attention. maybe he was just a bit insecure.

he sigh and take a deep breath. then he walks towards you two. he stop himself behind you and in front of the other driver and you are still laughing like kids until lewis notices him.

- looks like the prince if finally here for his princess, lewis says earning a grin from lando.

- yes, i come to save her, he reply in a grin but with an annoying tone, that he hopes you haven't heard. it comes harsher than he wanted.

- i am a troublemaker or something ? lewis joked and tease his friend.

- of course you are, you're always bothering me when lando is not here ! you say, still teasing him.

- oh stop i already know you loves him so much and would rather be with him than me in any situations, the mercedes driver give a playful look to the mclaren driver while saying this to you.

- of course, he's lando norris. how can i not love him ? you reply softly.

lando feel his heart lights. he can't help but smile at your sweet words. you look so in love with him it just makes lando so so happy. he drop his gaze on you and you give him a big smile, the one he cherishes with all of his heart. he wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to his body.

- oh please don't do that in front of me, lewis says and act like he was disgusted, just to tease and bother you.

- not my fault if you don't have someone to hug, you reply, defending you and your boyfriend.

- yes it is, he reply back to back.

- no, it is not.

and like that you guys keep arguing about why lewis never hugs people and that he's maybe in need of affection. and lando was just there, trying to follow the debate.

you are just giving almost all of your attention to hamilton instead of him. and lando just hates that. he just want to run away from you and eclipse himself for the whole day, distancing himself from you until you give him your divine attention. maybe he is childish for thinking like that, but he just feels so jealous right now. for him, lewis is just stealing his girl. he should be the one debating with her, not the one who is here on the side and just standing like a bot. he is getting more jealous and angry. and he doesn't like that.

so, instead of just explodes in front of you two, he try to get your attention by squishing your hand, or your waist. reaching his hand to replace a strand of hair on your face, pull the sleeve of your hoodie, randomly kissing quickly your cheeks or the back of your hand. he just keeps touching you gently and softly and each time you look up at him and give him some bit of attention he feels relieve and happiness fills his body. but not a second later you're back talking and laughing with lewis. and then he can't stand it anymore.

he walks away from you and left you here with hamilton, not even daring to look back. he feels like an idiot for his shit behavior towards you and his mate but he gets sick by just seeing you so close with an another man than him. he knows damn well jealousy is not something good in a relationship, but he's so done. he is so annoyed and irritated by what happened that he completely forgot he has the qualifying. he enter the mclaren garage in a virulent way, and some people notice it, oscar being one of them.

- hey mate, you look like you're going to kill someone, oscar joked as he comes closer to the driver.

- maybe because that's what's going to happen, lando reply in a irritating tone.

oscar get silent for a moment and frown. he examines lando's expression.

- what happened ? he asked cautiously, not wanting to make things getting worse.

- nothing, don't worry, lando reply coldly.

- you're sure ?

lando turn to face his teammate and calm down a bit. he sigh and pat his shoulder to reassure him.

- yeah, just some silly things i think about. he pause for a second and then he gives him a determined look. let's do our best for the qualifying mate !

oscar smiles and nod his head, even though he's still worried about his friend statement.

and then, the qualifying takes place.

----

you're now waiting for your boyfriend in his drivers room. you know something bad happened, or maybe you did something wrong but the way your lover just left you in the middle of the paddock like an abandoned child makes you worrying about him. he looked angry, furious and frustrated because his walk wast fast and he didn't even look back. you want to know and understand why he reacts like that.

the race just finish some minutes ago, and lando will come soon into his driver room to dropped some stuff out as usual.

and then the door opens. you meet his eyes, and they're a lot of different emotions in it when he realizes that you're here. you stand up and guide yourself to him.

- lan, you whisper softly.

you try to approach him but he moves and take a step back. you're hurt.

- can we talk about what happened please ? i know something bother you.

he lift up his head to meet your gaze. and he didn't expect to see your hurt expression on your face. now he feels even more guilty than during the race. because yes, he regretted his behavior and how childish he was towards you when he was on the track. he couldn't concentrate fully on the race because of you and his shit actions. and now seeing you in this state makes him want to kiss you and hold you tight. his heart is crying.

- yeah, sure.

- why did you walk away like that ? something happened i know it, you start.

he avoid your gaze and start playing with his fingers. he's nervous. he does not want to reveal that he was so jealous of lewis because you would think he's such a kid and immature. a moment of silence fill the air. you notice that he looks nervous, so you try to help him.

- it is because of me ? you ask gently.

- not really, he answers still not looking at you.

- lando tell me what's wrong. i want to know because i'm confused and i don't want you to keep things to yourself. you can talk to me baby.

- i'm so sorry love, he says. then the second later, you're in his strong arms. he pulls you very close to his body and hide his face in your neck. so so sorry. i didn't intend to hurt you.

you sigh and gently rub his back.

- i'm not. just tell me how you feel lan. i promise i already forgave you, just tell me about your feelings please.

he goes silent for a minute, keeping you close to him.

- it's just... i didn't like the way the two of you interacted later. you were laughing a lot because of lewis and you kept making jokes with him. and i felt like you were ignoring me and enjoyed more his presence than mine. i don't like when you're close to an other man. i want you just for myself. i know this is selfish and childish because originally you're one of his closest friend but you were giving all of your attention to him instead of me. i was huh... jealous.

you move a bit away just to look at his face. you can see how guilty and hurt he is, like he was begging your pardon through his eyes. this picture breaks your heart in two. sometimes you feel like you don't deserve him.

- ohh my sweet boy... i understand how you feel. you have the right to feel like that. i was having fun with lewis because it's been a long time since we last saw each other and i didn't even think that it could have affected you so much. i'm so sorry love... so sorry. you know i also want to keep you all to myself.

- we're quits i guess.

you laugh softly and hug him. his hands rub your back slowly.

- i just want your precious attention y/n, lando says close to your lips.

- now you'll have it lando, you reply in a grin.

he smiles wide and pulls you closer. god he just loves you so so much, it sometimes hurts. he leans in and kisses you, squeezing your waist as you cup his face in your hands.

and you'll never leave his side, giving him all your attention for the rest of the day. and the rest of the week-end.

#lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 fluff #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine

[sunny44]

Ruin it

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: SMUT, cuss words, cheating and probably other things.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Next chapter

Max Verstappen.

We certainly had our moments.

Max and I used to race in go-karts together with Charles, Pierre, Alex and a few other drivers from the current grid and he hated the fact that I always beat him.

Which means he hated me too.

Over the years our fights became teasing and a huge sexual tension that we both realized but pretended we didn't since Max was with Kelly and for obvious reasons she didn't like me either.

Over time I realized that karting was just a hobby that I enjoyed so I didn't invest in a racing career and went into journalism becoming a formula 1 reporter.

We were in Vegas for the first Grand Prix in the city and I was very excited, especially as today it could be decided between Max and Charles who would be the world champion.

The cars were lined up in their positions and when the red lights went out the chaos started, at the first lap we lost George, Magnussen, Piastri and Ocon.

On lap 34 Charles takes Max's position taking first place and me as a reporter who can't have favorites follow me too much not to celebrate in front of everyone.

Charles was my friend and I really wanted him to win but I think I wanted Max to lose much more.

But unfortunately in the end Max passed Charles and became 3 times world champion.

The podium was fast, the champagne looked great and now I was here doing the interviews with the drivers and finally my arch enemy appears.

"Well Max we can say it was a great day for you today."

"Absolutely, we were flying."

"How does it feel to have become Formula 1 world champion for the third time?"

"I'm very happy, this result means that all the hard work team and I have put in over the year has not been in vain and now I'm looking forward to having a drink and celebrating."

"That's great, hope you have an amazing night and we see you next year." He smiles and waves leaving."Well guys that was 3 time world champion Max Verstappen, I'm

Y/n y/l/n and we end our 2023 season, see you next year."

They turn off the camera and I thank the whole team and pick up my things leaving when someone calls out to me.

"I could almost see the look of disgust on your face, lucky it's only me."

"Don't you have a party to go to?" I ask turning around and seeing Max.

"We do and it's at the Plaza, your name is on the list in case you want to go."

"And why would I go?"

"To celebrate that I won."

"I wasn't rooting for you to win."

"I know, and you have no idea how much that motivated me to win." He says stepping close to me. "I'm counting on you being there."

"Your girlfriend doesn't mind you being here trying to convince me to come to your little party?"

"She's not the boss of me and she didn't come to the race."

"Got it, I hope you have a bad night." I say walking out and just hear him yell one back.

...

I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling with a lot of boredom thinking about the party Max had invited me to. Obviously I didn't want to go somewhere where he was but staying here in the room alone while I could be there drinking and having fun was also not an option.

So I got ready and asked for an Uber to the place where the party was going to be, I gave my name at the entrance and they said I was in the VIP area which I wouldn't go because obviously there would be few people and Max would be one of them.

I went to the bar to get something to drink and I felt a presence behind me and when I turned around to see who it was I saw only his chest and I looked up and Max was there with those damn blue eyes that I could spend the day looking at.

"I thought you said you weren't coming."

"Yeah but I was lying naked in my hotel bed with nothing to do so I thought a free drink wouldn't be a bad idea."

"I have lots of ideas of what you could have done naked in your hotel bed." He says coming closer.

"And are you in any of them?"

"Maybe."

"Then put it out of your mind because as far as I know you're committed to miss I’m dating an f1 champion."

"Imagining is not cheating as far as I know."

"If you say so." I downed my drink and looked at him. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go dance and maybe find someone to take me back to my hotel room."

…

The party was great and I was sweaty from dancing, I went to get a drink of water and saw Daniel coming towards me.

"Can I ask you a favor?" He says taking a deep breath after seemingly circling the whole party looking for me.

"Sure."

"Can you take Max back to the hotel? I already tried but he said he won't leave unless he goes with you."

"Fucking hell." I say following him and see Max drunkenly calling my name.

"There you are." He gets up and almost goes but I hold him back. "Where have you been all party?"

"Having fun far away from you."

"Ouch." He runs his hand over my face, taking away the hair that was there. "Wow, you're so beautiful."

"Thanks, let's go."

After a lot of effort we managed to get to the hotel, I couldn't find his room keys and Max muttered something about them being with Daniel so I took his hand and we walked to my room, he was already much better since the city traffic was crazy and took us an hour to get here, he was still a little altered but he knew what he was doing.

"Are you going to let me sleep in your room?"

"Well I'm not going to go chasing someone to get another key to your room and I'm not going to let you leave like that either so it looks like we don't have any other option."

That said I go to get my pajamas but when I went to pass he put his hands around my waist and put his face close to mine.

"You're beautiful you know that right?"

"You already said that, like a while ago."

"I know but I wanted to say it again." I hated it when he looked me straight in the eye because I couldn't look away from those damn blue eyes.

"I hate it when you stare at me."

"Why?"

"Because I hate that I can't stop looking into your eyes."

"Good, because I don't want you to stop looking at them." He comes even closer. "Do you even know how hard I'm trying not to ruin my relationship right now?"

"Ruin it." I say without even thinking.

"What?" he asks shocked.

"I said ruin it."

Max and I start kissing and at the same time his tongue enters my mouth, it was a wild kiss that I could not separate even if I wanted to.

We walk without separating the kiss to the bed where he lays me down and gets on top of me.

One of his hands was on my face and my hands pass through his back going to the hem of his shirt trying to take it off.

He understands my gesture and takes off his shirt and he stops for a few seconds and just stares at me before taking off my blouse and starts kissing down to my neck and my breast.

I lift my back from the bed for him to open my bra and Max wastes no time in starting to suck my breast making me squirm on the bed.

He goes down the kisses to my belly and with his hands squeezes my breasts, he kisses my pussy still covered with the thin lace of my black pantries and soon removes all my clothes leaving me completely naked.

He kisses my thighs and starts massaging my clit with his fingertips making me moan and soon I feel his tongue on my pussy making quick movements.

He stared at me and the exchange of glances was what was making the environment even hotter than it already was.

I raise my hips giving him access to all my pussy and he holds my hips and leaves a strong grip on my ass, then he sticks two fingers inside my pussy without cutting the movement of his mouth.

"Fuck." I grumble trying to hold back my moans. "Keep doing it like that, that's how I want it."

He adds a third finger and I can't control any more moans, they are getting louder and louder.

I feel my legs starting to shake, signaling that I'm going to come at any moment.

I warn him and he intensifies his movements until I reach my limit.

He swallows my cum and continues in my pussy until he starts kissing my whole body, leaving some hickeys on my breast and going to my neck and reaching my ear.

"I knew one day I would make you scream my name in the middle of the night." he bites my lobe and kisses my mouth again.

I take off the bottom of his clothes, also leaving him naked, and switch our positions getting on top of him.

I sit on his lap and start to make a delicious friction in our intimacies hearing a muffled moan from the blond and his cock getting more and more bigger.

He holds my neck tight and makes me lie completely on top of him while he attacks my lips.

I stop the kiss and make a trail of kisses down his neck leaving some hickeys on the way until I reach his cock and kiss the tip.

When I was about to start sucking his cock, Max holds my hair tightly and starts making the movements himself making me choke a few times, his moans were getting louder and louder when he increases the movements and cums in my mouth.

I don't usually swallow, but this time I did it without thinking twice.

"How about you sitting on my face?" I walk over to him and sit on his face.

I hold onto the headboard, making back and forth movements while he sucks me and holds my breasts tight while I go up and down doing all the work while his tongue remains still.

He stops sucking me and I sit back on his lap as he looks at me, seeming to have an idea.

"I want to fuck you in a different way." he says in his sexy voice. "Face the window, I want everyone to see that you're mine tonight."

I do as he asks thanking that my room is on the second to last floor because they would never be able to see that it's the two of us.

"Good girl, now I'm going to fuck you, but you choose." He grabs my neck. "Do you want it tender or do you want a fuck with all the positions we can handle?"

"Fuck me hard, make me yours." I try to turn towards him but he won't let me.

"Your wish is my command schatz." he begins to fit his cock in my intimacy.

At that time I didn't care about anything, I didn't care that it was him, I didn't care that we were having sex let alone that he had a girlfriend that he was cheating on right now.

Soon he begins to give strong strokes in and out of me holding my neck with one hand as he squeezes my breast with de other.

He gets out of me and turns me over, putting my back against the window and grabbing my legs with his arms and fitting his member into me again in a strong and aggressive way.

The thrusts continue stronger and stronger and the only noises we hear in the room is our bodies colliding and heavy breathing.

We try to hold back our moans but every exit and entry inside me makes me want to scream his name.

I pull him into a kiss and he bites my bottom lip and still kissing me, Max leads me to the bed leaving my back against the mattress and him on top of me fucking me like it's the last thing he would do.

The last thing we would ever do.

Due to lack of air we stop the kiss and my hands go to his back leaving several scratches, I see him staring at me while I call his name.

I announce my apex to him who is also reaching his.

When I reach my limit and he continues inside me going faster and faster making me scream for him until he comes.

He gets out of me and I change position to doggy and he leaves a slap on my ass, entering me again and going slowly to torture me, until he increases the speed.

He squeezes my breasts and massages my nipple.

He pulls out of me and lies down pulling me to sit on his lap.

I fit his member inside me and start to ride slowly while he squeezes my waist and I start to move up and down when taking his member out of me, until we cum again and I fall tired on his chest.

He leaves a kiss on my forehead and keeps messing with my hair without changing position.

After a while of caresses between the two of us, we left and went straight to the bathroom, he discarded the condom while I went into the shower but he came after, I was on my back to him when he takes my wet hair off my neck and starts kissing him all over and turns me to him starting to kiss my mouth leaning me against the wall while the hot water falls on both of us.

He goes down and leaves a hickey in the middle of my breasts and goes down the kisses and penetrates me with three fingers, I put my hand on my mouth to contain the moans while he fucks me once again.

Soon he leaves a kiss on my pussy and goes back up making a trail of kisses through my body and he lifts my left leg and fucks me mercilessly.

With each thrust he says how beautiful I am and what a wonderful woman I was.

He bites my ear and my nipple in a pleasurable way, while his hands are on my ass.

He squeezes and moans softly in my ear, until together we reach our limit.

We shower together while he washes my hair and I do the same with him.

Leaving the shower, Max put on his underwear and I took his blouse and my panties and put them on too.

When we lay down he pulled me on top of him and soon he was asleep but I kept thinking about how we would react tomorrow morning after we recounted the conscience of our deeds, but honestly I wasn't going to lose my sleep thinking about it now, it was already done and I decided that tomorrow I would worry about it.

This is probably going to have more parts so let me know if you want to be tagged in the next ones.

#max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #f1 instagram au #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen edit #max verstappen au #max verstappen angst #max verstappen series #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanart #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen blurb #max Verstappen Drabble #red bull formula 1 #red bull racing #red bull max #red bull honda #red bull f1 #red bull team #f1 2023 #f1 x reader

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario [part two]

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to the second installment of this scenario, featuring Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 who helped me write this finale.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this series will be taken down.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive back into the cutthroat world of publishing.

Part One

The press conference went as expected. 

Everyone wanted to know who accused best-selling author Abigail Crowley of plagiarism, where is the evidence to prove that an unidentified individual is the one who really wrote The Darkness and The Nightingale, and why are the representatives of the publishing company are now just finding out about it less than a month before its release date. Yandere!Literary Agent is good at his job, at least when it comes to standing in front of flashing cameras and phones shoved in his face, asking for a statement. He answered the journalists who patiently raised their hands and disregarded the ones who kept interrupting with asinine questions that had nothing to do with the subject of the press conference whatsoever. Yes, he had been contacted by the true writer. No, he will not give out a name to respect their privacy. Yes, there is evidence and it will be presented to a judge, should Abigail Crowley wishes to take Sailboat Publishing House to court and fight back against the claims. No, the printing date will not be changed. He is currently with the writer on revisions and he will not take any more questions at this time. Please speak to the company’s PR representative, Ms. Isley, for a formal interview. That is it for today. 

