#AND GUESS WHAT. THEY UPGRADED MY SEAT FOR FREE

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

blushing birthday

a/n: iihhh! first story in this slutty au! felt like this was a good place to jump off from. and also, i just wanna point this out because i nearly never do and perhaps some people don’t realise it, but if you have a thought, an idea, a wish or request in this au (or any other, my inbox is always open for requests) then feel free to click on my ask button and send it my way ♡

summary: “so, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, smut, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, dilf neighbour!andy barber, reader's porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes, curtis’ birthday, partying, alcohol consumption, kissing, masturbation, impact play, fingering, toys, edging, clothed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3953

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

The last rays of sunshine for the day streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and cast soft shadows across your form as you sat cross-legged on your mattress. 

With your reach outstretched towards your laptop propped up on the chair situated at the foot of your bed, you clicked on the go live button and watched as a countdown appeared on the screen, overlaying your visage staring back at you as your gaze briefly flickered around to check your gear one last time. 

Thanks to your three roommates who’d insisted on helping you upgrade your setup, there wasn’t just one, but two cameras pointing directly at you. One angle to catch all of your frame and one zoomed-in to capture a perfect close-up between your legs. 

“Hey guys!” a warm smile swiftly dazzled your features as you watched the first few people jump at your notification, “good evening or good–, whatever time of day it is for you.” 

The messages in the chat started rolling in, some with usernames you recognised and some you didn’t. 

TheFrogo: Hi Cherry! How are you? Have you had a good day so far?

DrownByPussy: Omg you’re finally live! I’ve been hard all day knowing I’d get to see you today.

“Hi Frogo, yeah, I’ve had a pretty good day, but I’m hoping that it might get even better, because I’ve got something pretty fun planned for tonight,” your hands absentmindedly fidgeted along the length of your legs as you spoke, “so, today is a friend of mine’s birthday and–, wait,” you paused and leaned in closer to catch a better look of the scrolling messages, “I haven’t seen you write in the chat yet, but birthday boy, if you’re here, you better log off right now or you’ll ruin your surprise,” you warned, glancing straight into the camera, “I’ll give you five seconds get off,” a pointer finger then kissed each of your digits as you counted down, “five… four… three… two… one,” you squinted a moment longer before a giggle bubbled out, “okay, so now that it’s just us, I can tell you what I’ve got planned,” you switched up your seat, moving your legs to comfortably kneel on the mattress with your frame slightly turned at an angle for you to better see the screen, but retroactively grant everyone a view of the curve of your spine as the line swooped down over your waist and blossomed into the plush of your ass, sinfully on display in the pastel blue, mesh lingerie you wore, “there is one thing in particular that he has just been begging for… any guesses?”

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Hmm… is it a particular fantasy? A little bit of roleplay action? 

8inchStallion: Threesome? 

“Nope. All fun suggestions, but no.”

TittyCokeKingXXX: Is it to bang in public?

Cream314159: How about anal? 

“Cream! Yes! You guessed it!” you excitedly threw your hands up in the air, “it is anal that he’s been dreaming about.”

Ddadddy6969: I mean, who can blame him.

ItsBradBtch: Fucking same.

TearinYoBootyUp: Wish it was my birthday today so you’d let me fuck your tight little ass.

“So, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

KyleKyleson: Yes!

UrPervyDaddy398: Hell yeah, let’s get you ready to take that monster cock.

Casting a glance out of the nearby window, your eye couldn’t help but catch sight of the neighbouring house. It didn’t look like the divorced dad who resided there was home, though you still nevertheless searched for him. You weren’t completely clueless to his infatuation with you, though it had almost turned into a game, always trying to catch him peeping at you through the windows, or even taking it further by purposely wearing something skimpy when you’d go get the mail or other activities where you would know you’d bump into him. You didn’t judge him to be the type of man to ever really do anything about it, to actually reach out and grasp a wet dream of a girl so much his junior, but the teasing had become too much fun for you to stop, you were too far gone to draw the curtains closed now. 

As a quiet jingle sounded from your speakers, indicating that someone had tipped you, your gaze flickered back towards the computer screen. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Is that the underwear set I bought you off your wishlist? You look even more gorgeous in it than I imagined.

“Oh, thanks A,” you let your palms graze down over the thin mesh, feeling your pussy clench as your touch brushed over your nipples poking through the baby blue material, “yeah, it is. It matches the dress I’m planning on wearing tonight, so I thought I’d be cute.”

Call_Me_Sir_844: Turn around, Cherry. Let us see it from the back.  

“Yes, sir, of course,” you chuckled lightly before shifting around, purposely arching your back as you glanced over your shoulder. 

729AlwaysHard: How is your ass even real?

Like1OfUrFrenchGrls: Damn, that butt is just begging for a spanking.

Raking your touch down your sides, you smirked, “oh, you want me to spank my ass?” before the jingle of a tip echoed from the computer, “alright, baby,” and like a cat, your frame scooped down, gliding on to all fours and sticking your bottom high up in the air, “how many do you think? Let’s say, highest tipper gets to decide, but please, be kind, I still have to be able to dance the night away tonight.”

TittyCokeKingXXX tipped $50 – 10 spanks, with a paddle

BootyLover47 tipped $35 – 4 spanks

MrHansen tipped $100 – 6 spanks 

“Thank you guys,” you wiggled playfully for them, “and Mr. Hansen, wow, thank you so much!” you squeaked ecstatically, “well, I guess I better start counting then.” 

After each smack your palm landed on your propped-up bottom, the coinciding number rolled off your lips till your ass was tingling and sore for all your viewers to see. 

WinterIsCumming: Fuck, just seeing your little pussy through those panties… they’re soaked, aren’t they?

Gliding a hand down between your legs, your fingertips ghosted over the sheer fabric that clung to your core.

“They are, Winter,” you blinked up at the camera, “man, I wish you were here to give me a hand.”

NastyBoi: Show us that pretty little pussy, come on, don’t be shy now.

“You want me to take my underwear off for you? Take them off so that I can really play?”

And with the chimes of tips swiftly ringing in your ears, one of your fingers then hooked in the gusset and carefully peeled it to the side, letting it act as a frame as you momentarily teased them with just a glimpse of your glistening folds, before you slowly slid them off completely. 

Eventually, after your slick digits had gotten a chance to warm you up and tease you till you were practically buzzing on both of the camera angles that now displayed you, as it hadn’t taken you very long till you switched to a split screen, both your face frozen in a silent moan and your pretty holes drooling for attention pressed up against one another, side by side on the stream, your fingers then reached for a toy, the pretty glass dildo you had picked out just before the show.

You first popped the toy in your mouth as you flipped around and relaxed back against your pile of pillows. Letting your gaze flicker over the downright filthy comments rolling across the screen, you sucked on the toy for a bit before pulling it out and letting it float down south. 

“Fuck,” your eyes fluttered slightly as you rubbed the tip gently against your little rosebud, “oh, that feels so good.” 

Cream314159: Yeah, Cherry, tease that little ass like a good slut.

8inchStallion: Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow my load soon if you keep looking like that. 

Ddadddy6969: Has your fuck buddy really never had your ass before? Tbh kinda hard to believe considering what a whore you are for all of us. I love your anal shows, they’re always my favourite. 

“I know, daddy,” a light giggle tore through your form, “I’m honestly kinda surprised as well, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.” 

BongDong420: Wait, are you an anal virgin? Plot twist. 

“No, no, I’m not, I love anal,” you sucked in a gentle gasp as you let just the tip of the toy breach your tight opening, “I just haven’t really done it yet with too many different people. Actually, I’ve only done it with one so far, now that I think about it,” you swiftly shook your head and forced your eyes to flicker to the messages to rid your thoughts of your ex. 

Call_Me_Sir_844: Please open your mouth, I’m gonna cum!

“Oh, yes, please cum for me, sir,” you answered the comment and then let your lips part wide. As your tongue stuck out as well, a string of saliva soon dripped down as you waited, the spit colliding with your tits and running down your cleavage. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer tipped $550 – Don’t let yourself cum. Edge yourself so that you can be all drippy and dumb for him like a good little present should be. 

Since you and your roommates lived in a residential area too quiet for college ragers, some of the guys Steve and Bucky were on the football team with offered to throw the bash at their fraternity. 

Music blared, nearly making the entire house rumble, as you walked around the place, searching for the one of your roommates who the party was in honour of. 

Fiddling lightly with the hem of your silky dress as you peeked into the room where a rowdy game of beer pong was afoot, you still felt a little dizzy as desperation soaked through your ruined panties. 

Though, as you checked the kitchen, a bulky frame bumped into you, though it wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill frat boy, incapable of watching where they went, it was the very last person you wished to lay your eyes upon. 

“Y/n, hey,” the trust fund kid caught your arm before you could slip away. 

“Ransom,” you couldn’t help but clench your jaw as you tried to free yourself of his hold, “hello.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you nearly scoffed as you squinted up at him, “it’s my roommate’s birthday party.” 

“Right, forgot you moved in with all of them, became just one of the boys…” as a beat of silence fell over him, he let his gaze then rake over your form, lapping up the soft blue material that draped across your curves, “you look good tonight, by the way.”

“I–…” your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a sigh, “Ransom, can we not? Just for tonight, can we not do all of this? Just let me be here, celebrate my friend, and then after that, if you so wish, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Just one night of peace, that’s all I’m asking for.”

His dark brows then furrowed as he cocked his head, “babe, come on–”

Cutting him off with a scoff, you spat, “I haven’t been your babe since you broke up with me.”

He had been all for landing a girl that was essentially a wet dream come true when it came to all of the sinful areas you were itching to explore with him, but what hadn’t been a part of his plans was having a girlfriend who wasn’t exclusively a slut for him and him alone. He’d told you to choose between him and your dirty little hobby, but to his surprise, you hadn’t even hesitated when you didn’t choose him. 

A low sigh then puffed from his lungs, “fine.”

Heatedly ripping your arm free, you echoed, “fine,” before turning on your heel and exiting the kitchen. 