The world now knows the truth. Social media was going to be a proverbial shitstorm; one side will defend Abigail Crowley and say she is the true author as she is still a great writer, and there will be people who speak trash to her out of spite for whatever reason. Some will even try to track you down online and harass you for days on end. Yandere!Literary Agent just hoped that you meant what you said about not being online anymore because of politics. 

In any case, the projected million copies to be sold would have to decrease significantly. You told him over the phone that you didn’t mind, commenting that at least 100,000 should be a tidy enough number and he would still get his commission. He didn't have to worry about the fees since Abigail is going to pay for those, or fight back. That was the ultimatum Yandere!Literary Agent and the board members gave it to her almost a week ago. 

It was six-thirty in the evening when he told you about what had happened. He was still in the office finishing up a few things, and he had you on speaker mode while he typed away at his desk. You were typing too, working on the revisions and thanking the universe that you had a digital copy of your manuscript on file too, so the task he had given you made things a little easier. So did taking two weeks off of work. But the way you saw it, the PTO either had to be used now, or it wouldn’t be rolled over because you had too much PTO. Yes, that can definitely happen in your career field because you need the hours to pay for bills and essentially being alive. You were making good progress and hoped that you didn’t need to pull another all-nighter just to finish up these edits on page 159. 

You were diligent, Yandere!Literary Agent will give you that much. He reminded you of the deadline. You told him to focus on his work, and he’ll have a pristine manuscript in his inbox. Please stop the daily phone calls and text messages, he was putting the pressure on you. This is why you did not want to become an author. 

He contacted you on Friday night about the press conference. The following week, an email titled The Darkness and the Nightingale - final edits popped up as soon he opened his computer on Thursday morning. 

It’s done. Contact me only if there are edits that must absolutely be changed. Going to sleep. Night. 

[First Name]

The manuscript had been sent to him at three o’clock in the morning. You had really cut it close but it was here. The story was finished. He quickly opened up the document. He looked over the edits, compared it to what was written before….and nodded in affirmation. Yes. Yandere!Literary Agent thought as he looked over the words, your words, with a small smile, leaning back against his leather chair. This is a story that will sell. 

Yandere!Literary Agent placed the manuscript on a flash drive, arranged a meeting with the printing companies and sent you three options for the cover art and needed a response as soon as you were able to. All in all, everything had turned out. A week before the release date arrived, The Darkness and The Nightingale were loaded into trucks to be sold in bookstores across the  country.  

One task done. Now to move onto the next project. 

He deleted your contact info. He had no reason to keep it, at least on his phone. Email was enough. Sure enough, another client sent him a pitch for a new trilogy that would act as the prequel to the original ones that were already popular with young adults, and Yandere!Literary Agent dove head first into it. He hadn’t realized that a month had passed since The Darkness and The Nightingale had been published. This is what usually happens when he concentrates solely on one client. A bad habit, yes, but as he has mentioned beforehand, he is good at his job. 

No news yet in regards to Abigail Crowley, the plagiarism issue was dying down in favor of a startlet’s drug overdose, and there was a meeting on Monday to discuss sales. Another win-win for Yulian Prescott, the man who had single-handedly saved the company from going under. But on Friday afternoon, Yandere!Literary Agent received an email from the printing companies and PR department, concerning the sales of your book. Flummoxed, and a little worried that the number of copies unsold outweighed what was printed, he opened the email. 

He blinked. And then blinked again before removing his glasses, giving them a good cleaning and placing them back onto his face. He re-read the email again, his eyes growing wider and wider. This wasn’t about copies that weren’t sold….it was a request from five hundred different printing companies to print your book. The demand wasn’t isolated to the States. There were demands from all over the world! 

Unlocking his phone, he swiped over to TikTok, searched for Booktok and looked at the trending topics. There were reels, memes, and reactions about your book. There were people quoting about your book, reenactments of certain scenes, before and after reactions, etc. Of course there were some who didn’t believe that you wrote it, thinking you stole it from Abigail, but that was beside the point. 

Your first book had taken the world by storm, and he hadn’t even considered this possibility because it has only happened a few times with Sailboat Publishing. He should have negotiated a higher number of books with you! But that was then, this is now. 

He quickly opened a new message on his email, attaching the email he had gotten, inquiring you to see what he has seen and if you would allow more copies to be published. His schedule is open, so please answer when you get a chance.  He received an email from you a few hours later, stating the following:

 I work twelve hour shifts on weekdays and only have weekends to get my life together. Why do we need to discuss numbers? I already received the advanced copy. Were you trying to send an attachment? It didn’t go through. Wi-Fi was down until now. 

[First Name]

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately responded, asking if you would like to meet up later today if that was possible. You said that you were still out running a few errands, but could meet him at Sally’s Diner or a Starbucks.  Both places were located halfway between his office and your home, at least the ones you knew about. If he wasn’t at work today, where else did he want to meet? You don’t want to travel too far, and you’d like to take a nap before it gets too late in the day. He had to fight off the smile that was threatening to stretch across his mouth. Cheeky. He thought. He already had a light lunch, but he wasn’t opposed to getting a mid-afternoon pickup. When he offered to pay for your drink and a pastry of your choice, you responded that you would meet him there in an hour. 

It gave plenty of time to gather what he needed to speak to you about the current situation. 

He met you outside of the building at the allotted time, enjoying a light breeze before following you inside, holding the door open for you and a mother-daughter duo exiting with Strawberry Acai Refreshers in their hands. 

Once the orders were placed under his name, Yandere!Literary Agent led you to the back of the cafe and sat down at one of the small tables. You followed suit, hooking the straps of your backpack on the back of your chair.  “Did you read the attachment?” He asked. 

You nodded. “I did. But….you’re absolutely sure the numbers are right, the ones you’ve shown me? Because if this is your idea of a joke, I swear to God -”

Yulian held up a hand in the air, stopping you from saying anything else.

"Believe me I thought the same thing when I first opened it, but this is no joke, [First Name]. Publishing companies from around the world have reached out, requesting mass publications in at least fifteen different languages, at the moment. And according to the PR team, more keep coming. Your work has gone global, [First Name], and more people are wanting to read it." 

You looked at him in utter disbelief, leaning back against the chair with wide [Eye Color] orbs. Before you could ask him any more questions, the barista called out for Yulian. 

Yandere!Literary Agent stood up, collecting the drinks and pastry and returning to his seat. Placing them down on the table, he gave yours, and put his black coffee to the side so that he could boot up his laptop. He pulled up the reprint requests so you could see it for yourself. The proof that you are a successful writer. You stared at the screen for a moment until you glanced back up at him.

“Why is it so successful? I thought the reason we agreed on a small number of copies to be printed was because of the plagiarism scandal. There’s been nothing on the news about it lately, or about Abigail.” 

Yulian smiled. “Because you are a brilliant writer. While we did agree on a small account of copies to be printed, there’s high praise on social media. Everyone is clamoring to read it, hence why the demand is greater than anyone could have anticipated, myself included.” He folded his hands together, elbows pressing against the table. “Now, regarding the…situation with Ms. Crowley, the legal team still has the materials you had shown to me; the receipts from Etsy, the Google Docs, they all have timestamps. So even if she wishes to take it to court, no one can deny that she did indeed steal your work because you created this masterpiece while she was working on another series. And before you say anything, your personal information has and will not be released.”

You nodded slowly at his words, your shoulders dropping in relief before reaching for your beverage, taking a languid sip from the cup. Then another, obviously relishing the effect of caffeine giving your body that much needed energy boost. Yandere! Literary Agent knew the feeling all too well. 

“Now, how many copies will you allow us to reprint?”

“What are the fees that will come with doing this kind of job?” You fired back. “If there is a global demand like you say there is, then someone will need to translate it. Not to mention there are different cover designs, marketing, all of that fun stuff. Will the royalties, if I am to receive any, be deducted to cover the cost? I do not want to get myself into any more debt that I already have.”

Yandere!Literary Agent pulled out his laptop from his messenger bag, pulling up the spreadsheets that the publishing and financing departments had created earlier in the week. The information included fees for translating, reprinting,  and international shipping based on demand. On the very bottom of the last spreadsheet would be your net income. 

He had no doubt that this amount of money would allow you to be debt-free and live comfortably…at least until you could write another book. Then he saw the confusion, panic, excitement and anxiety swirling in your irises. The mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Yandere!Literary Agent had seen that stupefied look more than once. It was the expression of someone who had not expected to receive such a big paycheck, at least until he had kindly explained that there were some fees which needed to be paid, which would be deducted from the royalties. With you, it seemed like he did not have to hold your hand and explain how the business of publishing went, word for word. 

Which is why he was quite surprised to see you suddenly standing up, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “Where are you going?” He asked, watching you push in the chair.

“I’m leaving.”

“But you still haven’t decided on a number of copies for us to reprint!”

“I’m sorry, but I am not liking where this conversation is headed. As I mentioned before, I write for fun. This isn’t about the money, and I have no desire whatsoever to be your next cash cow.  Can’t you decide on a number and call it a day?”

“Not without your consent! That would be in direct violation of our contract, and you wouldn’t be paid for the reprinted copies!” He exclaimed. Yes, he knew that he was acting a bit…childish, but this is a serious matter! How could you even think of walking away from a one-in-a-million opportunity like this? Or even believe that he would use your writing to embellish the company’s reputation further by being the sole representative of an extremely popular, best-selling writer?

Because in the darkest corner of his mind, a nasty voice would gleefully agree with your accusations. This was nothing personal, it was a business. And he would go where there was talent, and money. Not to mention elevate his status even further as a high-in-demand literary agent for one of the biggest publishing companies in the States. 

You raised an eyebrow at him, then leaned forward, putting your hands on the back of the chair.

“Mister Prescott, for a minute, please pretend I am not a client and explain in layman’s terms, why would I be paid for that? As far as I was concerned, once the book is out of my hands, it is your responsibility and how the printing is handled. Or am I wrong?” 

A client. That’s right….you weren’t a client. You were just a hobbyist writer who had your work stolen by one of his clients. But you were still a writer, someone who could create worlds while working godawful shifts back-to-back. So he spoke plainly to you.

While you were not officially his client, your work was still part of Sailboat Publishing, therefore it is his responsibility to ensure that the royalties matched the time and effort you had put in creating The Darkness and The Nightingale. Yes, he had to make sure the quality of the book’s printing were high quality and not a hackneyed rush job just to keep up with the demand. 

Then he said he would be delighted if he could be your official representative…in the near future.

You shook your head. “No need for that. You returned my story to me. After we decide on numbers, I’d say your business with me is done.”

“You don’t want to be an author on the New York Times’ Bestseller List.” It was more of a statement than a question. So why did his heart drop into the pit of his stomach at the thought of never seeing you again once you walk out of the door?

“I’m pretty sure you have more than enough clients to keep yourself busy for a long time.” You said dryly. “You’d drive yourself crazy if you worked with me.”

“And how do you know that it won’t work out?” He challenged you with a small smile. You just gave him an ‘are-you-shitting-me’ frown before releasing a low sigh.

“I still have six more months left on my contract with the hospital. I can’t just quit or I risk having to pay back everything as compensation for breaching it before the end of the contract. I wouldn’t be able to do anything related to the book, like tours and interviews until…sometime next year? No, more like the beginning of next year, like around February. I am starting to outline the concept of another idea I have for a book, a standalone, but I only write on my days off or when I’m on my lunch break. Are you fine with waiting until I send you a query letter and the first fifty pages until next February? Is that too long for your liking?”

Yandere! Literary Agent was not bothered by this proposition. If anything, it worked out perfectly with his schedule. And there is the prospect of you becoming his official client. However, he did not want to push your boundaries any more than he already has for today. Instead, he said that it was fine with him. 

“If you agree to us printing more copies of The Darkness and The Nightingale, then we’ll be all set until next year. Do you want to use the same cover worldwide, or do you want us to come up with some alternative covers for different countries, and send you the designs you like?”

“...Alternative.” You said, pulling back the chair and sitting back down, backpack plopped into the adjacent seat. “Do you have any artists that you recommend, or have portfolios I could look at?”

Decisions were discussed within the next hour, and Yandere!Literary Agent was satisfied with leaving Starbucks with an idea of what his Monday morning is going to look like. But what satisfied him more was the number of copies that he and you agreed on. Fifty-thousand, in each language. 

It was enough to make his heart quicken with excitement. 

Or is he anticipating the momentous day when you signed a contract with Sailboat Publishing and he became your literary agent? Six months might seem like a long time….but he prided himself on being a patient man. 

Knowing he will be the best damned agent for you, because you deserve nothing less, and much more.  

Knowing he will be the only one to read your WIPS, help you become a better writer, protect you from the paparazzi and anyone else who would dare to try to covet you like a trophy. 

Knowing that in the end, all you will have is him. And he will have you, whether you like it or not. 

If Abigail Crowley keeps trying to contact him, pleading that she wasn’t wrong and that she did have a new idea for a book so please read her emails she’s been sending please give her one more chance don’t ruin her life please…he might have to do something about it. 

Noisy dogs need to be fed, right?

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

Taglist

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#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #yandere #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere! literary agent #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive love #tw manipulation #cw manipulation

[fangirlfrom-hell]

How Many Detectives Are Needed To Sleep A Baby? || Jay Halstead x reader!

Cute and fluffy Jay, wife and baby + babysitter detectives

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly delated my blog 🫠

Summary: Intelligence unit takes care of Jay's newborn baby while he and his wife are in court. Turns out it is the most difficult case they have worked on.

-"You can't go in there". Platt muttered in a scolding tone to Adam, who wanted to go into the coffee room.

-"Why not?" He asked strangely.

-"Shhhhhh". Kim gave him a punch on his arm. -"Keep it quiet, you're gonna wake her up".

-"Ok, alright". Ruzek kept his voice low. -"What the hell is going on, girls?"

-"Halstead's baby is sleeping in there. Don't you dare to interrupt her sweet dreams, bro". Kevin said from his desk.

-"Look at her. You can see her smile even from here". Hailey said, peeking through the window.

Trudy and Kim followed her.

-"She's so lucky she didn't get her father's mad face". The Sergeant enquired.

-"What do you think she's dreaming about? She looks so peaceful".

-"What's going on? Where's Jay? Where's her mom? What is she doing here all alone?" Adam was losing it, increasing his voice volume once more.

-"She's not alone. We're taking care of her!". Hailey frowned.

-"Adam, please". Voigh silently got out of his office and rushed towards him whispering. -"Would you keep it down? I can hear your voice even with my door closed. Let the baby rest, she's only weeks old and already has seen too much".

The detective opened his arms in a defeated gesture. He had just arrived and didn't understand anything.

-"Y/N is testifying right now, we couldn't avoid it. She and her colleagues published the investigation under their names, so...I couldn't stop it. Jay is by her side. The baby is here for protection".

-"She really is a hell of a journalist". Upton mentioned with admiration.

-"And a very brave woman. We owe her a lot in this case". Hank stated.

-"You know? You would have known about this if you had arrived in time to work". Burgess teases Adam.

-"Is there any news about the trial?" Platt wanted to know, worried about you.

-"Not yet, but Jay said he'll be in touch". The boss stated. -"You know these trials take time".

They weren't conscious about it, but the whole Intelligence squad looked hilarious talking with whispers and walking in tiptoes as they went back to their workplaces.

Time passed and the girl was still sleeping safe and sound, until Adam decided to stand up to stretch a bit and stumbled with some cables on the floor. Naturally, the clatter woke up the little baby.

-"It had to be you, right?" Kim mocked her husband as she helped him stand up.

Hailey and Kevin ran to the coffee room as if they were running a race. It was him who got there first and held the baby girl.

-"There, there. Uncle Kev is right here". He tried to reassure her. -"I had siblings and took care of them when they were babies. I can manage another one".

But after a few minutes, she was still uncontrollable.

-"Ok, it's my turn". Burgess got into the game and took the baby off his partner's arms. -"I'm the only mom here, the only one who has a real daughter. I know how to do it".

-"What are you talking about?" Trudy Platt laughed. -"Makayla was already a grown up when you adopted her!" And she grabbed the baby to accommodate her in her chest. But the crying did not stop.

-"Oh, no. What are they doing to you, sweetie?" Upton grabbed her and laid her in her arms. -"I am her godmother, she knows me better".

The baby Halstead slowed down her crying, but she was still restless.

-"Well, how many detectives do you need to sleep a baby, hum? You don't know anything". Hank Voight gasped. -"Give her to me, I'll show you all". But as soon as she was in the arms of the boss, her crying increased. -"Oh. I've lost touch!"

Jay and Y/N were already at the bullpen, waiting in the stairs. They got in time to witness the fluffy scene.

-"Hey, guys? She's not a rag doll, you know?" Jay said laughing at the scene and his friends turned around with surprise. -"She just needs her daddy's arms''. He took his daughter to stroke her and almost immediately she calmed down.

-"That's not fair". Platt crossed her arms.

-"We brought you coffee". You smiled, leaving the box you were carrying on one of the desks. -"There's not enough caffeine when you take care of a newborn. There's one for each of you, just as each of you like it. Look for your name in the tags".

-"Geez, thanks!" Adam said gladly and balanced the table. -"I was denied entrance to the coffee room the whole morning".

-"I'm sorry". You turned red.

-"Don't listen to him". A chorus of detectives said.

-"She's really calm, it was no problem". Kevin asserted and everyone else agreed.

You approached your husband and as soon as you were in your daughter's sight, the baby started to smile and giggle, throwing little kicks into the air.

-"What? Why are you laughing so much, baby?" You raised your hands and freed Jay's arms. -"Come with mommy, sweetie".

Everyone stared at the scene with tenderness, especially Kim, whose eyes started watering.

-"You wanna hold her?"

She just nodded and took the opportunity.

-"How was the trial? Are you alright?" Platt inquiered.

-"Yeah, I mean it was really scary, but I think it went fine". Y/N hands started to shake a little bit, but she was fast enough to hide them in her pockets. Nobody noticed, except for Jay.

-"She did a great job". He hugged you by the waist, trying to secretly ease you.

-"I have no doubt about it, she already showed us how much of a badass she is". Hank smirked.

-"I will just be more comfortable if you stay in here at least until the Jury deliberates, or as soon as I can go home with you. It's just a precaution, I'm not being paranoid or something".

-"Yes, I agree". Voight followed the idea.

-"Sure. Whatever you think is better".

The baby yawned and stretched herself so adorably, that she caught everyone's attention again.

-"I should put her down to sleep".

-"Alright. Take my seat, Y/N. We don't know how much we're staying here". Jay pointed out.

-"C'me on, Kim. Give the baby back to her mommy".

-"If you need help with the baby or you get bored of these people around, I'll be downstairs". The desk Sergeant winked at you and you smiled back at her back.

-"She won't be bored. She has me here". Hailey pulled a face.

-"I'll take provisions just in case the little one takes the coffee room again". Ruzek rushed to the kitchen.

Everyone else rolled their eyes in a funny way.

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #Jay Halstead #Jay Halstead x reader #Jay halstead x Y/N #Jay Halstead imagine #Jay Halstead one shot #Jay Halstead x you #Trudy Platt #Hank Voight #Adam Ruzek #Kim Burgess #kevin atwater #One chicago #One chicago one shot #Jay Halsted x daughter #Jailey Upton

[adventuringblind]

If You Don't Want the Truth, then Don't Ask

Oscar Piastri x Autistic!Reader

Genre: fluff

Request: kinda...? People want more of this content, so who am I to deny them? My requests are open! Please don't hesitate to send me ideas!

Summary: One thing that Oscar loves most about her is that she's always honest. Unfortunately, it seems not everyone has learned that.

Warnings: Media being toxic, the reader gets frustrated at not understanding human behavior

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

Oscar had fallen in love with her honesty. He never had to guess at her opinions on things or dance around subjects himself.

It was a reprieve from always being coached in media to finally not having to filter himself.

Anyone who had gotten close to her knew one rule she had: if you don't want an honest answer, then don't ask.

She struggles communicating with vocal tones. People often mistake her opinion for being judgemental. It makes her feel unable to speak up for herself. It was never her intention to cause problems. She was just saying her truth.

Emotional communication is even more difficult. She always manages to say the wrong thing. Oscar didn't believe this and felt comforted when she talked him through the truth of the day. But if she was struggling with words and emotions, she opted to communicate via physical touch.

She'd developed a code for human behaviors she didn't quite understand.

When charles was upset about a race, she hugged him. When Oscar was smiling, she kissed his cheek. When Max was being lectured by his father, she stuck her middle finger up at Jos. When Lando couldn't eat his food, she gave him one of her snacks that he also liked.

It became more natural to the grid the more she did these things.

Unfortunately for the fans and the media, they hadn't figured it out. It was ridiculous in everyone's minds how they never learned their lesson.

A picture started circling the internet once of her kissing Lando's cheek after an amazing race. She knew it was a happy moment but was too overwhelmed to deal with words. Oscar knew she did this to anyone she was comfortable with and knew she was loyal. She'd expressed repeatedly why she loved him and not Lando. Oscar only laughed as she went down her very pointed list of reasons why Oscar was better. Earning a pout from the Brit.

The fans started calling her all sorts of nasty names. It hurt her a little, but Oscar even more. He'd expressed multiple times to his fans not to involve her in drama.

Race weekend got a bit awkward. Journalists wanted to ask the two questions. Oscar was quick to deny them attention and left for free practice.

The nerospicy femal, however, was not as lucky. Somone found her hiding in the garage.

"Are you aware of the photo going around social media right now?" The female reporter asked her.

She hesitated for a moment, trying to find her voice. "Yes." The reporter waited a minute for her to elaborate only to receive silence.

She clears her throat. "Do you have any thoughts about it? Are the rumors true?"

She stares again for a moment. "I think you people are bored and want to pick apart someone else's life instead of your own."

It was the reporters turn to stay in silence. "That may be true for some." She fumbles. "But the concern of the fans is that you'll have a negative effect on the McLaren racing drivers."

"I think the fans you speak of are niave then. Not every human being is the same. I'm in love with Oscar, not Lando, as simple as that. Just because my affection looks different doesn't mean I'm doing anything wrong." The girl shrugs her shoulders. Simply stating a fact of herself.

The reporter leaves in silence. No other words were shared between them.

Oscar saw the article the next day. They were getting ready to head to the track for FP3 and qualifying. "Have you seen this article?" He asked.

"No, what article?" Oscar flips his phone to her. The reporter from yesterday had written an article about their conversation. Interestingly enough, it was exactly what she had said. The journalist was impressed with her honesty and approach to toxic rumors.

Oscar kissed her cheek. "I'm so proud of you."

~

The next time it happened was during an interview in the fan zone. She'd been standing off to the side with the other McLaren staff who follow them around. She likes listening to the fans ask the boys questions.

Then a fan asked a question about her. "Oscar, why is your girlfriend mean to the reporters?"

Both Oscar and Lando rolled their eyes. "She's here right now if you want an honest answer." Oscar smirked.

It was terrifying when Oscar and Lando were waving her up to the stage. She waited for the approval of the staff and security before exchanging seats with the Australian.

He looked so please she was up there. "The fans want to know why you're so 'mean' to the reporters, as they put it." The two boys were laughing hysterically now.

"I personally don't think it's mean. If they don't want an honest answer, then they shouldn't be asking questions." She shrugged. "Is there a specific time you're referring too?"

"When the vouge journalists asked if you were hiding something because you wear loose clothing."

Lando perked up instantly. "This is one of my favorite moments. We went out and got her favorite dinner after this to celebrate."

"Firtly, the reporter had no business asking that. I don't like it when my clothes feel weird and I was already overwhelmed so I wore what I thought was comfortable." Oscar put his arm around her. A hint of pride edging its way across his features. "Secondly, the didn't put the whole story. The reporter asked if I was pregnant, and then when I said no, he proceeded to ask me if I was wearing anything underneath."

"The comeback is the best part."

"I was confused why he asked me this, so I asked if he had anything underneath the hideous mask he was wearing. Then he called me rude." She frowned, but the fans were enjoying the story.

Oscar glances at Lando. "You should tell the next part."

Lando is still chuckling from the last statement. "I was coming around the corner and heard her say that, then I couldn't stop laughing. So obviously I joined in as well."

The other two were shaking their heads at Lando in exasperation as he continued. "When I came up next to her, she asked why he would ask something like that. It's a pretty common question between us, so I explained why he did it and why he shouldn't do it."

"Then he insulted him some more."

Oscar finishes out the story and also laughs at this point. "Most of the things in the article were what Lando said. The others were what she did say. Including asking if this was his way of flirting and turned him down on his advances."

She always missed social cues, and she'd heard some of the drivers flirt by asking what someone had on underneath their clothing. It was a genuine assumption.

Oscar found it most amusing as Lando recounted the story for the first time that evening. She had looked mildly dazed, frustrated, and confused. Oscar took the time, in between laughing, to explain some of the nuances she didn't understand. Including why they were laughing so hard.

~

Next came a conversation with Zak.

The boys were doing media things, so he'd started to try and make conversation with her.

He was a person who did not understand that she's autistic and communicates different then he was expecting. Normally, Oscar or Lando was here to help things flow, but now she was going to need to swim on her own.

"Have you been enjoying Monaco?" He asked.

She played with her fingers to help her brain stay present. Something she often did to stim when she didn't want it to be noticeable. "It's cozy when it's not race weekend. I think the race has made it crowded."

He looked a little surprised. "Do you not like crowds? I thought you did since you come to most of the races."

"Seeing them is fine. Being trapped in them is difficult."

"That's a little odd of a perspective, don't you think?" He laughed. "I feel like you either enjoy the crowds or you hate them."

She didn't understand what he meant by that. Didn't she just say what she thought? Why was he asking the same question? "Factually, I think you can enjoy seeing a crowd, like on TV, and also become claustrophobic when in one."

He didn't know how to respond. The staring became awkward for him as he tried to respond. She just waited. Assuming he had now understood her point. Then he came up with an excuse as to why he needed to duck out of the conversation.

Zak asked Oscar about it later. To which the Australian internally face-palmed. Then, he proceeded to explain the unspoken role.

Zak apologized the next day if he made her uncomfortable. She just looked between him and Oscar. Hoping for an answer as to how he could've done that.

It took a while, but they finally got their. Now Zak goes to her if he ever wants an honest opinion on something.

~

The most recent time actually hurt her. She spent days inside her and Oscar's room. Struggling to eat, sleep, and communicate.

She was lucky that Oscar was around to help her through this. His frustration almost overwhelming his own mind.

Two weeks ago, they had been in Silverstone. It was an amazing race, and she felt happy that she got to share it with him.

She had been making friends with the other WAG's around the paddock. So when Oscar was pulled away, she went to find someone to hang out with until they finished.

She found Kika and Lily in the Williams hospitality. It was warm in the building, so when she sat down with them, she decided to get comfortable and took off her sweatshirt.

Her shirt that day was not the usual baggy t-shirt and jeans. Today's she was wearing a crop-top that showed her stomach, but she felt cute and confident, and Oscar complimented her on it the entire morning. He said she looked good when she's comfortable and that's what matters to him.

Her body was not the ideal body type that meets the standard beauty criteria. Frankly, she didn't care.

She's healthy. She's comfortable. Oscar has said daily that he loves her as she is.

She wasn't expecting the fans in hospitality to ask her anything about it.

When she got up to get water, a few young women approached her. This had happened before, and she assumed they wanted to ask about Oscar or know of they could get a picture with him.

She assumed wrong.

"How come you're not wearing what you normally do?"

"Because I felt comfortable in this today."

"I think the other style suits you better. Don't you think?"

"I don't have a style. This is just comfortable."

"Is this because Oscar likes it better?"

"No, he likes it when I'm comfortable."

She was trying to keep up. All the questions flying at her rapidly. The music was reverberating off the wall. The hospitality staff were cleaning and packing.

Her head started to spin. Her hands flew up to cover her ears. She was going to cry if she didn't get out.

She was thankful the Kika and Lily noticed and got her out of the area. Blocking anyone from speaking to her and ignoring those who tried to stop them.

They ran into Oscar on the way to somewhere quiet. He immediately placed his hands over hers to try and help block out more sound until he could get her to her headphones.

Kika and Lily explained what happened. The females asking her questions were not understanding why she was giving them the same answer. Their intentions were unknown, but it was obvious she looked uncomfortable and cornered in that moment.

So he led her away into his driver room and told her she could lock the door and he'd come get her when it was time to leave. She obliged, turning off the lights to help her senses.

She curled up in the corner and soothed herself until Oscar came back.

Someone had taken a video of the encounter, and people started asking questions about her. Why does she do the things she does? It didn't make any sense to them. It made her frustrated because they made her out to be an alien on her own planet.

Her body couldn't take it anymore. She stayed in her corner with the lights off and shut out the world.

Except for Oscar. He sat in the dark with her. They ate meals on the floor. He helped her bathe in the dark. She felt so lucky to have found someone who understands and cares as much as he does.

His PR team was trying to do something about the video. It wasn't right for it to be posted, and McLaren was doing what they could, but It wasn't enough.

So Oscar took matters into his own hands. He decided to answer all their questions. With her permission, of course.

She cried when she read it. He was happy that she felt safe enough with him to let herself unmask, but he wanted her to be able to unmask anywhere. They were taking a step in the right direction, and they both ate comfort food that night.

Instagram story message because idk how people do SMAU's: "I want to take a minute to address the video that was posted about my girlfriend recently. My girlfriend is Autistic, meaning that things can become overwhelming easily. You might not understand everything she does, but you don't have to. She is her own person and has her own life. What she answers to questions is her truth. If you don't want an honest answer, don't ask the question.

-Oscar

#x reader #fanficion #f1 fic #formula one #angst #formula 1 #racing #max verstappen #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #piastri #lando norris f1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #mclaren f1 #mclaren racing #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #op81 #ln4 #oscar piastri x Autistic reader #autistic #autism

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

melusines say the darndest things

Even after successfully hiding your relationship to the eyes of Fontaine's people sometimes children melusines can have loose lips and accidentally say a bit too much and cause misunderstandings

Wc: 1.2k

Cw: reader gets called mom by Ngen but treated as GN/ they/them, melusine causes a pretty big misunderstanding, ideas of having children (unspecified if pregnancy or adoption)

“Good morning, mister barista” a small Melusine calls from behind the cupboard, the little green girl tiptoes so her eyes could be seen.

“Morning Ngen, chocolate milk?” The kind man asks as he does everyday, and already knowing the answer he starts heating the milk.

“ Yep, thanks” she hops towards a table and keeps seated while kicking her feet waiting for her milk.

Soon after Arouet came with a tall glass with a little bit of foam on top and grated chocolate over “Here is your milk, do you want something to eat?”

“No, thank you” she smiles at him, making him beam, “but can I ask something?” She asks softly.

“Of course, what is it?”

“What is a mom and a dad? When I go play on the playground ladies always ask where are my mom and dad” she pouts

At the question his blood runs cold “ uhm, a mom is someone who takes care of you and comforts you when you feel scared and a dad is someone you know can protect you from anything and spoils you rotten?” The forty year old man never thought much about that but attempts to summarize it with his own experiences.

“ Oh! Then I do have a mom and a dad!” Her small eyes shine

“ Really? Good for you”

“ Yep! That makes Dr. YN my mom and Monsieur Neuvillette my dad! So that is why they sleep in the same bed then!” She clasps her fin like hands together as if she just figured out the answer to a riddle.

The base chatter that always swarmed the cafe and gave it its characteristic liveliness fell silent, the different tables all were interested in what the Melusine said.

The journalists found a fresh scoop that could be exploited for months on end, amdeven if the noblewomen would spread the information around their circles faster than they can finish editing the news, such a shame the great judge isn't a bachelor any longer but that does allow them and their husbands to try and social climb by associating with his spouse.

On the other hand the salarymen working for the palais mermonia were neither happy nor sad, simply concerned. If their boss had a fight with his lover or decided to take half a day on valentine's day or his anniversary would they have to shoulder the extra work?

“ Oh~ how cute” a pitchy and sickly sweet voice starts speaking at her, a woman with black hair and wearing a noble dress takes a seat next to Ngen “tell me more, shop owner get me a platter of macarons for the sweet girl!”

“ And a portion of madeleines!” The reporter sits on the other chair, leaving him facing the noblewoman with the Melusine on the middle

“I'm not sure… Dr. YN, I mean mom always says too many sweets are bad for you”

“ Don't worry! It's just some cookies for breakfast, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you don't eat dessert at night”

“ Exactly as the woman says, moderation is key”

As the plate with macarons gets settled on the table first the lady pushes it towards the melusine accompanied by her questions “So, tell me what do your mom and dad do? Do they frequent a certain restaurant? Or do they read certains books?-" Before any of the cookies were grabbed the journalists pushes the macarons away with the madeline plate, the colorful sugary dots moving to one of the edges because of the force.

“ At least ask something interesting, when did they get married? How long ago was that?”

“ What is up with those useless questions? How are you even using that information?” The manicured fingers tap methodically against against the glass tables, the noblewomen who were still on the other table started muttering about the scenario

“And for what use would knowing what books they read? Readers of the gossip column need to be started with the base of the gossip, like when and how it started“

Before they can keep bickering Ngen bit on a madeleine before taking another bite of the macaron as she spoke “ I know dad really likes soup at the hotel Debord so that is why mom rented the whole place for a night for next week” the journalist mentally notes the date for later use

“ A special secret dinner? So romantic”

“ Yep, mom said they wanted a private moment when they told dad…” she keeps speaking when suddenly she seems to notice something

“ Told what??”

“ Oh, does that make me a big sister then?”

“Is that another baby set?” Neuville looks at your reflection from the bathroom's mirror, your hands holding a yellow dress with daffodil embroidery and white knit socks

“ It's from Mrs Jonquille” you rub the cotton skirt between your fingers “ it seems to be good quality too”

Neuvillette walks towards you and grabs the socks, inspecting it awestruck. They could barely cover the tips of his fingers, causing you to laugh “ Are human newborns so… tiny?”

When suddenly a howl breaks the silence startling you both and leaving the set on the nightstand

“ I'm sorry, daisy!” Ngen apologizes to the puppy barking at her under her bed

You quickly tell her “Ngen, I told you to be more careful where you walk, daisy is still very little” a soft thumping against the tiles approaches the shared bedroom and a sad melusine hugs your leg

“ I don't want daisy to be mad at me” she whines into your pajamas

“Don't worry, I'm sure she will forgive you” you pat her head softly, messing the green and blue hair “she is just scared because you hurt her, but she truly likes you”

“ because I'm her big sister?”

As she asks that Neuvillette’s eyes dart towards yours, confusion meeting with confusion. The only idea that Neuvillette could conceive of the sudden titles being thrown around was Ngen being jealous of the attention towards the new puppy. Even then he recognizes to himself that he doesn't mind the familiarity and might even enjoy the cozy feeling in his chest.

Holding her in his arms a placid smile on his lips “Yes, Ngen, Daisy loves her big sister” Without her noticing the dog now peeks her head inside the room after hearing her name the puppy sits down at your feet and you hold her to Ngen’s face

“See? She was just scared. Now get ready for bed, it's past your bedtime”

“ Okay~” she quickly jumps out of Neuvillette's arms and the puppy follows after her, her tail playfully waging

A few seconds of silence settle in the room and you walk to the bathroom to brush your teeth

“Why did she suddenly start with the mom and dad thing?”