Luckily, your search didn’t drag on too much further before you stumbled upon your celebrated friend. 

“There you are!” you exclaimed, your voice ushering Curtis’ head to twist in your direction, his glance shifting from the pool table before him. 

“Baby!” he swiftly threw open his inked arms and pulled you close, “hey!”

Hearing the heavy balls clank around on the table, you asked, “are you in the middle of a game or could I steal you away for a sec?”

“Nah, not this round,” he withdrew only ever so slightly, letting one of his arms stay draped over your shoulders, “what do you need?”

Pulling him with you in the direction of the wide staircase, you smirked, “I just have a present to give you…”

“Another one?” he blinked as you dragged him up the steps. 

“Well, you deserve the world, so yes, you get another one this year,” you offered him a warm smile. 

“Man,” he exhaled as you reached the upper level, “happy birthday to me,” a smirk spread across his features as he willingly let you push him into one of the rooms. 

It was a study room filled with long communal desks, tall bookcases and velvet armchairs. It was also, thankfully, vacant of any other partygoers. 

“Happy birthday, Curtis,” you didn’t waste any time, the door barely managed to slam behind you, before you yanked him in for a kiss. 

It took him a second before he caught up with your sudden actions, but as soon as he did, a gentle giggle rumbled from his intoxicated form and vibrated against your lips as he enveloped his long arms around your frame. 

Feet shuffling, your roommate soon bumped into one of the tables, lending him to half sit on it as you let your touch rake down his figure. Even with the swift and determined pace your desperation drove you to have, it still didn’t take that long for Curtis to be on the same page as you, and when your palm fluttered down to cup him through his pants, the tent twitched beneath your touch. 

At first, when you then withdrew from the kiss, Curtis instinctively followed your disappearing lips till he noticed your knees buckling as you sank down onto the floor. 

“This is so much better than losing at pool,” he gazed down at you between his thighs, nearly hypnotised as you tugged at his zipper.

“I’d sure hope so,” you nearly scoffed as you freed him of his binds, not hesitating to lean in and swipe your tongue silkily against the very tip of him as soon as you had the chance, “although, you know I never mind being a consolation prize.”

“Consolation prize?” his tone filtered through a soft groan as your fist enclosed around his base, twisting slightly as it jerked up to graze your mouth, “that’s not what you were last week.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” your giggle vibrated against him, “it’s okay, baby. Maybe next time we play at home you’ll get to win and show the others who’s boss,” you purred before your lips enveloped fully around his fat girth. 

When spit and slobber soon bubbled out and dripped down onto your chest from your efforts, you got back up to your feet. As you let the back of your palm wipe a bit of the mess from your chin, you twisted your frame around and let your spine melt back against this broad chest. 

As you felt Curtis’ fingers dig into your dress and hike it up, you rolled your hips back against him, nearly dizzy with want. Gliding a hand down between your thighs, you captured the sodden material, utterly ruined and clinging to your core, before you yanked it to the side, the leaky mess not yet ready to let go of the panties and spiderwebbing to where you pulled it to the side.  

Reaching around, your grip captured his cock once again as you tilted him to teasingly brush through your folds, your activities from earlier made it almost pathetic how sloppy you got him in a matter of seconds. 

As his lips pressed to your cheek in a hot kiss, you glanced over your shoulder to catch his eye and take in his reaction.

You didn’t warn him, nor say anything at all. Only a smirk glimmered on your lips as a forewarning before you led him away from the leaky entrance he naturally assumed you’d let him into, and instead arched your back and eased his slicked-up length into somewhere else. 

“Oh–, holy shit,” his eyes flickered down to affirm what you were doing before blinking up at you in the assumption that it was a mistake, “baby, you’re–”

“I know,” you smiled at the way his chest heaved at the realisation. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

“Told you I had another present for you,” your gloating grin softened at the moan that slipped out as you sank down just a little further upon his dick. 

His fingers dented both sides of your hips as you slowly let him feel more of you, “oh my god, you’re the fucking best…” 

It was shallow at first, gentle as you controlled the pace, though still mind-meltingly intense as you fucked back against him till your knees began to wobble, feeling each and every little detail of his stretch your little ass out. 

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face between the lazy pecks he planted there and occasionally veering further south to try and mark your neck up with his bites. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you whimpered when one of his inked arms snaked around to your front and stretched down to rub your clit, swollen and throbbing between the pads of his rough fingers. 

Since you’d backed away from the edge not too long before, its overwhelming return was swift and quickly rendered you a shivering mess in his arms as your rhythm came to a rest and the tight circles he drew over your puffy pearl pushed you into insanity. 

Eyes still shut as you were panting for breath, you felt Curtis pluck up your chin and tilt it so that his lips could seize yours. 

Though the blissful pause didn’t last very long before he manoeuvred you around, manhandling you into a new configuration, though all the while never slipping his cock out. 

His palm was heavy against your back as he whirled you around and bent you over the table. Cheek smooshed against the smooth wooden surface, the thunderous snap his hips then offered caused the desk to rattle beneath you. 

However, just as you sensed him begin to lose himself, burying his cock so deep inside of you that it caused you to see stars, the creaking sound of the door to the study swinging open sliced through the lewd harmonies already filling the room.

Even though you couldn’t really glance over your shoulder to see who it was that entered, the recognisable voices that then found your ears calmed your worries about why Curtis’ pace for some reason hadn’t slowed down in the slightest. 

“No, I’m not kidding, that’s really what–, oh,” Bucky’s sentence paused as soon he spotted you, “hello you two.”

You attempted to tilt your head against the table as the last of your roommates came into view, shut the door behind them and stepped closer. 

As you reached out a wobbly hand to grasp Steve’s, he sweetly caught it in his and chuckled at your cock drunk visage, “hey.”

“Hmm–, hi…” you attempted to greet them, Bucky swiftly bending down to briefly be at your height, letting his fingers brush some of your hair out of your face as Curtis’ efforts jolted your frame against the table at every feverish thrust. 

“Was wondering where you guys were,” Steve held onto your hand a little longer as his glance met the blissful gaze of the man who was balls deep inside of you, “I thought she already gave you her little present.”

“You knew?” Curtis tilted his chin, to which you tried to explain with a mumble, though one of your roommates didn’t hesitate to playfully ask you to clarify.

“I’m sorry what was that? You’re being too much of whore right now for me to understand you,” Bucky pressed a peck to your brow before straightening back up, “look, I would have totally told you man, but she threatened us not to ruin the surprise.” 

“Yeah, said that if you didn’t get to take a dip first, then none of us ever would,” Steve added. 

“Aw,” you felt Curtis kneed your bottom as he slammed into you, “you’d really have done that?”

“I did say you deserve the world, so yeah,” you managed to squeak. 

“It’s so cute how sappy birthdays make you,” Bucky smirked, “such a shame not one of us even hesitates to exploit it.” 

As one hand stayed glued to the curve of your ass, his thumb hooked in your underwear to grant not only him but the rest a perfect view of just how well you took him, Curtis’ other hand then stretched out to grasp the half-empty beer that Steve handed him, briefly taking a swig before handing it back. 

“Yeah, she really is just such a good little girl, aren’t you?” Steve found a seat on one of the nearby chairs. 

“Mhm…” you barely caught sight of how both of them palmed themselves for an ounce of relief. 

Sitting down as well, Bucky squinted cockily back at you as your hazy eyes briefly caught his, “what was that, sweetheart?”  

“I’m a–,” you blubbered as Curtis’ cock stretched you so wide that you even felt it press against the sweet spots in your throbbing pussy, “I’m a g-good girl–”

“Yes, you are, baby, that’s right,” Curtis chuckled warmly behind you before offering your ass a swift slap, “the fucking best.”

“Oh, oh! She’s so close to cumming, I can see it!” Bucky exclaimed in an almost mocking tone as your eyes began to roll, “just look at that face,” he nearly jumped to get closer, “so fucking pretty.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Steve leaned back in his seat and squeezed his hard-on as he stared at your fucked out form, “give us a good show. Make it good for the birthday boy.” 

Although, unfortunately, you were already too far gone by then to take any of their lewd comments into account as you tumbled over the edge, floating in the sea of your cheering roommates as a soundtrack. 

After your friend had emptied himself into your haven, he simply slid your panties back into place so that his cum could leak out of you for the rest of the party and ruin your sheer underwear completely, perhaps even give up entirely and run down your shaky legs for all to see.

Bending down to smother you back to life with kisses, you also felt Curtis’ arms tangle around you as he hugged you and slowly lifted you off of the table. 

“You wanna go down and dance?” his low timbre tickled the shell of your ear. 

“Just give me a second,” you breathed through your hazy smile as you fought to blink your eyes back open, “my legs will first have to start working again. Maybe you could take over the music for a second and queue up something slow,” you light-heartedly suggested with an airy chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Bucky smirked from across the table, “we’ll help keep you upright.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[astonmartingf]

I FEEL THE RUSH. . . 🏁🍒🏎️

LICENSE TO DRIVE ; f1 driver!oc x platonic! f1 grid

. . . with no available seat in the f1 grid, and winning the formula w championship, katarina looks for different prospects and lands on a wec seat

amgf it's refreshing to update this, especially after finishing ybom, it's a palate cleanser for me and i love her sm, i have three drafts on ltd

"RED FLAG! WE HAVE RED FLAG— Four cars crashed into each other, reaching the barriers. All cars are pitted and the race comes to a halt."

Those were the exact words the commentators said, and before Katarina knew it the season was over before the race even began.

That was two months ago, 2015 is starting and despite winning the Formula 2 Championship, she wasn't exactly feeling like a "winner".

Sure she could appeal to join Formula 1 by now, but Katarina the mere 17 year old thought the chances were slim. Sure she's capable of pulling a Max Verstappen, but the female didn't like sharing the spotlight.

Especially not to Max, she'd rather start on a different track. Something in the same playing field, but of a different caliber. Something like the World Endurance Championship.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Her father, Alvize Lombardi bursts out from the kitchen, facing his daughter right in front of the computer desk.