Neuvillette starts tying his hair back in a braid, his two blue streaks outside of it “ I'm unaware, she still referred to me as ‘monsieur Neuvillette’ when she accompanied me to the Palais mermonia” he sits down on his side of the bed, the white sheets matching his pajamas made of white silk and blue details “I hope it didn't bother you. If it did I apologize, I will talk with her about it tomorrow”

“ I didn't mind, actually. I think kinda sweet, like if she was our daughter”

As he pulls back the blankets he finds the baby dress on your nightstand and stretches over to grab it, the yellow cotton intricately embroidered with a darker stringing the form of daffodils, it was a very delicate work, noticeably even just by touch “it would be a waste for this to go unworn” he mumbles softly

“ It would, wouldn't it” you smile at him from the on suite bathroom

#genshin impact #gi #neuvillete x reader #neuvillete #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin neuvillette #im thinking this as a prologue of 'how the iudex sleeps' but can be read as a stand alone

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The brother’s wingmen

Ron Weasley x reader

Requested by: @technicallyfreephilosopher

You have attracted the attention of Ron, the younger brother of your bosses.

Note: This is a one off fic. If anyone requests a character that is not on the list, I will not write it

A/N: I agreed to write this to set myself a challenge of writing for someone else. I want to start writing for others (those on the list). I incorporated two of my favourite things. Fred Weasley and George Weasley. I'm also sorry that this took so long. My motivation just plummeted. I’m also sorry to the requester who’s username isn’t letting me tag

T/W: Ron not being good with the ladies, Twins acting as wingmen (yikes), Unprotected sex, riding, Ron being dominated a little,

Ron had always been proud of his brothers.

Being related to the best pranksters at Hogwarts was a blessing more than a curse. People knew you and your name was synonymous with mischief (and Ginger hair). Nobody in the family was shocked when Fred and George opened a joke shop, it was the one thing that they were the best at.

The smell of plastic and fresh paint filled the store on the day of the grand opening. There were even journalists with the Daily Prophet to document the opening of a new store in Diagon Alley. Everyone wandered around the shop in awe at the various colours, sights, and smells. Fred and George were as pleased as punch at their blooming business.

Ron found his way to the small shelf of sweets and bartered with his older brothers for a discount, and then trudged to the counter after being charged double. So much for family discount.

Every situation has a good and a bad side. For Ron, the bad bit was being charged double for something that would last him 5 minutes. The good, however, was the cashier. She was stunning.

Ron put the box onto the counter and stared at the woman. His blush was almost as bright as his ginger locks. The cashier rang the item up on the till and smiled at his expression.

Remember the different sides to every situation? A new negative side was that Ron was being watched by his older brothers…

…Who had caught onto his little crush on their employee.

Fred and George were mischievous, and that didn't change when it came to their younger siblings.

Fred slid up to the cashier and gave Ron an evil smirk.

“So Ronny, what do you think of the new store? Everything’s looking pretty good, don't you think?”

George sauntered over to stand next to Ron on the other side of the counter.

“If you want to give anything here a try, you just have to ask”

Ron was mortified. He looked over at you and saw your face. You didn’t know that the twins were implying anything. They were your mischievous bosses, this was natural.

Ron just turned and walked quickly out of the store, leaving behind an oblivious cashier and his annoying older brothers.

____________________________________________

A few days later, Ron came back when you were just finishing work. You noticed him tucked away in the corner, like he was hiding from you.

As if, like magic, one of your employers appeared behind you.

“You know, Ron could really use your help. He wanted to show you something upstairs in the flat”

You were a good employee, and if your boss’s brother wanted something, you were happy to help. Fred called Ron over and whispered something to him about you wanting to show him something upstairs.

So the both of you made your way up to the flat, believing that the other had something to show.

The twins knew what they were doing, that's why they lit some candles and covered the floor with rose petals before telling you to finish up your shift. They would be their brothers wingmen.

But where they saw themselves as Cupids, Ron saw them as winged pests. Both you and Ron were beyond surprised at the romantic display. But it all started to make sense when the front door lock clicked behind you both.

Ron panicked and tried pulling the door, getting angry when he heard his brothers laughing from the other side. Ron pulled his wand out, but then it dawned on him. This was his chance. Maybe he could try and pick up line or two and hope for the best.

He turned back to face you and found you sat on the sofa, a rose petal in your hand. He sat beside you and cleared his throat.

“You know, roses smell pretty, but they don’t smell as good as you do”

His mouth had taken over before his brain could.

“W..What I mean is…you smell great. Not that I know how you smell! You look as good as a rose, but..but better…”

It took him a minute to realise that the reason his words weren’t coming out anymore was because your lips had sealed his. His whole face went as red as the rose petals littering the carpet. His hands found your waist as his lips danced with yours. The longer the kiss went on, the hotter the room seemed.

When you both pulled away for air, your leg was draped over his leg and hand had moved higher up your back to your bra clasp.

In a flash, your hands were fumbling with his belt clasp, surprising Ron with your eagerness. But he didn't mind, he liked that you were taking what you wanted. When his belt was open and his trousers unzipped, he helped you to pull his cock out from his underwear.

You straddled his waist before reaching under your uniform skirt to pull your underwear to the side. Ron spat on his hand and stroked his cock, lubing it up before helping you to sink down onto him, impaling yourself.

Your hand had to cover his mouth to stop the loud moan that left his lips. If his brothers were shrill listening in, they'd have a field day with teasing Ron. You kept your hand over his mouth as you lifted your hips, keeping the pace steady. Ron tried to get you to move faster by squeezing your hips and bucking up into you, but you stopped him.

Every time he tried to take control of you, you took it from him with a manner so sweet it didn't feel like a surrender. Eventually, he gave you the reins and sat back. His hands on your waist to hold you close, not to urge your movements. You kept your bouncing light, as if any harsh movement would break the man beneath you. His breath was hot and heavy against your palm, his cock pulsed inside of you signalling how close he was.

You kept your eyes on his, giving him gentle words through unspoken words. And that's when he let go.

His cum painted your insides while his muffled moans and groans barely escaping from behind your hand. You could hear his whimpers slowly getting louder while you used him to get off. He tried pleading, begging for you to cum to stop the overstimulation that you were putting him through.

Your walls squeezed his cock, causing his eyelids to flutter. Your juices coated his thighs, leaving a sticky reminder of the evening. Your body collapsed onto his, your hand finally leaving his mouth. The air is filled with the sound of heavy panting, until there was a bang at the door from the twins.

“Are you two love birds finished yet?”

Maybe one more round wouldn't hurt.

#ron weasley #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley x you #ron weasley smut #ron weasley fanfiction

[its-time-to-write]

jamie and reader used to date before he went back to his old team and broke reader’s heart 💔 now he’s back and wants reader back ANGST AND FLUFF PLEASEEE

I’ve been thinking about this request since FOREVER so I hope I did it justice!!

wonder what it’d be like

You don’t get paid enough for this shit.

“So you do know Jamie Tartt?” asks some journalist doing some piece on some footballer crap. You don’t know and you don’t care.

“If you’re not going to order anything, I’m going to get my boss and have you removed from the premises,” you reply, undeterred in your mission to wipe down empty tables. Brian loves his coffee shop and is fiercely protective of both his employees and his peaceful atmosphere. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s kicked someone out.

“Well, do you have any comment on the fact that he said you were the love of his life?”

You don’t miss a beat. “No I do not. Can I get you any coffee or should I get Brian?”

The journalist declines both, and is out the door.

Fucking Jamie Tartt. What does he even think he’s doing? How did you even come up in an interview? Was the question, who, Jamie Tartt, is the greatest love of your life?

(You’d find out later that yes, that was the question. The journalist was looking for an answer like “Keeley Jones,” or “Kiera Knightley,” something a little spicy.)

It doesn’t matter, the journalist (you think his name was Trent) is gone and you can go back to making coffee and chatting with the regulars.

—

You should have known that wasn’t the end of it.

God, why can’t you just work in peace? You have enough on your plate, between homework and student loans and the person who’s complaining that their iced coffee is “too cold.” 

You don’t need to add “prick footballer ex-boyfriend,” to the list.

But he seems bound and determined to add himself to your list of things to take care of, with the way he’s following you around as you hand people their orders.

“Trent said you wouldn’t talk to him,” he says.

He takes your silence as license to keep going. “Why didn’t you just take the money? Can’t be making much here.”

Do not let him get to you, you remind yourself. Do not sink to his level.

So you just shrug. “I’m not one of those people who fucks a famous footballer just for the money. Now I’m going to give you the same choice I gave that goddamn reporter: you can get a coffee or you can get. Out.”

So Jamie leaves.

—

It figures that your ex would find some way to make your life hell. Sure, you’ve gotten mostly over him and you have your own life and you’re on your way to becoming an accountant because numbers are fun and numbers don’t break your heart. So of course, now is when he decides to show up and have journalists poking around.

But you refuse to talk about him with anyone. It’s rude, in your opinion. It devalues your old relationship and yourself and you won’t do it.

So instead you stay after hours, going over finances at the café while Brian and his boyfriend chatter softly and try new coffee combinations.

You laugh as they bicker and and sip everything they set before you, grateful that you don’t have to think about the day Jamie got signed to Manchester City and decided that he was too good for you.

Unfortunately, you have to go home at some point, which means you’re wide awake in your bed, flatmates all asleep leaving you to replay that whole terrible day.

—

(He said, “It ain’t gonna work, babe, I’m in the Premier League now and I should be with someone who’s at my same level.”

You said, “Don’t call me babe.”

He said, “Don’t waste any tears over me, I won’t be crying so you shouldn’t either.”

You said, “I sure as hell won’t cry over a heartless dick like you.”

He said, “That’s a heartless Premier League dick to you.”

And that was it. A year-long relationship and four year-long friendship down the tubes.)

—

The article hits the papers and now you’re constantly being harassed by journalists. 

You read it, the part about you. It was written in interview format, with a bolded question and then Jamie’s response. It was like a glimpse into his personal life, who he was outside the pitch.

Jamie, you’ve had an astonishing career at such a young age, and made a name for yourself both on and off the pitch. Your name has been in the tabloids with many famous models and actresses in the few short years you’ve played in the Premier League. So my question is, in the history of your romantic entanglements, who is the absolute love of your life?

In your opinion, it was a long lead-up to a short question. 

Jamie’s response was two words. Your first and last name.

That fucker.

It makes work so bad that you had to hide in the back while Brian tells people to leave.

You apologize profusely once everything’s closed and everyone’s gone. 

“I’ll give you my official notice and everything, and I can still help out with finances if you want,” you say. “I’m- not trying to be annoying, but the extra money would be really helpful while I look for another job.”

Brian shakes his head. “I’m not firing you, kid,” he says. “It’ll die down. And Caleb and I are happy to have you over for dinner if you want to talk about it.”

You’re so relieved and grateful that you hug him.

—

It’s late again. You’re in your kitchen. All three of your flatmates are out and will be gone until the morning, so you have the flat all to yourself. You’ve lit some candles and turned on the soft lights, and are criss-cross on the counter listening to Fleetwood Mac with brownies in the oven.

You allow yourself to think about some of the questions that were thrown at you throughout the day.

How long have you known Jamie Tartt?

When was the last time you spoke?

Are you still friends?

You shake your head. Weird.

There’s a knock at the door. Even weirder. You’re not expecting anyone.

You hop down and pad down the hall, standing on tiptoe to peer through the peephole. It’s Jamie. You make a face, double-check that the door is locked, and turn back to the kitchen. 

“I know you’re there,” Jamie calls through the door. “I can see the light on, and your car’s out front. I just want to talk.”

You’re not going to open the door, but then he calls your name and you’re rooted to the floor.

You open the door just enough so you can look at him, but not enough that he thinks he can come inside.

“I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me other than an apology, especially after the day I’ve had,” you say, more fire in your voice than you remembered you had.

The fire dies when you get a good look at Jamie’s face.

It’s different.

He looks… forlorn, almost?

“I do, I do have an apology,” he says. There’s no malice, no conniving look on his face. 

You say, “Ok,” in a tone so soft that Jamie could almost forget the anger you just held.

“Look,” he begins, but is cut off by your timer beeping in the kitchen. You sigh. 

“I have to get those,” you say. “Can’t burn down the flat. Do you… do you want to come in? Just for a minute.”

Jamie nods and follows you inside, closing the door behind him.

He follows you to the kitchen, close on your heels, where you motion for him to sit while you take out the brownies. 

“Right,” he says once you’re leaning on the counter across from him. “Look- I was a prick. I thought I was fucking special because my right foot was kissed by god. I didn’t know how to fucking handle it so I acted like a prick. And I never said I’m sorry.” He takes a breath. “Keeley’s always talkin’ about accountability, so… here I am. Taking fucking accountability.”

You just look at him.

“I’m not looking for forgiveness,” he hurriedly continues. “Just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you.”

You’re still not talking, so Jamie gets up.

“Right,” he says. “Right. I’m going to leave ya now. Got fucking trainin tomorrow.”

He’s halfway down the hall when he turns and says, “Oh, by the way, I called your uni. Paid the rest of your tuition, gave them some extra in case you decide you want to keep going.” Then he turns around again and actually heads to the door.

For a moment, you’re too shocked to even move but the magnitude of what he just said sinks in.

“OI,” you bellow. Jamie freezes, hand on the door handle. 

“Get. Back here,” you say, voice tight.

“Jamie,” you say once he’s sitting again, “you can’t just pay my student loans. The whole reason I never talk to the press about you is because I don’t want to be like those people who just, like, use you for your money. I had it handled and I don’t need you thinking that I’m just- just- using you. And fuck off with saying that shit in a magazine,” you continue, “You can’t just use me to make yourself more family-friendly. Saying that you like the girl who works in a fucking coffee shop so she can get through school and become an accountant. I mean, what the fuck? Just say it was a model or an actress or something, but don’t use me, because I never used you.”

Jamie shakes his head. “But it’s not like that,” he says earnestly. “I know what you’re like. I know it ain’t about the money. That’s why I said what I said. You really are the love of me life.”

You’re silent, analyzing his face. There’s nothing that indicates he’s lying, and if you can claim to know Jamie at all, you’d have to admit that this might be the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.

All you can manage is a weak, “Oh.”

“I’m really, really sorry.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “you keep saying that. I forgive you. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be friends with you.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, no I get that, yeah. Right. I’m not looking for that. I just needed you to know.”

You’re both silent for an awkward moment.

“Right,” Jamie says again. “Guess I’d better go. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

You nod, letting Jamie see himself out.

—

“So, you’re not taking him back?”

“Brian,” you say, “why the absolute fuck would I do that?”

He laughs. “I don’t know, if I had some handsome, rich young footballer come to me with an apology that I didn’t ask for, I’d’ve snapped him right up!”

“Don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” you warn.

Brian laughs again. “Oh hon, he’s heard me say so much worse.”

You snort then turn back to the column of numbers in front of you. It’s bright and early, thirty minutes before opening. That gives you twenty minutes to finish what you’re doing before sneaking out the back door. You’re scribbling in the margins in blue glitter pen when there’s a knock on the glass door. You frown.

“Who on earth is knocking?” you ask.

Brian shrugs. “No idea,” he replies as he goes to look.

The frown stays affixed to your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Brian just lied.

He’s back a moment later.

“Think these are for you,” he says, arm full of flowers.

You drop your pen.

“What the hell,” you whisper. 

Brian just grins and places them on the table. “A nice young man in a pink tracksuit dropped them off. Said to give them to you and that he’ll have more tomorrow.”

“Fucker,” you hiss.

“Me or him?”

You glare. “Both. Either. I don’t care. Take these home to Caleb or put them around the shop. I’m leaving.”

You shuffle your papers together and flee the coffee shop, door banging behind you.

—

“Twat,” you whisper to no one in particular. 

Jamie’s delivered flowers every day for a week and a half and you’re not sure how he manages it, but he always avoids being caught by you. You’re not sure why he’s delivering them to your place of work, but you have a hunch that somehow, somehow Brian and Caleb are in on it.

It’s fucking annoying, really. They’re so beautiful and in all your favorite colors and you’re absolutely pissed off that he still knows anything personal about you.

You’re even more pissed off that you like it.

I mean, come on, he has your forgiveness; what more does he want?

The worst part is you actually miss him. You miss the Jamie you dated, the one you fell in love with but are not particularly fond of the Jamie who dumped you when he got signed for Man City. What’s to stop him from doing that again?

You decide you’re going to talk to him.

—

Brian brings in a particularly large bunch the next day and you’re on your feet in a flash. You’re out the door before he can ask where you’re going, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows. 

You look up and down the street. You know Jamie couldn’t have gotten far. 

You catch a flash of blonde hair zipping away to your right. 

“TARTT,” you bellow.

The blonde hair freezes as you march up the street.

Jamie turns and grins sheepishly, “Hey, love,” he says.

“Stop bringing me flowers. It’s fucking annoying.”

It might be Jamie’s imagination, but there seems to be slightly less rage in your eyes today.

“Thought you liked that sort of thing,” he says.

“I do,” you say, “usually. When I know why it’s happening. I don’t know why you’re doing it. You already paid my student loans and apologized. I don’t really know what else you want from me.”

“A second chance,” Jamie says promptly. “I weren’t kidding in the article. You can tell me to fuck off right now and I’ll leave you alone. Can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you again, but I can fucking guarantee it won’t be on purpose.”

You’re silent, giving Jamie the tiniest spark of hope.

“Fuck you,” you finally say. Jamie raises an eyebrow as you glare at him. “Fuck you for actually fucking changing. And for making me love you again. You’re all I can fucking think about and it’s been driving me crazy, and Brian’s been no help with all his, ‘you should call him,’ and ‘he seems like a good lad.’ He’s fucking right and I’m fucking mad about it.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asks, “Why don’t you tell me more over dinner tonight? I’ll take you on a proper date.”

You actually smile at him for the first time in ages. “Alright,” you reply, “one date. One. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

Jamie doesn’t care. You’re smiling, which means he’s already won the whole fucking thing. He’s yours again, and he’s not going to fuck it up.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[multifandomfanatic02]

"You didn't know, pt.1"

Pairing: Alastor x fem!OC?? (pulled the name out of a hat honestly)

Warning: mentions of r*pe, detailed murder,

Summary: it was never mentioned as to why Alastor turned to murder. Maybe it could have been because he lost someone important to him? Who knows really?

a/n: I tried my best to stick to Alastor's character and respect his sexuality. If you think this needs any improvement or if you have some kind criticism, please let know! And if this liked enough I'll make a part two! (itsbeentwelveyearssinceihavewrittenanythingpleasebenice)

Spring of 1915

Alastor had been a victim of his mother's matchmaking since he was seventeen. Seven dates have been attempted in 5 years total.

No, he was more focused on his occupation as a writer. What Alastor was truly in love with, the smooth jazz that blessed his ears, to the dancing, the books. He was clearly an art enthusiast. And there was one artist's work he admired more than anything. Lillian Fletcher. She was a high position in a very popular magazine and newspaper. Decided what was trendy and what wasn't. While her job is more in the line of sales, Lillian's colleagues agree to let her put her own articles in them. They get hella cash flow.

Crazy as it is, no one has seen what she looked like. When conferences with celebrities happen, it's like she's there in spirit and the articles just show up in the papers one day. I guess you could say it's what Alastor admired about Lillian, she was obviously a humble woman. Someone who cared about her work as much as he did his. Even more so loved the same things he did.

A special night was approaching, Alastor was going to join the press as a journalist for a conference. Even get to do an interview with the famous guest. It was such a grand occasion, he wore his best suit. A black suit rimmed with red buttons and red seams around the collar and of course a red dress shirt underneath. Took the breath away from most of the women that glanced at him during the little shindig.

"Look at my handsome little man, I'm so proud of you, mon cœur." Alastor's mother beams at him with pride, rubbing her fingers against his cheek. He grabs her hand and guides her to the bar.

"Thanks mama, I'm really glad you get to be here with me tonight. Can't imagine anyone else to spend this night with, I mean that." Her eyes start to swell as tears spill out of them. He chuckles wiping them away with the back of his hand. The lights finally begin to dim and the guest comes out on stage. "It's time mama, I need to join the crowd." Alastor unpockets his pen and pad and walks to the chaos of the press unfolding before him.

2 hours gone by and he gets maybe 3 questions out of him. This guest isn't particularly nice. He's obviously rushing the journalist and being very um.. kind of an asshole with his replies. Then again it was to be expected from this one. It's why he's Alastor first real job after all.

"Can you please answer respectfully for once? Stop being an ass to the people who will write your story one day." Everything goes quiet and all heads turn to the back of the crowd. A woman.

"Who are you to speak to me that way, slut." He says giving her a disdainful expression.

"I apologize sir, I just want to know as to why you treat everyone like garbage."

"Miss.. does your husband know you are here." He scoffs, taken aback by the woman's comment.

"I am not married, sir." Her eyes are stoic, there's no signs of kidding on her face.

"That explains a lot. No one wants a woman with a mouth like that.. anyhow, ma'am I think you are done here. Guards! See to it that this.. woman.. leaves the building." He snaps his fingers calling the guards over.

Everyone in the crowd obviously disgusted by attitude. Who gave her the right to talk to HIM that way. Only one pair of eyes saw her differently than anyone else. Alastor. She was glorious. He has never seen someone so beautiful in AND out like this before. The woman wore a royal blue drop-waist dress made of silk and velvet with beads and tiers. Thick mid length hair pinned up in a bob, in attempt to keep it all in place. Pearls adorned her neck beautifully.

He walked out the building following loosely behind, his hand rubbing the back of his neck briefly.

"Are you alright, miss?" He speaks softly to her, trying to not speak the woman.

"Ah yes, thank you, I apologize for my behavior back there. You didn't have to come after me." She hugs her arms and paces back and forth, irritation clearly visible on her face.

"I believe it was very much needed. He certainly needed to be put in his place. Who better than you." Alastor's lips grew into a soft grin. She stopped pacing finally taking a really good look at him. Handsome, is all she thought. "May I ask for your name?" He bent down grabbing her hand kissing the back of it.

A blush flooded her face from her cheeks to the tips of the ears. "L-Lillian Fletcher... and you are?" He looked up in shock to her response, clearing his throat.

"My name is Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure indeed!" His smile turned into a starstruck expression. "So you are the Lillian Fletcher that works for the magazine?!" She nodded nervously as Alastor struggled to keep his cool. "I love your articles and sales pitches! It's what inspired me to shoot my shot with an actual job in journalism. I've been writing for as long as I can remember."

"I'm so glad to hear that, my job is my everything. I'm very passionate about it." Her hand hovers over her mouth to hide her giggle.

"Say, Ms. Fletcher, would you like to have dinner with me?" He holds out his arm for her to take as she gladly accepts, wrapping her hand around it with a smile.

"Call me Lili."

Summer of 1917

"How do I look, mama?" Lillian looked at her future mother in law, holding back her tears. Her knuckle grazed under her eyes to keep from ruining the makeup. The dress she wore was an ivory colored low v-neck dress full of lace and the sleeves were nothing but loose tassels. The most gorgeous wedding dress you'd have ever seen. Her hair was neatly curled and pinned up, feathered boa wrapped around her back and arms, elbow length silk gloves, a string of pearls around the neck, and finally a flower crown. Never has someone looked so elegant.

Alastors hands ran through his hair pacing around in the dressing room. No way was this perfect day about to happen for him. He never thought that one day he'd be married. Alastor has always kept to himself, never found anyone attractive enough. He believed the romance life wasn't for him. While it's partly true, he surely was in love deeply. However both agreed that they never wanted children. Never thought they needed to have intimacy to have love. It would be the perfect life with their work, passions and each other of course.

"Ooo honey, you are looking handsome. Can't wait for you to see Lillian. She's glowing." She says letting herself into his room. She walks towards and pulls him down by the collar to fix his bow tie. "My baby boy, finally getting married."

"Thank you mama, for everything. I'll be sure to pass on your jambalaya recipe to her." He snickers, getting a whack in the arm from her.

"Don't start with me now, boy, you're never to old for a whoopin. You hear me?"

-----

The wedding has started in the chapel and everyone takes their seats. Alastor already tearing up from the band playing music. His fingers fidgeting with eachother in front of him. His bride in all her glory walking down the aisle as if she was a star in the sky.

They took each other's hands holding their breaths as the priest gets through his speech. The wedding was very simple and short event. Due to both groom and bride's status, it was best to keep it a secret and only allow close family. Meaning Alastor's mom and their pet black cat.. Lucifer.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride." That moment lasted for what felt like forever.

Winter of 1928.

Eleven years have passed, both are 34 years of age and their relationship has nothing but flourished since they were married.

Lillian has retired from her life of writing for the public to devote herself to her husband. It's been peaceful and life has never felt better. Alastor on the other hand was promoted to radio host as soon as they were being sold to consumers. It's one thing to write it all out on paper but another to broadcast his interviews and music live to listeners with similar interests. It was... a thrill to him. He and his wife have became quite the team on radio. She often helps him figure out pitches to his audience to boost it.

"Al dear, don't you think it's time for bed?" Lillian's hands wrapped around his neck and ran down his chest, leaning down enough to place a kiss on his head. "You've been working on next week's interview all day. Time to rest, darling."

He sighs and squeezes her hand before nodding. "Alright mon amour." He stands up dragging his feet to their shared bed, tucking each other in. Lillian stroked his hair in hopes to bring him some comfort. He pulls her into his chest. "I will never love anyone other than you. You are mine for eternity."

-------

"Why haven't you told me about this before?!"

"I just didn't want you to worry about it.. you've got a big show coming up soon."

"Hate to break it to you, darling, but someone stalking you is a lot more important to me than a damn show!" Lillian silenced herself, looking away from Alastor's gaze. "I'm staying home."

"No! You can't! That show is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"

"YOU are my one opportunity! If something happened to you.. I would go Insane." He gripped her shoulders tightly.

"Fine.. Let's make a deal, Al dear. You stay at home all week, but on the day of your show, we take extra precautions to the house and you go. After that you can stay home as much as you want." Lillian says in a serious tone and holds out her hand.

"Deal."

⛧ ⛧ ⛧

The day had finally come and both were feeling nervous. In truth, neither of them wanted Alastor to leave. But with the extra precautions in the house, there was no point in staying home. She was right, this chance will never come again.

The stalker in question had done this sort of thing to several women in the past, many of which had simply gone missing. The ones that were found had been abused and stabbed in the spine causing paralysis, and yes, dead. What a horrific way to die, they both thought. So far there have been 6 victims.

"Are you ready, dear?" Lillian asks helping his coat on. Alastor's expression looking out of place. He was scared and couldn't look her in the eyes, fearing it could be the last time he sees them.

"Are you sure you can't come with me?" He grabs her hand and holds it to his chest. His heart beat a mile a minute.

"You know I'm not allowed there anymore. Or have you forgotten?" She chuckles in attempt to comfort her husband. Obviously not working. Alastor was heartbroken, the only thing he could think of now was to hurry up and get his show done and over with so he can come home. Almost like it wasn't important anymore.

"I've got you a gift." He pulled out a velvet box from his pocket. Lillian took the box and opened it, revealing a locket. 'Mon amour'. She opened it up to see a picture of them on their wedding day. Happy as can be. "No matter what happens know that you are the most important thing in my life." She smiled up at him and gave him a big hug before thanking him. It's beautiful.

"Time to go, my darling." She gives him one last passionate kiss before pushing his butt out the door and locking it. It was cruel to do that however, if it dwelled on it any longer he'd surely break his promise. In reality, she was panicking about being left alone. For good reason...

.

.

.

Alastor's body finally relaxed after 4 hours of his show, it was the most enjoyable one so far. Interviewing the mayor, he was a lot nicer than expected and obviously cared for his people. It wasn't until one of the new journalists came barging in that everything changed.

"Uh oh we've got some breaking news! A new victim of the killer. Our seventh victim is the magazine writer and trend-setter, Lillian Lili?!..." He held his breath as a lump formed in his throat. Immediately getting up, turning on his heels, and hurrying out of the building. His hands were shaking in hopes that she was at the very least still alive. Maybe this was a different situation.

Police and the press had already arrived hours before. Pushing through the crowd, a policeman placed a hand on his chest to keep him at bay.

"Are you Mrs. Lillian's husband?" The policeman asked. Alastor's glared down at the man keeping him away from his wife. "I'm afraid I have to tell you that she was killed. I cannot let you go on further for your own good."

"H-How did this happen.. the house was covered in as many locks as we could find! Wood bolted to the windows and-"

"It was not a break in, sir. He had been living in your cellar for what may have been... a week?." Alastor's color drained from his face. In the cellar? He had locked his wife in there with that criminal?

He pushed past the policeman and ducked under the police tape. No one stopped him in time before he saw the scene unfold in front of him. Just like the other women. She had been assaulted and puddles of blood ran from her back. Alastor drops to his knees and grips his hair, crying hysterically. Something snapped within him. His cries suddenly turned into insane laughter. It appalled everyone. He goes over and picks her up and cradles her lifeless body in his own. The blood staining his clothes.

"You can't do that! This is a crime scene! You can't mess with evidence. It belongs to the police department!" The police officer yelled at him. Alastor said nothing continuing to hold her. He knew what to do..

Winter of 1933

̷̍̇̄̐̂̏͊̒̈́ "Breaking News! We have an update on Paul Benjamin. You know the one serial killer who has had an open case for 20 years. Well.. HE'S DEAD HAHAHAHA!" Alastor beat on his desk laughing before clearing his throat. "I apologize for my outburst, it just about time it happened don't y'all agree?" He said calming down and wiping the tears from his eyes. "I wonder who's next on this antihero's list."

It had been 5 years since Lillian's death. While he is working through the pain, his methods to cope is questionable. Four years ago Alastor had decided he wanted to deal with his wife's murderer himself. A year of following his movements and actions eventually paid off. A new addiction emerged to the surface. How easy it was to pierce human skin, to the screams of misery and pain. It was such an amazing feeling. Why stop there? There are people who deserve the same. Nine monsters.. nine people killed by Alastor's hand. Each deeply researched and carefully chosen.

The walk back home from the studio was peaceful. Nothing could make this night better. Many horrors have been removed from the streets of New Orleans thanks to him. Thankfully he was never suspected in any of them. Alastor was very particularly careful how he handled them. Every single seeming to be an accident or su**ide. To the public, it was almost like a miracle. But to the criminals themselves, they knew. Who was next on this mastermind's list? Paranoia set in to them all.

"Ahh what a day my dear, wish you could be here to see what I've accomplished." His laugh was maniacal. He removed his jacket and put it on the hanger on the door. "You are safe now, my darling. We're getting closer to having a free city of monsters."

"I knew it was you.." a voice whispered to Alastor from behind him, holding a knife to his neck. "The only monster left in this town is you, Al." Alastor stayed quiet and slowly reached for the knife in his vest pocket. "I d-don't want to kill you. I understand why you did it but your wife would not like this. Just submit yourself to the police and I will let you go."

He belted the insane laughter, making the man steadily walk backwards in fear. "Understand? You could never understand." Alastor swiped his finger across the cut on his neck left by the knife, and licking it. "I just enjoy doing it." He swiftly shoved the knife into the man's chest.

"Hmmm.. where to put this one. Ah I got it." Unlike all the others, this one was a surprise bonus to the collection. The only possible place to deal with this one was the forest a few acres behind his home. No one went in due to the stories of crytids and it being haunted. It was perfect.

He grabs the shovel sitting against the treeafter placing the corpse in the hole, filling it up with dirt. Upon hearing voices creeping upon him, he looked over his shoulder briefly just for everything to go dark.

"Uh.. I don't think that was a deer, Bill."

"What?"

Present day in Hell

"Congratulations, your highness. Never doubted you for a second. The hotel is starting to gain attraction. " Alastor bowed to Charlie with his hand on his chest.

"You know damn well you're only here for the entertainment. You even said it was a ridiculous idea." Vaggie tapped her feet and crossing her arms.

"Ah yes well... I apologize. Regardless I'm glad everything worked out this way." He gripped his cane, his static-y voice glitching out a bit.

"Speaking of attraction, don't you think it'd be a good idea to put out more commercials and articles about the hotel. Maybe the sinners will take it seriously this time." Charlie paced back and forth before looking to Alastor.

"Good idea! And I know just the person." The one he referred was a commonly feared overlord. One that could potentially out matched Alastor himself. Maere. The dream demon. His shtick was that he can sneak into nightmares and manipulate humans and sinners to sign away their souls for something as simple as a piece of clothing. A soul for an easily attainable item. Despicable.

All the souls he owns have been known to be abused within his possession. On top of it, he rents them out to customers for whatever they need. Because of his collection of talented souls, he has earned his spot in several companies from technology and fashion to restaurants and sinful services.

Now Alastor does not like dealing with demons like him. He was a murderer but only to those who deserve it or push his buttons. Being acquaintances with Maere was useful at times. In the past he has secretly helped free some of them from the contracts with him. This was not one of those times.

The square of pentagram city, where you will find all the fashion stores and new technology. Anything you may need really, including Maere's headquarters.

"Alastor! Our beloved radio demon. I figured your ass would show up around here at what point, old friend." He rubbed his cigarette between his fingers putting it in the ash tray before standing up to greet him.

"Ah ha ha.. don't call me that. I'm just here to do business." He swiped his dhoulder pad before putting both hands atop his cane. "I'm sure you've heard about princess Charlotte's hotel kicking up attention. I'm here to see if you have any souls that would be perfect in advertising the hotel. Someone who is persuasive and talented with writing."

"Hmmm I may have someone like that. Only if you promise to STOP RELEASING THEM FROM MY CONTRACTS!" He held out his hand in hopes of agreeing on a deal.

"I guess I could.. fine, you've got a deal." He grapped Maere's hand, shaking it. Maere grips his hand and leans closer to Alastor.

"I mean it. You're dead if you do." Alastor's expression stayed composed.

. . . . .

"Let me introduce you to my star saleswoman. She does a lot of the Vees advertisements in tv, newspaper, and magazine. Quite the talented one if I do say so myself. She's good for other things as well if you kbow what I mean." He was quite a cruel 'master'. Every single soul he owned was only allowed to do anything unless they are rented or if he decides to use them. And the way he made sure were restraints on both the face and arms. A metal mask was bolted to behind there heads covering their whole face with matching metal restraints that kept their forearms tight against their backs.

This woman was no different. On the other hand, her clothing was rather elegant. A beautiful evening gown that looked like it'd have been popular in the 1920s. It was a loose-fitting floor length dress that flared at the knees; low v-neck, flowy mesh sleeves. The base of it was red silk while the outside was full of fringe and black lace details. Her hair was black with curls that reached her shoulders, with long ears sticking out the top of her head. Little fluffy tail sticking out the back of her dress, and to top it off were her very long paws. I guess her feet were to big to find shoes for her. A rabbit demon?

"Does this one at the very least have a name?" Alastor questioned Maere. He thought about it before snapping his fingers.

"Ah yes! She is soul 19,281!" He pushed her into Alastor's chest, making her stumble and drop something off around her neck. Maere released her from the restraints letting her scramble for the necklace on the ground. He disappeared letting Alastor do his thing.

"I despise having to do dealings with that demon. Are you alright little lady." Alastor leaned down to grab the necklace for her. A locket? He opened it seeing the inside, having it suddenly be ripped from his hand. It was him and his wife. The two finally gazed up at each other in awe.

"...Lili?"