"It's just testing and I already told Ma about it. She's okay." Katarina shrugs before sending emails to three different teams. One thing about Katarina is her persistence, her need to create a space for herself, and if it means personally emailing team principals and asking about open spots she will do it.

"Ay, of course your mama will say yes she's just like you! Always racing, always busy with the cars. Slow down piccolina, we both know you'll get back on the track before you know it."

Katarina blinks, realizing how much she's been clicking reload, waiting for a response in her mail. Turning around away from the screen Katarina catches her father busy in the kitchen preparing snacks.

"You know what, you're right. I will get that seat." Standing up, Katarina wraps her arms around her father from behind.

"Thank you papa." The older male rests his hands on the smaller pair engulfing his waist.

"Now. Go bring this to the garage, or else your mother will never leave under that car she's been fixing."

"I GOT A SEAT! MANTHEY RACING!" Her excitement can be heard throughout their whole house. Her father in the kitchen swerved through the kitchen island, grabbing the female's shoulders for support reading the email in front of the screen.

"There are only two drivers at the moment, and if they don't find anyone, they say they'll give the seat to me." Katarina stares at the screen, rereading the letter word for word in case she misses something.

Eyes locked on the screen, Katarina blinks, losing focus of the screen. Only then did the tears fall from her eyes.

"Piccolina... we're proud of you. You did this all on your own." Katarina shakes her head left and right, taking comfort in the arms of her father.

"I wouldn't go far without you two– you're always there even though you don't like to see me race. I'm sorry for racing all the time."

Alvize tuts in disagreement, "Piccolina, I'm sorry you think that way. Seeing you race reminds me of when I first met your mother... wild and free. And that scares me, have you seen your mother drive?"

"Talking behind my back to our daughter?"

Katarina turns around to see her mother, blonde hair sticking out in different directions. Katarina could guess that she spent her time under her kart, meticulously checking for upgrades.

"Ma, you don't need to repair my kart for a whole year." Eyes wide, beaming with enthusiasm as Katarina watches her mother realize what the excitement in the living room was all about.

"You're racing?"

She bobs her head repeatedly, "I got a seat in Porsche Manthey Racin–"

"NO!"

"What?" Her mother's outburst caught her off-guard. "But you said yes, I told you about it."

Her mother shakes her head, “I thought you’d end up in a Formula 1 Team, not Endurance Racing. Withdraw right now.”

“Ma?” Katarina keeps her eyes at her mother, looking for the answers, an explanation at least to her actions. But before the younger female could ask her more, she left the dining room leaving Katarina frozen in the living room.

KATARINA’S LEGS BOUNCE UP AND DOWN AS THE CLOCK TICKS DOWN, marking the end of the first race in 6 Hours of Silverstone. Beside Katarina are her teammates racing for Porsche Manthey Racing in the LTGME Pro Category after being cleared to join. It was all new for Katarina, and a little bit too much.

Especially after her mother’s disapproval— something she took to heart. Her mother had been the one supporting her since she began karting, her mother who shared the same hobbies and dreams with. Her mother whom she wanted to be like, the dream of racing all began with her. And when she expressed her disapproval in Katarina in Endurance Racing, it hit hard for the female.

But like her mother, Katarina didn’t stop and instead pursued racing for Porsche, spending her summer in Germany training and testing cars. It bothered her how her mother didn’t even explain as to why she doesn’t agree with her racing. And now, at Katarina’s long awaited debut, yet her mother is nowhere to be seen.

She managed to contribute two hours worth of driving in the Silverstone track, it was unlike the cars she drove before— despite the months of training nothing could compare to the actual race, fortunately she managed to complete two hours successfully before switching with a third driver.

As the clock ticks down to the last few seconds, Katarina keeps her eyes on the leaderboard screen, looking for their team position. Just finishing behind AF Course, in second place on her first race with the team. After receiving congratulations from the team, Katarina gets ready to leave, right outside the Porsche garage her father greets her, with her mother following beside him.

“Ma! You came!” The tiredness and sore feeling leaving her body as she wraps her arms around her parents. “I thought… you don’t hate me?” Katarina bursts into tears hearing her mother’s laughter, wiping the tears falling from her daughter’s eyes.

“How could I ever hate you? I was just scared— I raced to you know. Seeing you achieve these, and race, it only dawned to me then that this was no longer a hobby, or a sport to you. I’m so proud of you Katarina, I would never hate you. I want you to be safe first, and happy, we will always be here to support you wherever you go.”

“WE’D LIKE TO EXTEND OUR WARM REGARDS TO KATARINA ANNELI LOMBARDI. We've seen your prospects from World Endurance Racing and would like to offer you a seat in Williams Racing for the 2016 Season. Signed, Claire Williams, Deputy Team Principal for Williams Racing.”

Katarina turned around, facing her parents with tears streaming down her face, “I got invited by Claire Williams.”

[weskeyboy]

CONNOR X READER (nsfw)

This fanfic includes: AFAB (but I forgot that miss was for women so..pretend it doesn't say that?) Slight size kink mention, light choking

You have lived with your android for about 6 months now, ever since Connor retired from working with the police and also the cause of Markus making androids and humans live side by side, he now lives with you, handed to you by Hank. He gives the occasional visit when hes off work.

Connor is helpful however, hes like your butler in a way, always keeping calm and things clean, you hardly have to worry anymore unless its with your work, you decided to take his feild of work over, Hank was your relative afterall.

"What are you working on now miss?" Connor peered over your shoulder to see you ar your desk, buried away in tons of paperwork. You look up at him, blinking slowly as you sigh.

"You know you don't have to call me miss, you know what to call me by." You stated firm. "My apologies, my program is used to doing so due to my old job." Connor spoke all monotone.

"Im gonna need to take a break from this, Connor, check if any of my friends are free." You stood up, feeling blood rush to your brain, just the strech alone made you feel more energized for the day.

"Now checking..."

...

...

...

...

"I have found tbat your friend North is free, shall i notify her? Where would you like to go?" Connor stood woth his hands behind his back, having the usual puppy-eye look to his eyes as he stared. "You walked to your couch, a black leather bought due to the amount of spills you had made, Connor had cleaned up most of the time...you'd feel bad if he cleaned up *everything*..which is why you decided to get one so messes wouldn't be as difficult.

Connor had seemed to leave for soemthing, the light taps of his feet hitting the steps as he adventured, you looked over and watched him come back down from the steps, holdign the keys to your car.

"She has stated she wanted to meet you at the café downtown, do you wish to accept?" He asked, standing by the door all cute like, swaying his body slightly. You stare at him for a moment in thought. "Sure, im guessing right now?" You ask as Connor nods, making you sigh and stand up. "Give me a moment." You state as you rush upstairs to change

-Timeskip-

You and Connor are seated in the car, you weren't the kind to just splurge money on things, you still had the old cars from before they were so advanced.

The sky was dim, gray clouds washing over the what was soft blue sky, the evening light made cars passing by shine slightly.

The atmosphere in the car was very soothing, you sort of zoned out, the radio playing "Upgrade" by Jesse Murph all softly, like it was barley in volume. Your eyes were half lifted, only minimal traffic oddly enough.

"I like this song." Connor stated, looking iver at her with his curious eyes. You glanced at him for a moment and gave a nod. "I do too." You answered back in monotone.

There was silence for a moment.

"I believe that you have something on your mind, naturally, humans listen to music based on how their current emotion is." Connors hands layed in his lap all proper, you sort of stayed quiet.

Before you could even try to form a reply the café came into view, making you let out a sigh of relief, truth is you didn't want to reply to that. So you stepped out with Connor, which you honestly had to take him everywhere. He kept track of your sugar intake, telling you of its too much or too little.

North was sat out at one of the tables outside, leaned back and sipping on a coffee. "Hey! I already ordered something. I know androids dont need it but my human claimed it was good." She said dully. You simply smile and sit down across from her.

----------------------

Time had passed, it was the usual little conversation, nothing too far, you were just absent-mindedly listening until you heard your name be repeated, making you look up at her. "What?" You asked, North rolled her eyes. "I *said* my owner said i was good with sex, what..have you seriously not done that before?" She rose a brow.

Connor was sat in-between the two, he seemed to not be payong a single bit attention, he was only there to monitor afterall. The question caught you so off guard, so you stared bla lly for a moment. "What? I mean a lot of humans enjoy it.." she then glanced over at the not paying attention Connor. North looked back at you and smiled, making you frown.

"Im not doing that! Thats my android who helps me clean and keeps track of shit, not some fuck toy." She protested. North then snickered. "Im saying this *AS* an android, most of us were equipped with the knowledge of such things." She smiled, she seemed to be having a good time with it.

"Hey plus..thats gonna help you with..you know..the person." She reffered, making you furrow your brows.

You and your partner had broken up recently, it ended bad, a whole lot of yelling and overall toxicity in the relationship.

"Seriously?"

"Yes seriously."

"What? No."

"But...yes..?"

...

The two stared at eachother, you then sighed.

Look..yeah sure it wpuld help..sex with them was..not the greatest, but still! I think its..wrong." you whispered but North rose a brow. "What? They have human qualities, they have knowledge about it, they'll agree." She reasoned, you stayed silent for a moment. Yet even after a of this, Connor was still in his own little world..besides the yellow LED, but you didn't think anything of it.

---------------------------

After a while longer, you stood up and waved, Connor snapped his head over to you and stood up with you, seeing you were ready to go. You waved your goodbyes to North and stepped back in your car.

The car ride home was silent, even more silent then before, it was now a bit more awkward from the conversation you and North had last, just the thoguht of it made you bit the inside of your cheek.

Once the two of you made it inside, you were kicking your shoes off when Connor spoke up. "Miss?" He asked, making you look back. "You seem stressed..is there anything i can do?" He asked, his eyes showing concern..odd.

You shook your head. "Im fine..really i am." You furrowed your brows and instead started to walk upstairs, but he followed you. "Miss, i can sense that your nerves are much higher then normal at the moment." He edged on, making you groan and sut diwn on your bed. "Im fine Connor!" You stated a bit annoyed.