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #alastor fluff #alastor angst

[padfootagain]

Silly Love

Hello!!! Here we go with a request from an anon for my Comeback Event!! Thank you so much for your request anon! It was such a delight to write!

Here is the request: “AAAAH i'm so excited for this event!!!! I wanted to request Ben Barnes with the Idiots In love trope!! like maybe they do interview together or we spot them publicly and they're so blushing and happy together that they forget to stay low in the public eye !! thank you so much Carole for giving us some fan content i love and appreciate your work so much ❤️”

This is so adorable, honestly…

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: so much fluff your teeth will rot

Summary: you and Ben are giving a series of interviews for a project you’ve filmed together. But as the day goes by, it’s harder and harder for the two of you to remain serious and not act like the two fools in love that you are…

Word count: 3447

There was something in the way you spoke that always felt so reassuring to him.

Ben wasn’t certain of what it was exactly. The sound, the tone, the octave, the rhythm… He didn’t know what it was about your voice that simply… soothed him. He merely had to listen to you, close his eyes, and everything else would disappear.

He remembered the first time he heard it. It was through his TV screen. It didn’t feel the same then. It lacked the gentle imperfections your voice carried in real life. Still, he remembered watching the whole show you were playing in simply to listen to your voice.

One of these magic tricks of yours.

He should have been paying attention to what you were saying, to what the journalist was asking too. But as he stared at you, he simply forgot about anything else in the room but you. He stared at your eyelashes as they moved with each of your small blinking movements. He studied the curve of your nose, the line of your jaw, the colour of your lips. He knew how soft they felt against his. He fought against the sudden urge to simply cradle your neck, turn your head towards him, and kiss you until none of you could breathe…

You turned to him, and he fell into your eyes. Impossible to look away. Impossible to breathe at all. It felt like drowning, but in a wonderful way. Like falling forever and never wanting to hit the ground.

He didn’t even notice the way a dreamy smile formed on his lips. He was resting his chin in his palm, his elbow resting on the wooden armrest of his chair, set right next to yours.

He saw you tilting your head slightly, frowning a little…

He recognized those signs. It meant that you were waiting for an answer to something he had not been listening to…

“Ben? What do you think?” you repeated.

He shook himself, straightening up again, and blushing terribly.

“I… I am terribly sorry. I did not listen to the question,” he apologised, letting out an embarrassed laugh.

You soon joined him, chuckling while the interviewer repeated her question. You hid your embarrassment behind your hands…

You knew perfectly well why Ben had not been listening. He wasn’t paying attention.

You could hear his excuse, he gave it to you every time he wasn’t listening to you.

It’s not my fault if you’re too gorgeous to look at for me to focus on anything else.

And sometimes, you wondered if he truly meant that. Of course, you took it as a charming and flirty excuse. But there were moments when he would just stare at you the way he just did… maybe he was merely gawking at you, for real.

“Well, I was very happy to work with Y/N,” he answered, and you realized that, this time, you had been the one who wasn’t paying attention to the journalist sitting before you. “I had been admiring her work for a while so… huh… I was very curious to learn how she built her character’s presence, how she approached her roles. And it… it turns out that she is also an amazing human being so… I am a very happy man, indeed.”

You struggled to refrain a smile at his words. You knew perfectly well that you made him a happy man because of your blossoming relationship, not because of your talents as an actor.

You noticed the smirk that appeared on his lips, and knew that you were not doing a great job at hiding your emotions. A mix of satisfaction and embarrassment and shyness…

He adored it. He was so proud of himself for making you look like this. You were so adorable then…

You had not made your relationship official. Ben and you were both adamant in keeping your private lives private. Besides, you had met while working on this movie, and you didn’t want your relationship in your real lives to become a tool to promote the film. So, you were both determined to keep your relationship secret, for now.

You had to admit though that sitting next to Ben all day long, in a rather dark room, made it very difficult for you to act like the two of you were mere friends.

“What did you take home with you from set at the end of filming?” the interviewer asked, apparently oblivious of your inner battles.

“I took home some… small things that were on set… I don’t think I should tell you in details,” Ben laughed. “But I have one of my suits. Let’s… let’s say that.”

“What about you, Y/N?”

You thought for a second, but couldn’t stop yourself from answering as honestly as you could.

“Wonderful people.”

Ben and you exchanged a tender smile.

You were both resting your arms on the armrests of your chairs, and Ben used your proximity to brush his pinky finger against yours, ever so slightly, so no one in the room would notice.

The gesture was there though, tender and intimate, and you grinned at each other. Ben was blushing fiercely again.

“How nice!” commented the journalist.

“See? Told you. She’s amazing,” Ben nodded, making you roll your eyes.

“You have such an amazing chemistry on screen. I think it’s one of the biggest charms about this film, to be honest. And it must be hard to navigate through a love story between two characters. How did you manage that? How did you establish this connection?”

Ben cleared his throat and you saw him looking up at the ceiling, looking for a lie.

After all, he couldn’t answer with the truth. He couldn’t answer with: well, we both genuinely fell in love with each other off-screen, so it wasn’t hard to pretend to be madly in love on-screen. No, that couldn’t work…

You wanted to help him, find your own answer, but you were quite taken aback by the question as well. You were thinking about all these long evenings spent together in his apartment, drinking tea, or sometimes whiskey, and talking for hours and hours; failing to notice that the night was flying by. All those mornings laughing with him in make-up. Listening to his sweet voice as he sang on his piano during the weekend. The long walks on Sunday afternoons. And this feeling that kept on growing and growing, but you couldn’t possibly imagine that he felt the same…

And then, the comments of your friends about the two of you. The fact that you had become so close so quickly, that you wanted to spend so much time with him, that you didn’t think about dating anymore. The realization that struck you like a punch in the stomach that you were not having a mere crush, but were falling desperately, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with your co-star. The doubts, the long days spent thinking that he could never feel the same.

Until that Sunday afternoon when he sang this bloody song he had written, and you sat next to him while he played on his piano and… you just couldn’t stop yourself.

Your first kiss. It tasted like sunlight, tea and soft music.

You were brought back to the real world when Ben finally spoke.

“We talked a lot about the most intimate scenes, and the most emotional scenes too. Huh… we… we really wanted to be on the same page, and to be sure that we were both comfortable and able to express in the best way what our characters were feeling. And I think that level of understanding was very important. And… you know just… trusting each other. Huh… and then we simply became very good friends so it made everything pretty easy.”

You couldn’t refrain your tender smile as you stared at him while he spoke. You drank every word. You studied his dark hair you loved messing up with your fingers so much, his short beard you adored against your skin, the angle of his jaw, the corner of these lips you wanted to kiss all the damn time…

You shook yourself, trying to pay attention to the interview again.

“Alright a few fun questions now,” the interviewer said, a smile on her lips. “I’ll ask you some questions and you have to answer with the first thing that comes to your minds, at the same time, on the count of three. Sounds good for you?”

“Sure, sounds fun,” you answered, smiling as well.

“Alright. Tea or coffee? One, two, three…”

“Tea.”

“Coffee.”

You rolled your eyes at Ben’s answer, and he did the same because of you.

“That bloody, tasteless hot water,” you complained.

“I love coffee too.”

“But you prefer tea.”

“I do prefer tea.”

“Very cliché for a Brit.”

“True… I’m not going to try to deny that.”

The two of you exchanged a teasing smile, before focusing on the journalist again, waiting for her next question.

“Your favourite thing about each other. One, two, three…”

“His kindness.”

“Her kindness.”

You both gasped at your matching answers.

“You are extremely kind, like… too kind, honestly. Very patient as well,” you nodded, and Ben was grinning at your words.

It was the kind of radiant smiles that were almost blinding.

“You are way too sweet. And just so… so genuinely nice. In the best way,” Ben added, his grin turning into something softer as he stared at you. “You’re always trying to make sure everyone around you is happy and well. You have a very generous soul. I love that about you.”

“Aww…” you couldn’t help it when you reached for his hand and gave it a tender squeeze.

“Now, what is the thing you dislike the most about each other?” the journalist asked once you were looking at her again. “One, two, three…”

“Nothing.”

“He’s so distracting.”

Ben looked at you in shock while you and the interviewer were laughing so much.

“Wow… I was not expecting that one,” Ben admitted. “I was being so nice to you, I said ‘nothing’! Did you hear that?” he added, turning to the interviewer. “I can’t believe it...”

“You really are so distracting though.”

“I’m very focused when I work,” he argued.

“You have the whole shouting-to-get-into-character thing,” you started, counting on your fingers.

“Oh… yeah… that’s right. I see how that can be quite distracting…” he admitted, and you saw him starting to blush again.

“You’re always in people’s face, or touching me, or hugging me…”

“That’s nice though!”

“It’s nice, but still distracting.”

You raised a third finger.

“And you’re very handsome. It doesn’t help.”

His smile turned tender again, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Thank you, that’s nice.”

“Do you want to change your answer?” the journalist asked Ben with humour.

“I think I’ll say that she’s too honest sometimes.”

You all laughed.

“You never think before speaking,” Ben went on, still laughing. “It’s hilarious.”

“I am hilarious.”

“You truly are. But it gets you into so much trouble sometimes. Do you remember when we were at this restaurant and you thought the couple at the table next to ours were father and daughter?”

You doubled with laughter, hiding your face in your hands.

“That was so embarrassing.”

“You’re so loud…”

“I was tipsy!”

“Drunk. You were full-on drunk.”

“No, I wasn’t! I was very tipsy but I was not drunk.”

“Anyway, you said this so loudly and the look they sent us!”

You were both laughing so much, both of you forgetting all about the interview.

“I just wanted to disappear.”

“You really get us into so much trouble sometimes…”

“But you like it. You would be bored otherwise.”

“Just like I bet you love it when I distract you.”

“That’s quite true.”

You and Ben intertwined your fingers together, holding hands, and Ben brushed tenderly the back of your hand with his thumb. You didn’t think about what the gesture could mean for the rest of the world. You were too busy getting lost in his dark eyes.

The journalist interrupted your thoughts though as she spoke again. You separated your two hands, movements made slow by reluctance.

“What’s the last emoji you sent to the other? One, two, three.”

“Laughing face.”

“Kiss emoji.”

You frowned hard at Ben.

“Your last emoji was a heart, not a laughing f…”

But you saw the look in his eyes and stopped talking.

He was lying on purpose… shoot…

“Yes, you’re right, it was a laughing face,” you lied, but you were pretty certain that you were not convincing.

Ben tried to keep a straight face, but it was difficult.

The interview was (thankfully) over though, so the journalist left, and you bid her a good day with a handshake and a warm smile.

Ben asked for a two-minutes break before welcoming the next interviewer, pretexting that he needed to go to the bathroom, and you followed his lead.

Actually, you found refuge in the deserted staircase of the building, and both exploded with laughter in the empty space, your laughs amplified by their echoes.

“We really need to be more careful, my love,” Ben argued, trying to be more serious again.

“You’re right,” you nodded, letting him wrap his arms around you to draw you closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

“I am not fully innocent either…”

“But that emoji… and I said I sent you a kissing face!”

You buried your face in your hands and rested your forehead against his shoulder. Ben merely laughed.

“I don’t think that was enough to start a rumour about us being together, though,” he reassured you. “But I was right. You really need to learn to think before speaking…”

You swatted him playfully on his upper arm, and he doubled with laughter.

“Now, we should go back. We still have many interviews to give. And no more hand-touching, mister!” you scolded him.

“I can’t help it,” he complained. “Besides, before we go back, I really need to do something first. Something I’ve been dying to do ever since we entered this room, because… you are so beautiful like this, love…”

You gave him a flirtatious smile, knowing perfectly where this conversation was heading.

“And what could that be, honey?”

“This.”

He leaned down to kiss you tenderly on the lips, a hand climbing up your body to rest gently against your cheek, cupping your jaw to guide your face towards his again when you tried to break the kiss. You lost your fingers in his hair, messing with the dark locks, but none of you cared.

Kissing him felt too amazing for you to care about anything but his lips.

“Honey? What are you doing? Hurry up, I want to watch the movie!”

You wore your most annoyed tone, but heard Ben chuckling from the corridor anyway. You couldn’t refrain a smile at the sound, even if you were trying to act like you were annoyed. It was too warm, too reassuring for you to feel anything but happy whenever you heard his laughter.

You rearranged the covers of Ben’s bed, waiting patiently for him to finally join you so you could start watching a cute romantic comedy you had found on Netflix. But he seemed to be taking forever…

He finally appeared, wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers, and you couldn’t help it when you let your gaze roam the length of his body. His hair was dishevelled from the shower he had taken after dinner, and you loved it. He was staring at his phone as he walked in the room, but looked up to catch the sight of you lying there, cosy and warm in his bed.

Best sight on Earth, he reckoned…

He slipped in the bed with you, and you greeted him with a grin and a peck on the lips. But you frowned as he focused on his phone again.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, snuggling in his side as he raised his arm for you to settle in his embrace.

“Yeah, just… was checking on some comments on a couple of interviews we did together the other day, you remember?”

“When it was just the two of us?”

Ben nodded, eyes still fixed on his screen.

His hand was drawing mindless patterns across the small of your back. It was comforting, soothing… it reminded you that he truly was there, by your side.

It had been a few weeks now since you had recorded these interviews, but of course you remembered. It had been proper torture to seat next to Ben all day without being able to touch him, to speak your mind, to remind him that you loved him…

“Sure, what about them?” you asked dropping a kiss on his chest, and you smirked at the sight of the smile that formed on his lips under your touch.

“Well… a couple of friends have warned me that some comments are… quite… accurate…”

You frowned hard, leaning closer to look at his phone, and he turned the screen in your direction so you could read the comments too.

Your eyes grew round.

I bet Ben and Y/N are more than friends… have you seen that chemistry?

The way Ben just gawked at Y/N for two full minutes, not listening to anything she or the interviewer said, is a big mood. Also, they’re in love.

Lol, when they held hands at 6:30, I’m dead, thx!

Not the type to start rumours but… are these two together? Like… irl?! Because they seem like a real couple trying their absolute best to hide how infatuated they are with each other… and failing.

Ben and you exchanged a glance.

“Oh…” you breathed.

“I think we… have blown our cover, love,” Ben joked.

You were afraid he would be mad, but he seemed amused by the situation, more than anything else…

“You’re not panicking? Or annoyed? Or angry?” you carefully asked.

He noticed your wary tone, and looked down at you, before dropping a kiss in your hair.

“No, I don’t care, to be honest.”

“I thought we had decided to keep all this a secret.”

“Yes, well… I don’t mind. I love you, that’s all that matters.”

You tightened your hold on him, making him chuckle.

“I love you too,” you whispered against the skin of his neck, closing your eyes as you deeply breathed in the sugary scents of his soap and shampoo.

“Do you mind terribly that everyone is figuring things out about us?” he asked, and this time he was the one wearing a cautious tone.

“Not really, actually. I thought it would stress me out, but I don’t really care.”

You exchanged a loving smile, and he brushed his nose and his cheek against your forehead, making you heave a content sigh.

“By the way… I want to watch these two full minutes where you are… how did they say that? Oh, yes… gawking at me,” you teased him, a cheeky grin on your lips, while he exploded with laughter.

“I’ve watched it,” he confessed, his eyes tightly closed and his head thrown back in embarrassment, trying to hide from you, but you could still see that he was fiercely blushing. “I’ve watched it and I can’t believe I’ve stared at you like that in public…”

“Is it that bad?”

“Yes, it is.”

“You’re so sweet… so cheesy…”

“Oh, shut up!” he grumbled, making you laugh.

“I want to watch it, give me your phone.”

“Absolutely not!” he protested, extending his arm so the device would remain out of reach.

“Ben! Give it to me!”

“No!”

“I can also just use my own phone…”

“No… no…”

He grabbed you by the waist when you reached for your phone on your bedside table, pulling you towards him and making you both fall on the mattress.

You were both laughing so much by now.

“No! Don’t watch it!”

“If you start tickling me, I swear to God, you will soon be a dead man…”

“I’ll find another way to distract you, that’s alright…”

“Stop kissing me like that…”

“Really? You want me to stop?”

“No… not really…”

“Hmmm… thought so… Y/N!”

“I got the phone! When is it? WHEN IS IT?”

“NOOOO!”

Ben kept on attacking you with waves of kisses and tickles, but you held his phone in hostage, and he ended up losing the war, as you watched the full video together. He expected you to laugh at him, but you didn’t. You simply kissed him hard and tender on the lips, and snuggled into his arms.

It was a happy evening, in a life full of love…

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes oneshot #ben barnes imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

[mrswolffs-blog]

“Is he mine?” Lewis Hamilton x Black!Reader

The last race of the season, Y/n was anticipating the arrival of the last driver for their post-race interviews. She walked from one end of the booth to the next, memorising the questions she had for him while her one-year-old blabbed in her arms.

Lewis was calming the adrenaline from the race, getting himself ready for his very last interview of the year, knowing that his ex-fiancé, which was an entire secret from everyone, was the person waiting to question him.

Y/n walked with her baby, giving him some gentle kisses before handing him off to her co-worker Jenson who took off with him to God knows where before Lewis arrived. Walking up to the booth, Lewis took his time to give her a short once over and a gentle smile; his face showing emotions of regret.

Going through with the interview, Lewis took his time listening and answering her questions sincerely. Almost finished answering a question, Lewis paused when he felt something or someone was using his legs to stabilise itself, he looks down to notice a baby with surprising features that mirrored his own and wearing his merch, giving him an almost toothless grin.

Smiling at the little one, Lewis picked him up rocking from side to side as he spoke to him. “Hi little guy, where’d you run off from huh? Where’s mommy or daddy?” He asked the toddler that was giggling away from the tickles. The baby slowly calmed down but then started getting fussy when he realised his mommy standing on the other side and so he started whining and wiggling to get free.