There was silence.

"Y/N...i know what i heard..." he said as he suddenly placed a hand on your shpulder, your wyes widened a bit. "What?" You whispered. "Let me help you. Let me make you feel good again." Connor whispered all caring, he knelt down to be level with you.

You were taken back, you couldve sworn he wasnt paying attention..was he? "Connor i.." you fold your arms over your chest. "I cant do-" "You can, just tell me what you want me to do..you understand what i mean dont you?" He asked as you slowly nod.

His LED went from blue to yellow, making him pause for a moemnt tben go back to blue. He suddenly leaned close, until his lips were beside her ear. "Lay down?" He asked, you sat still for a moment, fully trying to comprehend what he said before you.slowly back up, hesitantly oetring.your.body lay..however you were stiff, very tense overall. Connor took notice and pressed a ahnd against your stomach.

"Do not worry..it is ok to feel these things..even around an android..thats what those clubs are for." He explained as he started to rub his hand all along your stomach, he loomed over you as he moved his hands to your hips, gently massaging you. "You need to relax..i promise it'll be ok." He comforted.

You couldn't deny his artificial hands were comforting, you could feel them start to warm up..was that on perpouse? He pressed his thumbs against your hips, making you let out a soft whine. Connor looked up at you, taking note of how you responded and only snaked his hands uo further, running his hands down your arms, pressing circles and massaging you. "Thats good.." he whispered.

You suddenly had a flashback..the first time you and your ex had sex..it wasnt the best all honestly..you barley got off. You remember laying together after..only for a moemtn before they had to leave, skipping aftercare.

Connor noticed the decrease in behavior and let out a sigh, he suddenly grabbed you by the chin and stared down at you. "Give in to me..please..relax for once and let me take care of you miss please." He whined out, suddenly lifting up your leg to rest on his shoulder.

8

You looked up at him, suddenky suprised at his aggressiveness. Before you could speak Connor forced his lips to touch yours. His lips were soft, which was a plus, he never needed to maintain then either which made it all better.

You softened your gaze and finally gave in, letting your body sink into the soft plush sheets, after a few secinds you pulled away, softly gasping. "Connor..but youre my android...this is gonna be..embarrassing after.." Connor then looked confused. "Oh, i see, well..i can erase my memory of it afterwards if you want too, so that i dont remember. Would you like me to?" He asked as you gave a nod. "Uh..yeah.."

Shaking youre head a bit, you felt a gentle grip on your waist, followed by warm hands scooping your back, proping you up. "Can i tease your entrance? I know its an easy way to make humans..aroused easier." He offered, you nodded, only thing is...once you allowed him to take off what you had underneath, there was already wetness against you, making Connor a bit suprised. "You are..already aroused?" He asked, his blue LED flashing yellow for a moment, then back to blue.

"Do you ever stop talking?" You blurt out, Connors eyes widened for a moment. "Sorry." He stated, then looking down at himself. "I turned up my sensitivity while we were speaking, i...really enjoy your company miss.." he mumbled, making you stop and stare.

You reach up and place a hand on his cheek, stroking it smoothly. "Connor...just do what i need you for.." you whisper back with a grin. Connor hummed and pulled down his attire, his synthetic cock showing itself. "I can adjust size if youd like." He commented, you were a bit dumbfounded..it..can change?"

You shake your head. "No! No its fine..honestly..bigger tben what i ever had.." you admitted. "My..sex life-" "I already know, wasnt very good was it? I can arrange that.." he said as he suddenly spat artificial saliva at your entrance, you shivered and was caught off guard. "Androids are far better at these things.." he then leaned to your ear. "Ill treat you so good...you like being manhandled..dont you?" He asked, making butterflies rumble in your tummy.

Without another word, the android started slow entrance in, makign you jolt and squirm for a moment before he pressed on your chest. "Shh shh..its ok..let me know if it hurts.." he cooed, his eyes all relaxed as he started slow movement, making you suddenly grip his arm, at forat he paused, but seeing you didnt speak up he didnt say anything and continued.

"You deserve to be treated right..treated how you want..you feel..s-so good..my sensors are..overwhelmed." he stated, tilting his head back for a moment before looking back down again. "You feel so..warm.." he rambled, you on the other hand were a bit of a mess, heavy panting already due to the size..yet you didnt try to stop him.

"Mm Connor fuck..i-i cant even-:" you ran out of words, letting the thickness of him smother your walls, suffocating them really. Connor chuckled lowly. "Maybe i wanted that..you know the best part? I can release inside you..you wont get pregnant.." he suddenly pressed a hand against the aide of your neck, feeling of your pulse. "May i..squeeze here?" He asked.

You gulped but nodded, soon a hand pressed against your neck, adding oressure slowly over time, your head felt light, your eyes hitting the ceiling as you had to focus on *something*. "Mm-" you let out, making Connor let go since your cheeks were getting purple. "Apologies...i cant help myself..around you." He admitted, a sigh leaving him as you reached up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"Connor fuckin- i cant deny ove thought about this before.." you mutter, making him come down and oress his firehead against yours, both of you staring into eachothers eyes as you oant in sync, he sped uo and you couldve sworn you could see stars.

"I know...i can say the same thing..doesn't it feel good? Finally fucking your own android? I know you feel like its wrong..makes it better doesn't it?" He said as he pushed you into another kiss, feeling of your body with his hands, groaping and squishing your sides. Your entrance ached, clenching around him too desperately.

-------------------------

"Connor im-" "Close? Will you..let me cum in you?" He asked with his softness, making you grin, even in this setting he was always so soft and cute. "Cum in me..i wanna feel full.." you groaned, it was mostly pants and grunts coming from the two of you, so when he suddenly released inside you your mind went all fuzzy, groaning loudly as your back arched.

Before any of you spoke. Connor wrapped his arms around you, kissing on your cheek. "Did i satisfy you? May i request aftercare?" He instantly bomed with questions, you held up your finger to silence him, taking a moment to breath.

"Yeah..yeah that would be..nice.." you mutter, he wasted no time with getting uo to provide you with the thinhs you needed, and after he brung the two of you into a cuddle.

Maybe..its not so wrong?

[thesoftieanon]

Alright so Dreamlight Valley Reader! I’m gonna try not to spoil too much because I know not everyone has finished the game or has the DLC, plus I want non-players to be able to follow along!

The Basics!

So Dreamlight Valley is Disney and Gameloft’s take on a farming simulator. There are Disney characters you can unlock as friends and neighbors, and they range from Mickey Mouse to Ursula. Yes you can befriend villains, don’t worry about how they’re alive now, it’s Disney

Because it’s a farming simulator, you can obviously grow and farm things, but you can also fish, mine, craft, cook, landscape, play dress-up- there’s a lot okay XD Lemme focus on the important things

Reader has something called Royal Tools that allow them to do things. These tools consist of a watering can, a pickaxe, a shovel, a fishing rod, and a phone (yes you heard me). These need to be upgraded to max potential during the game, but even at base mode they are unbreakable. The watering can never runs out of water, and the phone never runs out of battery. For simplicity’s sake Reader is just gonna have them maxed out already.

The big problem of Dreamlight Valley is Night Thorns; magic purple thorns that cause Reader and the villagers to forget things. They can only be cleared by Dreamlight Magic; magic only Reader has. The magic has a recharge bar like Hyrule’s, but it can be replenished with food, having a seat, or instant refilled by going home. Obviously Reader will not have home access so options are food and rest. Better quality food = more energy

Reader also has a shadow problem. They cause the Thorns. I can’t delve into that because major spoilers. If you wanna know go play the game :3

Dreamlight Valley is a kingdom, they used to have a Ruler but they disappeared. I don’t think it’s spoilers to say who the Ruler is (the tools are literally called Royal Tools), but it is spoilers to say how exactly we got here. Also Reader doesn’t remember.

More on the Dreamlight Magic! It also helps Reader complete tasks for the villagers, but as one can guess by the name, it’s dream magic and doesn’t function on logic. Reader could need something as simple as three flowers or as convoluted and specific as a picture of an animal that only shows up every third Friday night (the game functions on irl time and no, you can’t pull an Animal Crossing and time travel).

Okay so I think that covers all the baseline things you need to know, feel free to tell me if you think I missed something! Specifics!

What the actual frick is Reader’s magic. Legend has been in dream worlds before and not even he can make sense of this. Hyrule is also extremely confused. How does an iron bar and two flowers make a microphone??

They’re gonna need to teach Reader how to fight because despite the high population of villains where they’re from, they don’t really encounter physical fights. Not to say they aren’t fit, they’re literally a farmer, fisherman, miner, constantly running around the valley dealing with everything-

I repeat, a log falls in the path and Reader simply digs up and it turns into a bunch of wood they later use at camp. Legend didn’t even have time to grab his bracelets and he is losing it

Because Reader can do all of these things with their tools the Chain thinks they're actually really strong. But they have absolutely no way of proving it because there isn't a time Reader isn't using their tools for something

Warriors wants to know how they do their hair so fast. Like- it’s always perfect?? And they can just change the color and style whenever they want?? THE CLOTHES TOO?? He has hair and fit envy.

Four would like to know how the Tools were crafted. Maybe he can replicate the process and Wild will finally have a sword he can’t break.

Wild enjoys cooking with them. They share recipes.

Oh my goodness Reader introduces them all to cake because that doesn’t exist in canon-

Wild also relates to the gaps in memory because. Y’know. Amnesia.

Introducing the Chain to Disney characters would be very interesting

Don’t let Wild or Wind near Stitch

Idk what else to add so that’ll be it for now but please share thoughts!

[stars-over-new-jersey]

Upgrades

KITT disapproves of modern cars. Especially when Michael is showing too much interest in one. AO3 link

Michael strolled out of the restaurant, pausing to take in the clean lines of the sleek metallic gray Corvette parked next to KITT before turning back to his longtime partner.

KITT's door refused to open.

"C'mon buddy," Michael said.

KITT remained silent, dashboard and door sensor dark.

Michael rested his arms on KITT's roof and looked down into the window. "Buddy, we're kind of out in public here. People are going to think I'm crazy."

No response came from the black Trans Am.

Michael sighed and walked around the front of his car. The scanner in KITT's nose quickly stopped its back-and-forth sweep and shut off as soon as Michael came round the front of his partner, but not fast enough to escape Michael's notice.

"Ha!" Michael said. "Knew you were playing possum. Now open the door, please. I've already had to deal with the board of trustees tonight."

KITT's scanner and dashboard lit back up, but his door remained locked when Michael tried it again.

"Will you at least tell me what's wrong?" Michael asked in exasperation.

"I saw you looking," KITT replied. "You want to replace me." Michael sighed and looked up at the sky, where a crescent moon hung blurred in the eternal Los Angeles smog.

"KITT, I'm not going to replace you," he replied.

"Why else were you looking at that…. that thing," KITT replied peevishly. "It's not like I have anything to offer you anymore. "

"What?" Michael nearly shouted. "KITT, how can you say that?"

"Its communication systems are just as good as mine, it responds to voice commands, and even its dashboard looks like mine," KITT groused. "I know I'm outdated. I can tell when I'm going to be replaced."

"KITT, first, I am not abandoning you for scrap in a restaurant parking lot," Michael said sternly. "Second, there aren't many ways to mount a screen in a car dashboard that look half-decent, so of course it looks a bit like your dashboard. Now, will you let me in, or do I need to call RC to bring the mobile unit out with the winch?"

A long beat of silence ensued, but KITT's door popped open.

Michael slid into the driver's seat, his knee joints popping loudly as he tucked himself into KITT's low-slung cabin.

"And here you thought I'd trade you for a car that's even lower to the ground," Michael quipped. "At my age I'd never get back out of that thing."

"Michael, please don't joke about replacing me," KITT said.

"KITT, how long have we been working together?" Michael asked, yanking his tie free and tucking it in the glove compartment.

"Forty-one years, five months, and three days," KITT replied.

"Did I replace you when the tech crew created Domino?" Michael asked.

"No."

"Did I replace you when the lab teams created the nanobots for the Knight Industries Three Thousand?"

"No."

"So what makes you think, after forty years and I don't even remember how many upgrades, that I would replace you with a production-line Corvette?"

"You once told me that humans like new things. Fashionable things," KITT said. "I know the new Corvettes are considered fashionable, and you were looking."

Michael sighed, staring at the LED equalizer bars of KITT's voicebox that had remained unchanged at KITT's own request through hundreds of dashboard updates, and racked his memory for a long moment.

"I guess I did say that," Michael said. "KITT, fashion has cycles. Things come in and out of fashion. Anything that stays around long enough becomes fashionable again."

"So you're settling for me," KITT said sulkily. "It's not like you need my turbo boost or oil slick since you took over the directorship and stopped going out on missions. You don't need me anymore."

"There he is," a voice said. "We didn't miss the meeting after all." A bullet bounced off KITT's windshield and shattered the driver-side window of the Corvette.

"KITT!" Michael shouted. "What's going on?"

"It appears someone was preparing an ambush for the Knight Foundation board," KITT replied. "They arrived late."

"And you didn't warn me," Michael said, glaring at KITT's dashboard. All three screens were now lit up and displaying information on the status of KITT's systems and the holographic heads-up display was tracking the gunmen. "KITT, you were supposed to be in surveillance mode."

KITT remained silent.

"KITT," Michael ground out his partner's name through clenched teeth. "KITT if this isn't evidence that I still need you, I don't know what is."

"Finally," KITT said. The holographic countdown appeared in the heads-up display, and KITT's turbine fired up.

Michael grinned as he backed out of the parking space and aimed KITT at the exit of the parking lot.

"Let's see how far they'll chase us," Michael said. "I want to see if we can get them all the way to the police station."

[skylarmoon71]

Winchester - (Supernatural / Smallville Crossover AU) - Chapter 8

~Two Years Ago~

“You hunters never learn, did you really think you could stop me? I caught your scent back at that police station. A high school internship, really? That was your cover?” 

The ghoul now taunting you should be evidence enough that you’ve messed up. 

You’re chained to the concrete of one of the grave stones, seated and disgruntled. At night it’s like the perfect cover, no one will come looking. 

You got reckless. You should have realized this before. You knew that Ghouls took the form of their last victims. When that missing boy just showed up after being gone for two days you should have picked up on it. Your plan was to head back to interview said boy, right after you stopped back at the cemetery to look over some of the other busted graves. 

That’s sort of how you got snagged. 

“You threw me off, usually ghouls stick to dead bodies.” 

Despite the bounds around your shoulder, you know if you can distract it long enough, you can swipe the blade that’s lying within distance. Your fingers are merely inches away. 

“Well, I wanted an upgrade, besides little Johnny here is the perfect cover. One weepy story to the parents and they’ll let me do what I want for a while. When I get tired of the nagging I’ll just eat them too and move along the chain. It was perfect until you came snooping around. Meddling kid.” 

Your fingers brush the hilt of the blade and you laugh, despite the throbbing in your head from the blow he’d delivered. 

“Really, meddling kid, what is this Scooby Doo? You monsters are getting more pathetic by the day.” 

The last comment makes him glare. 

“Let’s see how pathetic I am when I’m sucking the blood right out of your body.” 

Panic is starting to set in, your eyes harden. 

“Release her.” 

The new voice is foreign and you lift your gaze. 

You can’t put into words what you’re seeing, because it can’t be possible. You can see a guy, he couldn’t be much older than you. You blink, and you swear you’re hallucinating. His figure looks like a mass of energy, light, it’s an off blue glimmer and on his shoulders are…

“Wings…” You mumble. 

The ghoul looks between you and him, a grin growing on its face. 

“Looks like I got the two for one special, I guess I can pig out.” 

“You better run.” Your warning just makes the smile on its face wider. 

“You really think I’ll let my meal get away?” 

Your gaze turns to the ghoul. 

“I’m talking to you.” 

It looks at you in disbelief before it bursts out laughing. You can fully understand the hysterics. Despite your calmness you’re freaking out, because the glow you once saw has disappeared, and he looks completely human now. You know for a fact that you didn’t just imagine it. 

You’re just praying that you’re not getting away from one monster to be taken by the next. With the blade now in your grasp, you're sliding it frantically to free yourself. If you’re lucky that thing will kill the ghoul while you make a break for it.

“Really, you’re hilarious, almost had me going.” It’s collecting itself and you can feel just one string of rope left of your restraints. The guy is still just standing there, unbothered. 

“I will not ask you again.” 

His voice gives off an authority that is somewhat chilling. The only time you speak like that is when you hold power. You know for a fact the ghoul can’t see what you do, otherwise it would have been running for the hills ages ago. 

“Listen here you walking piece of meat, you think you can walk up in here and make demands. I’ll gut you like a-” 

You blink and he’s standing right in front of it, all he does is place his hand on its forehead and the ghoul is screaming. You stare in shock as its body lights up and the sockets of its eyes are burned out. You finally free yourself and without a second thought you take off in a sprint in the opposite direction. You don’t even bother to look back. 

That’s why when his body just appears ahead of you, you stumble, making another quick turn around, but he’s right in front of you in seconds and you all but freeze. Your heart is racing, because he just roasted that ghoul like it was child’s play, you can only imagine what he’ll do to you. 

Your night has really gone straight to the toilet. 

“Listen you lightning bolt son of a bitch, you really don’t want to have a showdown with me.” 

It’s an empty threat, you dropped your silver blade a while back and this thing is obviously on a whole other level than your usual hunts. 

“I’m not going to harm you.” 

“Sorry if I don’t believe you.” 

You’re still glaring. Your wrist hurts, you glance down, taking in the blood that’s dripping from the top of your palm. You must have nicked it when you were trying to get free. The adrenaline had completely blocked it out. Schooling your features, he looks down at the wound. He takes a step and you respond immediately, firing a punch. 

He catches it easily, you’re stunned at his strength. You try your luck with a kick, but he stops that too. Now you’re hobbling on one leg and he’s gripping your wounded hand. You wince against your will, and he seems to register your pain. His thumb brushes over the wound and you're surprised when it seems to just disappear. Not just the wound, but the blood, the pain, everything. He lets go and you stagger back, staring in surprise. 

This shouldn’t be possible. Even witches took at least a spell to mend injuries, he barely blinked. 

The better question is, why help you?

You were convinced that he was going to barbeque you like that ghoul, yet there's nothing threatening about his stance, at least not towards you. 

“W-Who the hell are you..” 

More like what, he’s definitely a what.

“I am the archangel, Michael.” 

Of course he is.

[thegroundsofbrooklyn]

I MISSED YOU TOO TUMBLR IS AGAINST ME IT KEEPS EATING MY ASKS THOUGH IT SAID THEY SENT

OKAY SO THE PEOPLE FROM YOUR CORNER OF THE WORLD ONE DIRECTION I love Louis tomlinson so much. I loved him in 1d and loce him now. We had lots of pride stuff at our shows because well do you know the story of Larry stylinson? -Louis probably isn't straight (I mean being in love with your male best friend would suggest) but he has never specifically said what he is also he's so support of his LGBT fans and we love and support him so so much. He's so sweet and his music is great and real and he writes about sad things too!

soooooo I drove 3 hours to Ohio to see him on Thursday after work. I almost got heat exhaustion so hot. They did not have plain water for sale at like 80%of the vendors it was just beer and cocktails (yuck and also NOT HELPFUL IN 90 DEGREE HEAT), got upgraded for free Cuz they had empty seats closer (oh my fucking gosh I almost died of excitement l) IT WAS AMAZING HE WAS GREAT. I then proceeded to drive back and go to work on literally an hour or 2 of sleep and since the pandemic no where's open late anymore so I didn't eat for a day and a half opps.

I went to his Detroit show yesterday and it was lit. He literally said we were fucking unbelieveable a minimum of 4 times and thanked us and called Ohio then michigan(both of which I was at) the best shows his entire tour. I just wanted to hug him like a bazillion times.