“Y/n I can’t find- oh thank God, you found him. Little man you have no idea how much trouble you’d put me in if I didn’t find you.” Jenson said breathlessly as he took the toddler from Lewis’ arms, leaving him puzzled for a moment looking between the two journalists. “You just wanted to see mommy, didn’t you? You can’t just go running off sweet boy, you almost gave uncle a heart attack” Jenson reasoned with the toddler who obviously was not focused on him but was stretching towards his mommy.

A big wail erupted from the now frustrated toddler as tears started pouring from his eyes. “Mama!!” The baby boy cried which knocked Y/n out of her trance as she quickly took him from her co-worker’s hands, thanking him for watching him. Fussing about, the toddler started nestling against her chest which signifies that he was hungry.

“I have one last question for you and then you’re free to go” Y/n said to Lewis as she hushed her baby whose head was now nestled in her neck. “I won’t answer that question unless you answer the one I have for you right now” Lewis countered, which had the on looking fans and co-workers silent as they awaited to hear the question and answer as Y/n nodded in fear, already knowing what the question would be. “Is he mine?” Lewis asked, the entire paddock gasping in shock as no one knew anything about Lewis having any relationships after his famous ex.

Y/n's eyes welled with tears as she nodded her head yes, walking off from the booth not bothering to ask her last question, making her way towards the journalism department. With her baby being breastfed beneath the blanket, Y/n made her way out of the department heading for the car park, when Toto blocked her path. Shifting the blanket, not only Toto but the cameras zoomed in to realise that she was feeding the toddler. “Let’s go to my office for a couple of minutes. I want you to speak with Lewis so that the both of you can have some common ground.” Toto explained as he led the crying young woman to the Mercedes motor home.

Upon entering the office, Lewis immediately rose from his seat to hug Y/n’s shaking form, helping her to sit with the now sleeping toddler. “How did you go through this, and I was unaware of it? Why didn’t you tell me? Is he doing okay health wise? Was there any complications or damage?” Lewis asked in a rush as he took his son from her arms while comforting the emotional woman. “It was fine honestly. I took a year off and asked them to tell you that I transferred to Moto GP and even though I struggled, it wasn’t that bad. The labour pain was brutal, almost broke my pelvis but it was a successful birth” Y/n ranted about her experience. “I never told you because that’s the reason you called it quits. You told me you didn’t want to have children at this time, and you wished that I would take even more of extra precautions, but it was already too late and that’s why I kept fighting to say we should have at least one, yet you broke it off and completely expelled me from anything that wasn't work related. I had no choice because you wouldn’t listen whenever I tried to speak to you before or after work, I had to do what was for me” she furthered, every word planted memories into his head as Lewis started a similar wailing as to the one his son did before, over his mistake.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry! I never meant to hurt you this way. If I had known I would’ve stayed, I would’ve been there helping the entire time, I had no idea what was going on with me back then and I have no excuse so I’m apologising, please let me make it right with you?!” Lewis pleaded as he hugged onto his baby and ex-fiancé. “I’m sorry Lew but I can’t grant you that. I can allow you to be in your son’s life and all, but I can’t date you again. I’m seeing someone who had been there since the beginning after you abandoned me, and I really love him. I can’t just up and leave him now that you’re back” Y/n explained making Lewis even more sad at the thought that another man had been caring for his could have been wife and son if not for his stupid mistake that cost him the woman he always wanted. He understood where she was coming from and accepted his faith.

“Thank you for allowing me to be with my son, I promise you that I’ll always be the best father to him. But can I ask a personal question if you agree?” Lewis timidly said to which Y/n nodded for him to go on with it. “Who is it…The guy you’re dating?” He asked, scared for the answer which knocked the air from his lungs when Y/n answered “Fernando Alonso”.

After the talk and planning for co-parenting, Lewis led Y/n towards the door, phone in hand buzzing off hook as every news outlet had known and started posting articles about the baby by now. Toto stood at the computer with George and Mick as Fernando was allowed in to collect the sleeping toddler. “Nice race Lewis, I know that we’ve always been rivals and all, but I promise you that your son and of course his mother is safe with me. I will never go against any rules that you might have for me regarding your son as long as we both agree to respect each other and our boundaries” Fernando explained reaching out the two men shook hands and hugged before Y/n was led away towards Fernando car. Lewis was now left standing alone as reality hit, noting that he had lost what could have been his family due to his foolish mistakes that he was sure to never make again.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fanfic

[sunflower1experiment]

Fool’s gold

~~

I assumed it to be strange, the journalist was a nosy one. Always asking questions, why did I come here, she already knew my background as is: What’s the point of prying further!?

Herbalist; |Name| Praia, It was complicated on my end with the job I had to help the sick with just herbs was different, difficult. Even the black lung plagued the country with its rounds, just feeding people calming herbs to calm the pain wasn’t enough for the inevitable death so I made sure to give them those before passing.

Writing down their signature consent, that way if anyone accused me I could show my proof: yet it never calmed my nerves seeing someone die, and I could not stop it. So I called myself the painless death, people won’t suffer as long as I’m able to calm them down.

But when Norton and I first met it was as if he held respect for me, when even he knew that I loathed myself. He told me, “Life happens, people die. Best to move on.” Such a statement.

As if he was so used to seeing death. My inner self as a child was coming back to haunt me, saying he was right and though I may not have had a bad childhood, sometimes I relish in what my parents said about me. ‘My little herbal remedy!’

Is that why?

I get up weakly, then gasp at the sight. Running towards Alice, she falls forward in my arms and I immediately grab a few herbs, Ashwagandha: scientific name for it but in other cases its used as a powder to wake up from when drinking warm milk or water. She didn’t wake up immediately but showed signs to be conscious.

Looking up to the perpetrator my eyes widen, “Nort….”

My body freezes when the pickaxe flies past me, hitting the dirt but without even thinking about my surroundings I ran. Grasping for whatever reason to not believe it was him, poor Alice she was abruptly taken by me and we’re both stumbling around this curse of a woods.

Suddenly she pushes me back and we both scream as he charges past. Alice gasps would fill my ears while my grunts turn into gasps of horror as Norton hobbles towards me. I get up, backing away to avoid him.

However, when I try to leave the man’s larger hand grabs my face and he leans in. A shaky sigh leaves my lips as he kept all his focus onto me. My breathing starts to falter while he began rubbing his thumb over it slowly.

A raspy chuckle erupts from him when he saw how I react, he presses his lips onto mine. My eyes widen, his iron grip pulling me close as I try to keep the space between us, once we pull back there was a moment of soft breathing.

“You’re the woman that calmed the pain on my eye…” he sets the pickaxe down, hugging me in the process. “How could I not recognize you?”

“Norton, what’s happening?”

He walks me to a mirror in the hut, I look at the mirror in silence until he wraps a hand around my neck and his face came to view. “To you I look scary but to me…you’re normal. And I can’t help but want to chase you..”

We look at each other until he lets my neck go. “Come on.” Following behind him I start to wonder where Alice went…

—

“Woah.” I gasp, then get up. Only to stop when Norton’s soft whines fill my ears, laying back with a relieving smile. My hands reach over absentmindedly and I stroke his head. “It was just a dream, that was very silly of me to be afraid of you my sweet Prospector.”

I gave him a small kiss on the cheek then go back to sleep.

#x black reader #reader is gender neutral #reader is any race #idv norton x reader #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #idv x reader

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

Commission – Bestseller

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

Words: 4,363

Prompt: Sebastian makes a contract with someone who wants to become the world’s bestselling author. This time, however, he's willing to spice things up a little.

Warnings: None.

[ commission me ]

At first, you wanted to shout: “Go to hell!” but quickly found it quite ironic and eventually sat back down, picked your pen up and pretended to be writing something in the notebook, while the only thing that appeared on the blank pages were curly lines. Honestly, you could hardly recall the last time you met someone who’d be as eager to get on your nerves as the man who was now standing in front of you. The smirk on his lips only proved that the whole conversation you just had went according to his sly plan and in the end he was gratified with your outburst of emotions. Not a very common occurrence, he had to add, and therefore even more pleasant to observe.

“My, my”, he shook his head in a disappointed manner, as if he was scolding a child. “I wasn’t aware that this kind of information will have such an impact on you. Could it be that you’ve grown worried?”

“Worried?” You shot him a deathly glare. “I’m not worried. I’m angry and I’m starting to consider which side you are actually on. What made you think that killing (or whatever happened to that journalist) was such a bright idea?”

The demon smiled, the expression on his face clearly amused as the whole situation seemed to be rather entertaining for him. It’s been a long time since he actually gave his new contractor a little push—not to the right side, of course, but rather to watch you struggle and keep the balance as you always did in the end. It was almost as funny as listening to people beg for their lives, while all of them knew that there was no coming back once he was summoned.

“Sebastian,” you hissed his name through the gritted teeth. “Answer me.”

“Well, I must disagree with you on using the term ‘bright’ regarding this little incident.” He pretended to be lost in thoughts, touching his chin and looking at the wall of your office where all the prizes, photographs taken with famous people of literary business and newspaper articles were framed and hung on display for everyone to see what you were capable of when it came to using an imagination and pen. Or keyboard, as it was nowadays. “I’d rather go for ‘enticing’. ‘Compelling’, perhaps. ‘Thrilling’ even. ‘Enjo—”

“That’s enough.” You interrupted his speech, considering it pointless and a waste of your precious time. “I don’t care why you did that, I want you to stop. You’re perfectly aware that I’ve been giving interview after interview for the last two weeks and I’m going to continue doing that no matter what kind of dirty games you decide to play behind my back.”

“How threatening…”

“Moreover,” You pointed a finger at him. “If you keep doing this, I’ll have the right to consider it as acting against the rules of our contract.”

“There was not a single rule included which could prevent me from adding a little spice to the generally boring outcome of events. I thought you were aware of that. Signing books, doing interviews, all of that blown to make your ego grow until it pops.” Sebastian clicked his fingers to highlight the meaning of his words. “Like a bubble.”

“Hilarious.” You couldn’t frown no more even if you tried. “Now let's get back on topic. I forbid you to interrupt my hard work with your silly, little demon games. You’ll have your reward in the end so right now you’re only wasting your own time, because no matter what you do, I simply won’t give up. It can take the next forty years to complete while you’re stuck here with me, it doesn’t matter. So if you want to finish it quickly, I’d recommend you getting out of my way.”

There was a spark of amusement behind the demon’s eyes as he carefully observed you—as if something in your words struck him in a pleasant way. Undoubtedly, he made a good choice while deciding to answer this new contractor.

“That’s exactly what I meant while speaking about the lack of something enticing,” he admitted before turning on his heel and heading out of the office, his fingers intertwined behind his back and the corners of his lips turned upward in an eerie smile.

Pouring rain hitting the windows reminded you of a thousand fingers patting the glass in an unrhythmical manner. Focusing on a single droplet sliding down to the window frame didn’t help you concentrate, especially not with the pleasant silence now filling your bedroom up nor the fact that the last time you allowed yourself to rest was more than nineteen hours ago. Your body was giving you more significant signs of exhaustion with every passing minute and yet, you didn’t want to waste any of your time. Not when you’ve gotten to the perfect plot twist of your upcoming story—the second volume of the world’s bestseller book sold in millions of copies all around the globe. Although your success was guaranteed, you couldn’t simply sit and do nothing while waiting for applause. 

You jolted when the sudden thud hit the glass right next to the desk where you were sitting. It was loud, like a lost pigeon didn’t notice the window and flew into it at full speed but when you stood up to check whether it was hurt, laying somewhere near, it was impossible to notice any sharp shapes in the downpour. Perhaps it flew away or maybe it was just your brain tricking you into finally going to bed. Whatever it was, eventually it made you close the laptop and rub your tired eyes until you saw the stars behind the eyelids—and when you opened them again, you found out that the shadow in the corner of the bedroom is unusually dark compared to the rest. 

Almost as if there was a tall, slim figure standing there, facing the wall, covered in black robes.

Your initial reaction was paralyzing terror. Blood ran down from your face and in the next moment blew in your heart causing your cheeks to immediately heat. You could only sit there, watching the silhouette with unblinking eyes as your mind wanted to scream, to run, to fight, to—

“Sebastian.” The demon’s name left your lips almost involuntarily, just like shouting ‘help!’ came naturally to the drowning man. “I order you to stop this nonsense immediately.”

At first, nothing happened and for a moment you thought that maybe you weren’t even in your bedroom anymore, that the image in front of you was but a photograph glued to your face while the real you was dead, burning and bleeding and shrieking and—

“My, my…” You blinked at the sound of a familiar voice and the shadow from the corner was gone; surprisingly, you could also breathe freely again. “There’s no fun with you…”

Instead of the terrifying derealization, you were once again safe in your bedroom, everything in its own place. By the door, however, stood Sebastian with the same amused smirk on his handsome face, as if it was the only genuine emotion he was actually capable of showing.

“Fun?” You stood up from the chair, your fingers still slightly trembling after the heavy anxiety attack.

“I was worried that you might get some kind of… writer’s block, as they say,” he stated and nodded matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing your spirit.”

Oh, how much you wanted to rip that happy expression off his face. Or maybe slap him. Or both. In all honesty, you could do it by giving him a simple order and yet, it didn’t feel right. What kind of satisfaction would you get from simply forcing him into your own will instead of actually making him feel a certain way? The leash you got him on was rather long, as the demon was almost free to roam around and do as he pleases, and maybe that was why you found those rare moments of his confusion so precious. 

And so, instead of scolding him or making him apologize, you simply decided to say:

“If you’re getting so bored during our contract, perhaps you’d enjoy it if we played fetch for a while? I have a feeling that it might be just your cup of tea.”

He didn’t say anything and yet, you could feel his disapproving stare burning into your back as you walked to the wardrobe. Surprisingly though, the memory of the silhouette in the dark corner still seemed to linger in your memory, although not as a bad one. Instead, you couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just what you were looking for to fill the plot in the next chapter of your book.

“I can’t believe it…” you muttered, raising the menu card higher in front of your face to hide it from the not-so-subtle photographer who was waiting for his perfect shot outside the café. So far, you managed to run inside the building without being filmed and you could call it quite a success considering how tense the situation grew since the latest news got released to the public.

“The greatest author of the decade caught in love!” 

“Who is the mysterious man by her side?”

“Can we expect the next volume to be delayed due to the newfound romance?”

The headlines of newspapers and celebrity gossip websites were screaming at you from every angle—so much that you started to wonder if there would be a journalist jumping out of your own fridge to ask a few questions before lunch. Since the rumor about your romance—yours and Sebastian’s—were fairly new, you still didn’t manage to calm the public with some words of truth and a little sneak peek into your personal love life. Not that it was your intention, it was all but a play, of course. Another necessary step taken to avoid getting accused of the disappearance you certainly had nothing to do with.

Which you couldn’t say about the demon sitting right next to you by the table.

“Me neither,” Sebastian clicked his tongue, while still eyeing the menu. “The prices have surely gone up since the last time I’ve been there. Not that it’s an issue with your budget now, is it?”

If you didn’t know better, you might have believed that the kind smile he put on was sincere. Still, with the amount of knowledge you possessed and the time you wasted on trying to clean up after his mischief, you wanted nothing but to make him regret everything he’s ever said or done. He was the one to put you into this situation, after all. Like a single puppy left home alone, Sebastian went first for your new slippers, then the table leg and now he was chewing on your precious sofa—the couch meaning your privacy and relative peace of mind.

“Don’t give me that look.” He placed the menu back on the polished wood. “It wasn’t me who said that we were dating.”

“You forced me to do this! How else could I get a reliable alibi that I didn’t, in fact, murder anyone and especially not my own best friend?”

“I’m certain there was a lot of different ways to prove that.” He waved at the waiter. “Did you pick your order yet?”

“I’m not hungry.” You whispered something about going to the toilet when the waiter approached you two and only came back when he was gone, now your favorite beverage waiting for you at the table and Sebastian slowly sipping his tea.

“Besides,” he continued after you sat back down, moving your chair so your back was facing the window. “This outcome isn’t so bad, as you can see. You’re now even more famous than before.”

“I didn’t want to be some stupid celebrity and have people wonder what kind of bikini I wear and whether I have cellulite or not—I wanted to be known for my hard work. It’s something completely different than being stalked for having a guy like you nearby.”

“A guy like me?” He raised his slim eyebrow. “I doubt that would make it to the first pages.”

“I don’t care. I need to figure it all out and you’re going to help me whether you like it or not.”

“How overbearing.” Sebastian chuckled. “Enlighten me then, how do you plan on making it right?”

That’s where he got you. You still didn’t have any solid plan to retrieve your freedom and intimacy back and with all this chaos happening around you, with the demon constantly scheming against you behind your back, you felt quite overwhelmed. 

“That’s exactly what I thought.” He took a sip of his tea and placed the teacup back on the saucer. “And I suppose I have a perfect solution for this problem.”

“Meaning?” You wondered, hoping that this time you would finally hear some more useful news than another joke or allusion.

Instead of answering, Sebastian gently reached to you and placed his warm hand upon your cheek, caressing your lips with the featherlike touches of his thumb. His gaze was focused on you, slowly trailing from your eyes, through the curve of the nose down the mouth and back up again. He smiled at you but this time there was no insincerity behind it but rather pure fascination. Amazement, even, and one could say that also adoration.

It’s been a long time since Sebastian took a look at your soul, after all. Although he was present in your life almost everyday, it was quite rare for you to open up to him—you weren’t the type to cry your eyes out on his shoulder nor beg him for love. On the contrary. And for some odd reason he found it the most amusing—your soul, your price waiting to be paid hidden from his gaze, except for those tiny moments like this one when he was finally capable of looking you in the eyes and almost tasting your spirit at the tip of his tongue.

The sensation made him shiver with anticipation.

Eventually, Sebastian leaned forward and after not witnessing any kind of resistance from you, placed a soft, sweet kiss upon your lips. His own were still warm from the temperature of the tea he drank, tasting like herbs and honey, and his smell overwhelming your senses when you gave up to this gentle affection and closed your eyes to savor it. For the first time in months your heart started to beat faster but not because of stress or fear but rather excitement—something so trivial, you wouldn’t expect yourself of.