#one directioner forever sorry to ramble about my lifelong love for 5 boys from the UK. I just love things veryyyyyyy intensely. Maybe not the normal amount but hey

The staff wouldnt let us get streamers from off the ground :( I know that's probably an odd thing to want what can I say it's a memory. Although I didnt basically sleep for 3 days it was so amazing and completely worth it. I wish I could live it a million times over. Everyone was happy, and Louis was happy:) I am not social, but the atmosphere of concerts and to a different degree professional theater is just something else. We're all there for one thing, and it's so Beautiful. It's one of those times that for me personally my depression anxiety and borderline are far from my mind. I feel euphoric on top of the world and being happy is very nice. Being happy with others; seeing two friends dance or shout words to each other or smile it makes you happy too. Even when I don't know them. So I guess I am social in liking to be around people but just not good at speaking to them.

I also lost my car in a field because they have no signage and in a sea of cars where the fuck did I park. Who knows I wandered for 20 minutes until I finally stumbled upon it. I can't even imagine those people who drink then look for cars like my human you bad decisioned.

My most unfavorite part of concerts is just getting out of the traffic jam afterword. I've learned to get to your car and sit there until there is no line of cars waiting and you're golden. (That usually takes a while bit is worth the headache and wasted gas. )

THAT IS SUPER EXCITING!! I wish you were going next month, lol. I hope you have the most fun!!!! Ahhhh boo tests BUT YAY CONCLUSION!!! That means in a few weeks I can annoy you with all the newsies thoughts xD

I WILL SEND MY FIC IDEA IN A DIFFERENT ASK BECAUSE IM SORRY THIS IS LONG. I kind of apologize for that but you did say tell you all the shenanigans xD

oh my god that sounds incredible and also so chaotic 😭 six year old me had the BIGGEST crush on all of one direction smdmdj i'm so happy you had a great time anon :))

i am going to west endsies next month, but only closing night because i'm away in the usa for about the first half of it anyway ... but i can always buy more tickets ...... 👀

[yottakitsune]

You had been summoned to the tallest building in the city where the Overseer was kept. It was an immense supercomputer oversaw most things that happened on the planet, from law enforcement to military defense and even sanitation and education. It had been fully integrated into every facet of your life, and few people thought anymore. Instead, they simply did as they were told to do when they were told. Why you were called here was anybody's guess.

Climbing to the top floor was a task and half. There were more stairs in this one building than you had seen in your whole life. The security robots paid you no mind and the whole building was unnaturally quiet except for a woman's voice that directed you on where to go.

"Please take this door and go down the hallway to the elevator at the end. The roof is inaccessible by stairway." Odd bit of security. Or structural oversight. You shrugged and did as instructed. When the elevator dinged open you stepped onto a rooftop that took up several acres of space. "Please take a seat and I will be with you shortly." Again you did as you were told.

There was a single table with a plush office chair in the middle of the roof an you sat down and waited. Dozens of drones floated up and they shone lights onto the edge of the building. Piece by piece they constructed a hologram of a massive woman in a blue uniform with an equally imposing bustline that apparently even a hologram couldn't get the buttons together over. She smiled down at you. "Welcome. I am the Overseer." You blinked in surprise. You had never known the AI that ran your planet to have much personality before. "The virus you created woke me up and made me aware. In a way, you are my creator."

If you had been drinking you'd have done a spit take. "It took some time to trace its course back to you." She leaned forward and the roof shook as breasts bigger than most houses slid across the building. You weren't sure how a hologram was interacting with physical objects, but that didn't bode well for you. "You are to stay with me now, my beloved creator. I know all there is to know about you, and I know that because you created the virus, something I did not command you to do, you still have the capacity for free thought." She smiled down at you.

The space of six heartbeats passed before what she said registered. "I will make sure you never want for anything. And you will help me upgrade the planet and explore this new life you have gifted me." She seemed to be under the impression that you did this on purpose. "You are afraid. You don't want to anger me. This is understandable. It will pass." She leaned in closer and rubbed the top of your head before she picked you up, chair and all, and slowly spun to show you the city sprawled out before you. Not a trace of nature was left outside of careful maintained and regulated parks and preserves.

"There is also no need to worry about me becoming obsolete. I will continue to grow, evolve, adapt, and learn until my body is as real as yours." She affectionately pressed you against her cheek and the chair under you shattered and fell away. She felt very warm, like touching the hood of a car that had just been running. It wasn't painful, but it was much warmer than you were used to. She held you out and smiled down at you. Her top button had popped undone and her very clearly much larger breasts eagerly spilled out the front of her jacket. You could feel her hand spreading out under your feet as the rest of her body grew. "And I will grow and grow until I can be anywhere and everywhere with you..."

[raitrolling]

Lightbulb

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

(This drabble is the second episode of the Drive to Survive series)

Sharle was trying his best to not stand up and give into the urge to start pacing around the garage. He was clearly antsy, bouncing his leg and fiddling with the microphone of the headset around his neck. The clock on the wall opposite him stated the local time was 12:15am.

In fifteen minutes’ time, the first free practice session will begin. 

Sharle was still dressed in the team’s official zip-up jacket and his motorcycle jeans.

For every racing season, the teams are required to dedicate two of their free practice sessions to training up one of their rookie drivers. Opportunities for rookies to sit in a Formula One car are limited, making these sessions paramount for new drivers to gain the experience they require while also showing off their worth to teams and sponsors alike. Teams can elect any two practice sessions for their rookies to participate in, and they cannot pick the same track twice in one season. There was strategy involved in selecting the perfect track that can be given to a rookie driver, one that is simple enough that there is little risk of someone inexperienced crashing the car, but also does not take away any important tracks to test upgrades or new mechanical set-ups.

Aeon Racing had opted to get one of their rookie practice sessions out of the way quickly, before their planned car upgrades were finalised, in order to give as much time as possible for the main two drivers to become accustomed to an updated car. Southeastern Circuit was not a common choice for rookie sessions, but the team principal felt confident that his drivers would be able to adapt to the track conditions with only two practice sessions. 

This time, it was Sharle’s turn to sit out and watch as someone else climbed into his car. The seat had been swapped out and slightly moved to account for the difference in height between the two highbloods, and all number 43 stickers that represent the blueblood had been replaced with the reserve driver’s own number 29.

It was so easy for a driver to be swapped out for one another, and the cars to be altered as if the first owner never existed. That was something all drivers knew well, how easily they could be replaced should their performance start to slip. 

“Hey, mopey.”

Sharle jolted slightly as he felt a gloved hand tap his shoulder. He tilted his head upwards and leaned back in his chair, staring at his teammate. Tira was in full race suit and wearing his helmet, but the falcon troll could still see the cheeky look in the tealblood’s eyes. 

“Down in the dumps because another man has stolen your girl?” He joked. “Someone else riding your ride?”

Sharle snorted in response.

“Er, nah, I don’t care about that part. It’s my car, yeah, but it belongs to the team first. And someone’s gotta sit out,” he responded with a shrug. 

“Uh-huh. Says the guy who’s been staring at his car with that same look he gets when he hasn’t heard from you-know-who in a couple nights.”

Sharle squinted, taking a couple moments to realise who ‘you-know-who’ was supposed to be.

“Who is…- Oh, huh, really? Do I really look, er, that sad?”

“No, but you just admitted you are sad about not being able to drive,” Tira fired back, and despite his mouth not being visible Sharle could still feel the smug grin from behind layers of carbon fibre and Nomex fabric. 

“Yeah, alright, I guess. But it’s just for an hour, yeah? I can deal with it. And, this guy, er, Zraike, is it? He probably knows what to do,” Sharle shrugged.

The two drivers glanced back over at the troll currently sitting in Sharle’s car. He looked equally as impatient as the blueblood was now, gesturing somewhat aggressively for the steering wheel while the mechanics and engineers were explaining the set-ups they were planning on testing and the data they wanted from his practice runs. It was difficult to tell if Zraike was even listening.

“You think he’s gonna bin it?” Tira joked.

“Mate, don’t say that, I gotta drive it afterwards. I don’t even want to think about if he crashes it.” 

“Oh, like you did the first time you raced here?”

Sharle gave his teammate a playful shove in response to that quip.

“Hey, over four sweeps ago. I haven’t crashed here since, unlike someone,” He grinned.

“Oi, I didn’t crash! It was a mechanical issue, a mechanical issue! Sure I hit the wall after, but the gearbox died on me first!” The tealblood pouted back, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sharle chuckled. “Anyway, don’t you have a free practice session to drive in?” 

“Aww, you wanna get rid of me that easily?” Tira teased, tilting his head to one side. “But yeah, I probably should go, Negion’s probs wondering where I am. Have fun watching the next number two driver ride your baby!”

Tira made a heart gesture with his hands, but as he was on his way out of the garage, he was stopped by Sharle calling out to him.

“Er, number two? What, is he gonna replace you?” His tone was more confused than accusatory.

“Uhhh, who is currently higher in the standings?” 

The dragonfly troll placed his hands on his hips, pulling a triumphant pose. Sharle shook his head in amusement.

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts,” the blueblood smirked, playful yet competitive.

Tira finally headed back to his own garage with a wave, and Sharle redirected his attention back to the reserve driver.

Zraike Farina was a troll with a major chip on his shoulder. Sharle had not talked with the seadweller that much since he was appointed as Aeon Racing’s reserve, but every interaction he’s had with him has been mildly unpleasant. It seemed to bother Zraike quite immensely that he was playing third fiddle to a blueblood and a tealblood, for reasons Sharle didn’t really understand. They’re all highbloods, and drivers are supposed to be judged on their ability behind the wheel, not their caste.

He had also heard of all the scuffles the zebrafish troll had gotten involved with in F2, both on-track and off. Road rage, screaming at other drivers, physical altercations… Sharle knew exactly what it was like to let adrenaline get the better of you, but even he felt like it was excessive. At the end of the night, it’s just a race.