Sebastian kissed you slowly, barely nibbling at your lips and not taking any step further. His fingers left your cheek with an unpleasant coldness and rested at the crook of your neck, slightly pulling you closer but not strong enough to make you feel caged. Involuntarily you leaned toward him also, supported by the elbows on the wooden table and not paying attention to the fact that you have just most likely exposed yourself to all the people passing by the café. If the creepy paparazzi was still there, he had a once in a lifetime opportunity to immortalize the first official kiss of yours with your mysterious company.

And somehow, you thought it was alright. If you wanted your alibi to be solid, you should prove to everyone that Sebastian was, indeed, your husband and the mysterious disappearances had nothing to do with you. 

Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.

Initially, Sebastian was like some kind of hideous decoration standing in the middle of the living room—painted in vivid colors, with weird, eye-catching shape and not fitting to any particular home decoration style. You could place an elephant there as well and the overall effect it had on the guests would be quite similar. He was an interruption, a sudden chance of weather, an anomaly in your life, the one you called for yourself and although you considered him to be a hassle most of the time, as months passed you found yourself paying less and less attention to the abstract puzzle at the center of the jigsaw. It wasn’t that he was becoming less visible or having less impact on your everyday life—on the contrary, Sebastian’s actions were as ostentatious as always, it was just you who started to tolerate and maybe even like the strange addition to your new life.

Indeed, one could even accuse you of enjoying his company too much, especially when you were sharing a bed, tangled in the bedding and droplets of sweat glistening on your temple. His fingers were delicate and movements calculated to bring you nothing but pleasure when he was caressing and massaging your naked body. In those moments, you found him beautiful. With a warm gaze, perfectly cut lips, strong jaw and slim silhouette he could stand on the same pedestal as countless of Greek sculptures stood. Right now, however, he was not cold as marble but rather soft and attentive, all the previous flirts replaced by what could be described as nothing but endless love and adoration.

Fortunately, you knew better than to trust the perfect mask he chose just for you. It didn’t stop you from indulging into the pleasure, though, for how could you deny yourself a spark of joy when in the end it was supposed to be him to devour your whole existence and turn you into nothing? It would be a shame to not take everything this man, this demon, had to offer.

You were walking down the shore, the view of setting sun rays dancing over the nearby buildings making it seem like the whole world has somehow turned into molten gold. Yellows and oranges painted your surroundings into the real piece of art, something you weren’t sure anyone could ever capture on the canvas with mere brushes. The town you decided to stay in (small and rather unknown, free from the crowds of tourists) had everything you could possibly need for an effective rest and refreshing inspiration—restaurants by the sea, both museums and clubs, promenade near the beach and a whole street of various shops. It was truly something new, the change of scenery making it easier to breathe and prepare for the upcoming premiere of a brand new video game based on your story alone.

You could say a lot of things about Sebastian and how he managed to get on your nerves like nobody else, but you had to admit that there wasn’t a single slip in his plan to make your biggest dream come true. Everything he promised you was truly happening, step by step, one at a time, but eventually you could clearly see the results. As much as you loved it, you couldn’t not notice how it was all leading to the end of your own story also.

“Lost in thoughts?” Sebastian asked, his long fingers intertwined with yours as you slowly passed by the sailboats docked to the pier. “Were you thinking about the grand premiere?”

“I thought I had nothing to worry about in this regard.” You peeked at him from under your sunglasses. “Was I mistaken?”

“No, not in the slightest. I assure you I took care of everything.”

“So it’ll be an indisputable success?” You insisted.

“Are you doubting your own skills all of a sudden?”

For the first time you left him without an answer. Perhaps it was the matter of the different surroundings or maybe it was the setting sun that brought this mood to you, but watching as it slowly drowned in the endless ocean you wondered how it will feel to have your soul sucked out of you. Will it hurt? Will you be scared? Or maybe you won’t notice it at all? Was it up to Sebastian to decide on how he will take it?

Your dreams were coming true, the very thing you craved for such a long period of time was finally yours, kept in your hands and there was no obstacle nor foe that could take that away from you, so why were you getting nostalgic all of a sudden?

“Should I take it as a ‘yes’?” Sebastian’s voice brought you back to reality but he didn’t give you enough time to answer. “My, my, I didn’t take you for an insecure type.”

“You shouldn’t worry your pretty, little head about things you won’t understand. Emotions are not your strong point, if I remember correctly?”

He chuckled but admitted you were right.

The oranges turned into burning red, making it seem as if the horizon was on fire. Behind your back, the sky was slowly fading from all its colors, leaving the thick stripes of pale pink, purple and navy blue at the east. You could spot a few stars shyly appearing there.

“I merely did what you ordered me to,” Sebastian continued and to your surprise, added further:. “I cannot say whether you would be able to achieve it with or without my intervention.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“I’m speaking about the ‘right place and right time’ occurrence. Surely you know that your work is good as it is, don’t you?”

You stopped and looked at him confused, not really understanding where he was going with all this dialogue and unexpected confession. Pulling him slightly by the hand, you forced him to stop also.

“Explain yourself. Or should I get worried about you having a sun stroke?”

The demon tilted his head and you thought that he was going to kiss you again, just to make you forget about all those questions and doubts. Nevertheless, he knew that you were smart and wouldn’t simply be silenced by some sweet nothings.

“What do you think I did to make all your books bestsellers?”

You shrugged. It could be some kind of his hellish magic or personal charm which allowed him to get whatever he wanted wherever he got. Quite difficult to tell for an ordinary human, since he never bragged about his methods and you never cared enough to ask.

“I’m aware that you’re not familiar with my ways of working,” he admitted. “However, influencing a group of people can be rather troublesome, not to mention when the target group is reaching almost the whole world. Simply put, it would cost me a lot of time and energy to force them all into purchasing your precious books, leaving flattering reviews and recommending further and so, I decided to wait instead.”

“For the ‘right place and time’?” you quoted him.

“Exactly.” He gently pulled you after him so you could continue the afternoon stroll in the sunset. “I was waiting and observing the people involved until finally the perfect opportunity struck. That’s when I whispered a word or two to those who were in charge of certain matters, sneaked a copy of your manuscript et voilà! It doesn’t change the fact that the one who created and wrote those stories was you.”

The sounds of small waves swinging in the shore filled your brain with peaceful, rhythmical melody when you were analyzing Sebastian’s words over and over again. You were walking mindlessly by his side now, too lost in thoughts to notice that the circle of light finally hid behind the horizon and left the whole palette of colors above your head. The salty smell of the water was reaching your nose and you could hear people chatting and laughing somewhere in the distance—there was also music playing in one of the gardens of a nearby restaurant.

It was such a peaceful scenery, it completely didn’t match the chaos in your mind.

“Are you…” You cleared your throat, finding it difficult to form your thoughts into sentences. “Are you saying that I could have achieved all of that without your help?”

Sebastian smiled at you with such an adoration that it made your blood run cold.

“And you knew it from the very beginning? From the day we met?” You insisted, feeling as his silence started to fuel the spark of anger inside your heart.

“No, I cannot predict the future. All I did was calculate the turn of events and pick the best moment to strike. If it turned out that your books were a complete failure, then I’d have to intervene in a different way but fortunately, they were not. I suppose I can share this little secret of mine now that you almost reached your final goal.”

Your fingers were suddenly cold against his, the fresh breeze caressing the heated skin on your cheeks when you turned to the side and looked at the endless sea. You wondered if perhaps it was better to not know the truth and die clueless.

The smile which appeared on your lips was rather surprising to Sebastian and maybe it surprised even you. Whatever his intentions were, he wasn’t expecting you to react positively to this kind of news—you could cry and wail, cursing him for using you for his own gain, you could argue with him, accuse him of breaking the rules of the contract or tricking you into believing that you were completely hopeless without him, you could do anything! And yet, you simply smiled and then let out a happy chuckle.

Then, without a warning, you were the one to pull him to the side and head toward the restaurant where you could hear the music playing.

“Are you not going to respond in any way?” Sebastian frowned and you could clearly see that it was the first time in many centuries that someone managed to puzzle him.

You looked at him over your shoulder and pushed the sunglasses up your head to meet his stare. Then you laughed at his confused expression, so different from the everpresent smugness and confidence, and you swore that whatever was going to happen, it was worth living all those years, even if just for witnessing him making this face at how far he still was from understanding human nature.

“Well, what can I say?” You shrugged. “I told you I’m the best writer in the world.”

[ commission me ]

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian michaelis x you #demons #commissions

[yourheartonfire]

Reporter finds out that their city's hero is corrupt, and they make it their goal to expose them to the public. Somehow they fall in love. (Can go plucky reporter who openly confronts Hero, or cautious reporter who knows a corrupt hero is dangerous, so they get close under false pretenses to find evidence.)

Prompt courtesy of @thepenultimateword

"Wait. No. What is...?" The reporter's throat had gone dry as sand. They slapped the composition book shut, thrust it back into the gold paper wrappings. But it was too late. Afterimages of dates and names and dizzyingly high sums danced before their eyes - all in the hero's own neat handwriting.

"It's the proof you wanted, darling," the hero said, a dreamy smile on their lips as they gazed at the reporter through the candlesticks. "All the money I've been extorting from our city's villains in exchange for turning a blind eye to their wrongdoing. Happy one year anniversary."

The reporter stared from the hero's face back down to the gift, so beautifully wrapped. They had gotten the hero designer sunglasses. "You knew," they said. It was meant to be a question but... no. This was not a surprise. Somewhere over the past year, this had become an inevitability. "You knew I was..."

"Investigating me? Seducing me?" The hero chuckled and rose. The reporter managed to quash their flinch as the hero picked up the reporter's empty plate, then their own. "Darling, I spend my life foiling schemes. Yes, of course I knew."

The reporter sat, flooded in an adrenaline rush so strong they wondered if they were having a heart attack. The door to the hero's penthouse apartment was forty feet behind their back. Their fingers itched to grab that notebook and run - but some survival instinct kept them frozen to their chair as the hero prowled the dishes off to the kitchen.

"So," the reporter said evenly. "You've just been... toying with me, this whole time?"

"Toying with you," the hero purred, returning to cock a hip against the table and give the reporter that half-feral smile they had only ever seen behind closed doors. God help them, the reporter felt themselves blush. "Yes. That's a good word. You decided you'd try to seduce your way into my confidence, to uncover my secrets. So..." The hero traced a finger along the reporter's temple, teasing a lock of hair out to run between their fingers. "...I set out to seduce you back. And you win."

The reporter blinked. "What."

"You win." The hero gave a fond little tug to their hair and then let go. "I've fallen in love with you. So."

"You cant love me! I'm here to expose you!" The reporter scrambled backwards, clutching the notebook to their chest as if the hero hadn't just handed it to them, literally gift wrapped. "You've been blackmailing villains!"

The hero shrugged without a blush of shame. "Only those who would have bought their way out of the justice system anyway. Why shouldn't I cut out the middleman and use their money for crime-fighting?"

"Crime-fighting? You're lining your pockets!" The reporter waved a hand wildly at their luxury surroundings as they backed away. "The food, the clothes, the whole lifestyle!"

"And I'm the last hero of my generation still standing," the hero said, calm and steady as they paced forward. "You think that's a coincidence? Or you think it's because you and I both know sometimes doing the right thing means bending a few rules along the way?"

The reporter stopped dead again. "What are you talking about?"

The hero's hand closed on the reporter's wrist and - yanked was too harsh a word. It was a pull and a spin, like the sun dragging a meteorite into its gravity well and suddenly the reporter was wrapped up in the hero's arms. In their lover's arms, their back pressed to the hero's chest.

"This," the hero hummed into the protagonist's ear, swaying them both to the soft music trickling from the hidden sound system. "A year of lies and blurred lines and compromises to get your story. Hardly the stuff of journalistic ethics seminars. What would your friends and colleagues say?"

"So it's blackmail," the reporter whispered.

"If that's what you want. We could destroy each other. Or..." The hero's mouth pressed to the sensitive spot on the reporter's neck. They almost melted. "Or we could see what happens next, with all our cards on the table."

"You can't be serious." The reporter jerked away. The hero let them go. "You want to keep dating?"

"Of course. You're gorgeous, clever, a little reckless, and you have that flexible morality thing. It's like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other." The hero gave them a once-over so blatant the reporter blushed again. But they didn't move to corner the reporter. "Go home, think about it. Take the notebook."

"You won't chase me?" the reporter said before they could stop themselves.

The hero's grin widened. "How about I give you a head start?"

The reporter fled to the sound of the hero's laughter rattling in their chest.

#my fiction #hero x villain #reporter x hero #evil hero #filled prompt #thepenultimateword #reporter x villain #100 #300 #500

[fastcardotmp3]

rockstar!robin, manager!steve, music journalist!eddie AU for funsies

On my first day shadowing her for this article, Robin Buckley tells me that her greatest fear in the world is not the massive crowds that flood arenas at every stop on her ongoing international tour, not the looming anxiety that her blooming success may be fleeting, not even a joke about how she worries this piece will make her look. No. On the day I meet Robin Buckley, she tells me the scariest thing on the planet is rabies. "By the time the symptoms set in, you're already dead," she says, walking with long strides towards her dressing room in the endless backstage of the Indianapolis Fieldhouse. "And I don't know about you, but death by raccoon is not how I want to go out."

I ask her if that's because it's not rock-and-roll enough, if such a mundane last stand doesn't match up with where she sees her life going these days, but the first thing out of her mouth in response is laughter.

She tells me maybe with a toss of her hands, asks me if I'm a music journalist or a shrink, and gets immediately pulled into a conversation about whether she's done rehearsing with her favorite guitar so it can be prepped stage left.

I try to stick around, try and get the inside scoop on how Robin Buckley prepares for a show, but I'm usurped by her fucking guard dog of a manager who fjsakdlfjaslkdfja FUCKING jesus CHRISTfsj

Eddie slams his hands down on his laptop keyboard and strains his neck back to look at the ceiling which is, quite frankly, an idiotic decision for a guy who gets motion sick on vehicles the size of, say, your average tour bus.

Don't get him wrong, he loves a good tour bus, loves the press van, loves the sweaty mess of a thing filled with people competing for clicks and desperate for the best quotes and--

Yeah, okay, maybe he doesn't love it, but if he's ever going to get enough notoriety in this business to write the sort of rock n' roll histories he grew up swallowing hole in the back room of his uncle's trailer, he has to go on a few shitty assignments.

Shitty assignments for alternative rock, one-hit wonders and their fucking hyper-protective managers who carry around lists of topics they're not allowed to bring up around Miss Buckley as if the girl herself isn't a goddamn open book.

How can the guy put a moratorium on her fucking home life if she herself sits down with the lowly press at lunch and twirls out story after story about her hippie parents teaching her how to roll a blunt when she was twelve years old?

How is Eddie supposed to write this damn article let alone his magnum opus if the advent of the internet has made managers and publicists everywhere so goddamn paranoid that Eddie has to use an anecdote about rabies as his hook?

Who is Steve Goddamn Harrington to tell Eddie how to do his job?

It's not that Eddie even wants to tear his little star apart; Eddie actually likes her contrary to the tension headache overtaking him on the ride between Indy and Columbus, but how is he supposed to prove why to readers if he's not allowed to say anything?

On his first day on this tour, Eddie had been forced to sit on this very bus and get a lecture from Steve Harrington, who has apparently been leading Robin's team from the small town get-go, and who is apparently God or whatever, and the thing is the guy's a prick.

He's downright insufferable, assumes the worst in people and expects their best behavior nonetheless, and Eddie can't stand his guts.

Except.

Except on day one of this tour, Steve Harrington gave them a terse lecture befitting a high school principal on the bus and then turned around and talked to the driver about his family for ten minutes before hopping out and going back to work.

And except, when they were in Chicago, he was screaming in some guy's face backstage and Eddie thought he'd discovered the real Steve, only to find out from a crew member later on that the guy in question was getting fired for trying (and failing) to hide a camera in Robin's dressing room.

And except, most of the time Steve Harrington is stern and bitchy and protective but the first time Eddie saw him talking to Robin before a show the two of them were laughing. Bright in ways that can't be faked.

Joyful.

Eddie looks back down at his computer and curses the man who is making this job so much more fucking difficult than it needs to be. Robin Buckley is a good story, without need for any embellishment.

Her start is interesting, where she comes from is interesting, her sound is even interesting despite its overnight popularity and worst of all Eddie likes her.

She's kind and open and smart as a whip-- apparently speaks four languages and is working on a fifth. She's got this sharp edge to her where she doesn't take an ounce of shit this industry throws at her and Eddie doesn't have to stretch to understand why her fans adore her.

God, he wants to write a good piece about this fascinating kid from Hawkins, Indiana, and he wants to write about the manager who she constantly reminds them she owes all her success to because how did that happen.

Eddie wants to be a fly on the wall when those two talk about ice cream, the weather, anything and he wants this article to be the one that gets him that goddamn book deal. Get Jonathan the high profile photog gig he deserves and Nancy the co-writing credit they've been dreaming of since college.

But there's still the guard dog in the way.

There's still Steve Harrington.

On the first day manager and good, Midwestern boy Steve Harrington introduces us to the star of the show, he tells us, "a toe out of line and I'll have your credentials stripped so far down the only paper that'll hire you has a whole page dedicated to Bible verses."

And as a good, Midwestern boy myself? I believe him.

Eddie thinks there's a story here, and he thinks he's the one savvy enough with loopholes to find it.

He's got three more hours 'til Columbus to figure out how.

#dot fic #dot post #steddie #stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things au #steddie au #have your saturday night ramble I had a thought threw it up and now it is yours peace and love <3 #i've never written quite such an AU au but i had fun with this!