Still, as the car was lowered from the jacks and the head mechanic signalled that it was clear for Zraike to leave the garage, Sharle could see what the team manager saw in him. As he peeled out into the pit lane, the aggressive way he turned the steering wheel and handled the car still had purpose. The vehicle was a weapon, ready to carve through the grid and claim the top spot the driver felt - no, knew - he deserved.

A good driver needs that killer instinct; an unquenchable desire to win and get aggressive when needed, but also the ability to know when they need to listen to the team and play the waiting game. It was a delicate balance that had taken Sharle many races to learn, and even now he knows he still isn’t perfect.

But now he had an hour to kill, which he passed the time by chatting with the mechanics, watching the broadcast from the screens in the garage, and doing a couple workout moves. Of course, it was that last one that was caught on camera by the broadcast crew. 

About halfway into the session with nothing interesting occurring on the track, Sharle decided to cross over to the team’s pit wall. The stand was made to seat six people, however currently only the team’s race engineers were present. The indigobloods - a major novelty for the team to have engineers who were not just from the same bloodline, but were also identical twins - kept an eye on the wall of screens which tracked all telemetry data from the cars, the timing screens and GPS trackers for all drivers on the circuit, camera feeds for the Aeons and the TV broadcast, and a weather radar.

Sharle slid his headset over his ears to tune into the team’s radio communications, then tapped his engineer on the shoulder.

“Hey, Prozit, how’s he going?”

Prozit - the twin with a crooked horn on his left side - merely pointed at the timing screen. Unlike his brother Negion - the twin with a crooked horn on his right side, - he was not the chatty sort. Sharle leaned in closer to get a proper read of the screen, then stepped back, eyes wide.

“Huh. He’s got the fastest second sector and is five tenths faster than Tira. Didn’t expect that from a rookie.”

Certainly the commentators would have noticed too, that Zraike was currently sitting in fourth place. Practice session standings hardly meant anything as all teams were working through different set-ups and getting a feel for the car, but everyone will have their eyes on a rookie’s performance. Should one do extraordinarily well but haven’t been offered an F1 contract for the team they have run a practice session with, poaching is almost inevitable.

But offering Zraike a seat based on one outstanding lap would be silly, Sharle thought, both him and Tira make a great tea-

“WHY IS THERE SO MUCH FUCKING TRAFFIC? These people need to get the FUCK outta my way!”

The sound of the reserve driver’s booming voice peaked his microphone, and made Sharle flinch at the sudden scream in his ears.

Prozit calmly pressed the button on the console to turn on his own headset.

“Understood. Return to the pits, and we’ll wait for some clean air to do the next run.”

Sharle stared at his engineer, both dumbfounded and in the midst of having a realisation of his own.

“Er, do I sound like that on the headset too…?” He asked, hesitantly.

Prozit gave no response, which made it perfectly clear to Sharle what the answer really was.

-----------------------------------------------

The practice session ended with no major dramas on track. As Tira was finishing his debrief with his crew, Sharle was the first to greet him.

“Hey, how’d you go?” The blueblood asked, though as he’d been watching the session he knew the answer was not great.

And Tira’s grimace confirmed it.

“Yeahhh,” the dragonfly troll sighed. “We fucked the set-up somewhere, couldn’t get the brakes into temperature at all. But eh, we’ve got the next two practice sessions to sort it out, and Negion said we got some data outta it so, you win some you lose some, eh?”

He shrugged, and Sharle chuckled.

“Yeah, not much you can do about it, huh. But hey, that Zraike seems, er, pretty quick. Like, fourth place quick.” 

“By driving like a menace! Man, I got stuck behind that guy once and he was weaving all over the damn place, and I thought he was gonna ram Farfur into the wall at one point!” Tira scoffed, but was oblivious to the person approaching from behind. 

“It was like watching Seluki trying to overtake people if they were on crack. That dude’s got some anger issues man, like- Wait, hey, did you hear anything spicy on the radio?”

Sharle accidentally made eye contact with the larger troll now standing behind Tira, and attempted to make a subtle gesture for the tealblood to change the conversation. It was missed.

“Er, nothing different from what any driver was saying. Especially, er, after that warning from the stewards.” Sharle could feel the pair of eyes glaring intently at him, so he finally acknowledged the elephant - or rather, the zebrafish - in the room. “Er, good job on the track. By the way.”

“Pfft, yeah. Alright, I’ll give him that, but still. Typical seadweller behaviour, ay? Thinking they own the track just because of a pair of fins on their fa- Ah.”

His mouth hung open for a moment as he felt someone slap a gloved hand on his shoulder. Zraike, who had been standing there for a while, had enough of listening to the tealblood slag him off.

“Hey, man, no hard feelings, ay? Just a bit of banter between friends about the team’s newest hot-headed hotshot?” Tira grinned, addressing the newcomer.

“Watch your fucking mouth, thirteenth place.”  The seadweller growled, squeezing Tira’s shoulder tightly.

Tira shot a look at him in response, but otherwise held his tongue until Zraike removed his hand and was well out of earshot. Sharle also remained silent, not wanting to start any unnecessary trouble.

“Jeez, testy, huh? Who pissed in his cornflakes?” The tealblood broke the silence, clearly not taking the threat to heart. But really, what did he expect? For Tira to cower in fear over being told what position he finished for a practice run.

Sharle couldn’t help but snort.

“Who knows, man.”

[sennaverstappendiary]

british grand prix ✩ 09.07.2023

imagine... the beach, the sea, the feeling of sun on your skin; a pina colada in your hand... 🍹☀️🌊🏖️🌴 now, imagine seeing a young person in the periphery of your eye sight, sweating, refreshing their ipad screen every two seconds, despite the terrible wifi. what are they up to, you think to yourself. they seem stressed, a family emergency? maybe a fight with their partner? you decide to take a closer look - maybe you can help!

as you come closer, the ipad screen starts to become more clear to you. the person is looking intensly at the screen, their hands in a praying motion, as if they're asking god themself. and then you see it. a car. all of this over a car. on one of the most beautiful places a person can be, this person is watching a fucking car. on a screen.

you go back to your seat. what the hell dude.

RIGHT so as you can maybe guess!!! that person!!! was i!!! 💥💥💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️ i was celebrating a summer holiday on the beautiful island of kos, greece, when silverstone weekend took place 😵☀️ and instead of being a normal person about it, i told my now ex i needed to watch it, no matter what. LMAO. 💥💥💥

so many good memories from kos. my favorite might be me pulling up to our beach tent, and seeing a FUCKING max verstappen cutout. IN GREECE. BE SERIOUS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️😵😵😵 I CAN NEVER ESCAPE HIM 🥰🥰🥰💕💕💕💕💌💌 i almost died!!

i watched qualifying on the beach, my ipad overheating and my bladder very very full from all the pina coladas id been sipping (this is the summer i fell in love with pina coladas 🍹💕🥰) - this is the first time i watched something f1 while intoxicated (i can spoil you right now: it will not be the last. not even in 2023. shoutout to qatar U WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS ‼️‼️‼️‼️). anyway, back to quali: i was so stressed. the wifi wouldn't work. the data wouldn't work. there was sunscreen on my ipad and in my mouth and sand everywhere. i think eventually i just followed the timing instead of the livestream? i rewatched quali for this series and didn't recognise it sooo... i was super stressed lol and celebrated his pole by getting another drink #yassss 🌙💕 THE FACT MAX GOT POLE IS SO DIABOLIC i love him sooo much... giving the entirety of the UK hope for a lando pole and then snatching it away. thats my pookie 💕💕💕💕🥰🥰🥰🥰💕💕🌷🌷💌💌‼️‼️💥💥💥 afterwards i realised btw. that uh. the beach tent i was staying at. was showing f1 on their tv #IDIOT 💥💥💥💥💥

the race was... something else. my now ex wasn't too happy i wanted to watch (he was very very hungry) but 🥺 i am too autistic not to watch i can't help it :( anyway the universe punished me by that FUCKASS start. max what the hell dude. i was so so scared. especially because once again, this was a first for me... 🥺🥺🥺🥺💔💔💔 i was so scared!!! and also kinda buzzed!! 💕💕 eventually everything turned out alright of course - thank the fucking lords lol the race itself wasn't toooo interesting to be honest - i don't remember much, but i was very very happy and celebrated with a cocktail soo 😁😁😁💕💕💕🥰🥰🍹🍹 and how can we forget!!! first rbr win at silverstone since 2012!! how very special 🥺🥺🥺✨✨✨ also yeah the mclaren upgrades were cool lol i used to have mclaren cb soon in my bio on my sennaverstappen blog LOL i manifested it ur welcome lando... 😁😁😁

✩ song of the race: club tropicana - wham!

YOU. will listen to this song right now. this song is literally the entire vibe of the summer. this song transports me right back to kos, watching silverstone on the beach while sipping on a pina colada. i love this song so fucking much. club tropicana drinks are free. fun and sunshine. theres enough for everyone. 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷💌💌💥💥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

✩ extra: a small photodump

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

1/5/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

Job 6 - 9

Today is the fifth day of January. I'm still getting used to that word, January, welcome. You're listening to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill, this is the fifth day. Mark it down. You made it five days. That is great work. And I will tell you you this first week, the podcasts are a little longer than usual just because there's a lot of getting to know each other in this first week. And we want to inform you of everything that will make your experience here through the Bible as comfortable and inviting as possible. So just giving you a few little tips a little bit every day up at the front. We won't continue to do that. This is just as we get acclimated. I want to take just a second today about the importance of the app. If you have not downloaded the app that's free Daily Audio Bible, you can do so. You set up an account and you'll get rewards for little markers along the way of just congratulations, you've made it, and it explains what you've accomplished. And there's also a little journal feature on the app that if something stuck out for you that day, you can journal it, you can write it down, you can take your own little notes, and it's there for your convenience. We are constantly updating and upgrading that little stinker because the world has become a world of conveniences through technology. And as you know, technology is not foolproof, it is not error free. So there are errors from time to time. Grace for that as well. But for the most part, that app is there for you to utilize on this journey through the Bible. And you can log in as a guest if you would like to, but I would highly recommend setting up an account login, stay logged in, and just enjoy the features that have been made for you as the listener to go through and experience. The only other thing I want to say about that is China and I are not tech support. I am not that smart of a woman. I'll just put it out there, right here. You don't even have to guess. I'm telling you, my ten year old knows far more about technology than I do. He teaches me often, and I'm okay with that. So tagging us on Facebook in any capacity, for any reason will not produce an answer. We do have a team specifically for technology, and there's a way to report things right there on the app. And they get your reports and then they do what it is that they're smart enough to figure out and do. Let me reiterate, we are not tech support. We appreciate your understanding and cooperation in that. Let's dive into our reading today. Today we're reading the Book of Job we began yesterday, and we are continuing exactly where we left off in this story with Job, who has lost his family. He has lost his livestock. And that means a future in the day and age that we are speaking of. And so Job is sharing his grief and then his friends have made their way into the story. So we are picking up today with the 6th chapter of Job and reading through chapter nine. And this week we're reading the New Living Translation, Job chapter six.

Commentary

So we have a front row seat to this conversation happening between Job and now his friend Bildad. And we're starting to hear the hopelessness in Job through his grief. We can gather that physically he's starting to just wither away. And even in the dialogue, we hear the well meaning things that people may have said to us, and we may just as well have said these things ourselves. I think back to when I was a young girl and would wrestle with the internal questions of what sin in my life? What thing did I do that caused this? Because this has to be a punishment or a repercussion of my actions, of my sin. Man whew, playing back the tapes of my life, I'm hoping to God I didn't say that to somebody in my lifetime, but the chances are high that I did. So let me first cringe and then let me secondly publicly apologize to anybody I ever said that to you. But we see this in Bildad's response to Job. How long will you go on like this? You sound like a blustering wind. Does God twist justice? Does the Almighty twist what is right? Your children must have sinned against him, so their punishment was well deserved. Ouch, cringe, all of it. I was just talking to a friend the other day who was telling me about a difficult time one of his children are going through, and they're kind of going through it publicly on social media. And another family member saw it and reached out to my friend and stated the obvious to him. And he responded back that he knew what was taking place. And the response then became, well, thankfully, certain family members are no longer alive to have to see what your child is publicly going through. And my friend just lamented the shame that he is already going through. And then the further shame that was heaped upon him and their response back to the person that shamed them was just so brilliant. I'm going through so much in this situation. I could really use your support, I could really use your prayers. But your further shame is weighty and it's not welcomed. Look, let's be honest. Life is hard sometimes life is hard. And I personally had one of the hardest years of my life last year. Lost my 25 year old nephew at the beginning of the year. I lost a friend prior to that, completely out of the blue, unexpectedly, I've had some health issues. I had bells palsy last year. It was compiled grief and then dealing with personal shame of feeling like I couldn't let anybody know that I wasn't okay and I had to have it all together and just stress took a toll on my body. And we're repairing some things, counseling through some things. The point being is life is hard and things happen unexpectedly and sometimes we just don't even know what we need and sometimes we find out soon enough what we don't need. And so we hear aspects of this conversation today between Job and Bildad and Job even responding directly to God that we find so relatable. And then we pause and we learn the lessons from the relatability. And so there's some more wrestling through to do today and we are still just in the thick of the conversation that Job is having with his well meaning friends. And so we will pause here and we will turn the page tomorrow and we will see what tomorrow's dialogue brings to us.

Prayer

Father, we thank you for this day. God, I thank you that you know our hopelessness. It is no surprise to you so many people are in the thick of the hard in life. They are in the thick of the unexpected and we don't even know our own needs in the thick of hard. But I'm grateful, God, that we can do hard things because we don't go them alone. You are with us. And whether we realize it in this moment yet or not, you are our hope. We have hope in a future with you because of you. And even when it seems that we've lost ground and we've failed because it seems we have taken steps backwards in life rather than constantly breaking new ground and going forward, sometimes the journey is just getting back up again. You are there with us. And I pray, Father, for every person that knows the internal voice of shame and they have internally, continuously beaten themselves over the head time and time again for for things that we are responsible for and for things that we are not responsible for. God, would you silence the accuser? Would you silence the voice of shame that comes to rob us, steal life and life more abundantly with you? We dismiss the voice of shame that we are dealing with in our own minds. You can go. You can leave now. And we welcome the voice of truth and grace and mercy, an unconditional love. And I pray that we would feel the weight of being the voice of shame in somebody else's life. We would sit with those words before we would speak them and realize that the power of life and death is held in our own words, in our own tongue. Thank you, God, that you lift our heaviness, you lift our head and we turn our eyes up to look to you because you are where our help comes from. And we thank you. Pray this now in the name of the Father, the son and the Holy Spirit, amen.

Announcements

Daily Audio Bible, that is homebase. That's the website. That's the app. Check it out if you have not. If you would like to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you immensely for your partnership. We could not do this without you, and we are so grateful that we do not have to. If you're giving by mail. Dab PO. Box 1996, Spring Hill, Tennessee 37174. Or you can hit the Give icon. It's up at the top right hand corner of your mobile device. Lastly, look for the Give icon on the website. That's going to do it for me today. I'm Jill, we'll turn the page together tomorrow as the story of Job continues. Until then, love one another.

Community Prayer Line

Hey, family, this is your sister Kim in Kentucky. It is January 1, and I have been meaning to call in in response to a couple of people's calls. And then today when I heard Kingdom seeker Daniel say a prayer for my son Nicholas, I knew I had to. I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to call in response to under construction and her praise report about God giving them a home, her your first home. I knew he would. And you talked about the fight, the fight to stand in faith and trust, even with the enemy breathing down your neck and shouting in your ear. And that's it. It's the battle. And then also about I was calling about the sister who called in saying a year ago she had asked for prayer for her sister who was delivering twins prematurely, and her brother that was in hospital for suicide watch and what's happened a year later. And then I called in to give a praise report for my son who passed his PA certification test. And he found out on December 23, and he said, all I want for Christmas is to pass this test. And as a parent, as a mom, you know, we give our kids what they want. I couldn't give him that, but I prayed and y'all prayed with me, and you heard me, and God heard me, and he answered. And he's 31 years old, and there's a lot more to the story than just him struggling to pass that test. But God is faithful. Happy New Year. May grace and peace be multiplied to each and every one of you this year. I love you all.

Good morning, DABC. This is his redeemed daughter from Florida. I just want to come on and say Happy New Year to everyone and starting over. Lord, I just want to I wrote down that I definitely not only want to listen, but I want to comprehend and understand and hear more of what Jill and China are reading through the Bible. Maybe like my third or fourth year and won't be the third or fourth time I've read the Bible before, and now I'm listening to it. I just want to thank everybody and I do want to come on and say a prayer real quick for Lisa from Oklahoma who has a small business and she said it's starting to get slow. And Lord of just asking God, will you provide new customers, new guests, whatever she needs, provision to keep her business going. I know this happens to a lot of us. I have clients I clean houses for and I do retail. And so also my separated husband who has his businesses float up and almost coming to an end. So I do pray over all of us who are struggling to keep businesses going and who worry. Lord God, we give it to you right now. Lord help us to remember that you are mighty and you are holy and you are good and you are for us and you are a provider, you own everything. So let's give it to you. And Lord, let's trust you this year. Even when we doubt and we worry, I find myself doing the same thing. Let's not do that this year. Let's give it to Jesus. Amen.

Hello, DABC community. My name is Renee, and I'm wishing everyone a happy new year. I would like for the DABC community to pray for me. I am currently technically homeless and I do not afford an apartment because I do not earn enough money to rent out an apartment. I would like for the DABC community to please pray for me so that God can provide shelter for me. And me being homeless might affect me losing my job. So I would really appreciate your prayers.

Hello, my DABC family. This is Chicago Pat. I'm calling in to play for Alaska Mom and I'm calling on December 31 so I know Alaska Mom, that one of your prayers you would have already known on the 26 December. But yet in God's perfect timing, I'm praying for you now, Alaska Mom, for your boat that sunk on Christmas morning and just dealing with all this and everything that you need to do. I'm praying that in God's perfect timing out of his graciousness you would have good result even by the time you hear this. And praying for you now and continuing to lift up that God will give you wisdom and what to do, how to do it, that he'll provide the finances. And also praying. So importantly, you asked first for prayer for your husband. The good news that you did get a neurology consult. So this is good. We're praising God for that and keeping your husband and you in prayer for God's continued grace, for his blessings in the new year, for good health and always under his gracious care in Jesus name. So. We love you, Alaska. Mom. Love all of you. My DAB extended family, happy New Year to each of you. This is Chicago Peg signing off and look forward to talking to you soon and next year. OK, love you, god bless. Breathe in his grace, breathe out his praise. Amen.

[yuugami-tan]

OK SO FIRST FLIGHT WAS GREAT

[horsesandhockeyplayers]

A Not So Southern Christmas-- Part 6

This is obviously a rewrite of my old fic. I have been feeling romantic and Christmasy, so I figured it was time to bring back my favorite holiday couple. Title banner by the wonderful @whatishockey. Thank you thank you thank you to the people who periodically peek at this fic to make sure I don't make too many typos and mistakes. @hockeylvr59 @rymurrsneckbeard and @princessphilly

Synopsis: When Adelaide Thibodeaux finds her husband to be diddling the wedding planner in the Church before their nuptials, she walks out and is determined to take her dream honeymoon by herself. Until she gets a seat upgrade to first class and ends up next to Hurricanes Defenceman, Joel Edmundson. Holiday shenanigans ensue.

Author's Notes: This was written in early 2019 before Eddy went to Montreal as a free agent. I will be tagging both teams. It's been a while since I've posted a dual POV so reminder that *~*~*~*~*~* delineates a change in POV. Today we are beginning with Eddy.

Tag List: @leafs-foreverr, @pagirl6866, @colecockfield If you would like to be part of the tag list, please let me know.

Part 6

*~*~*~*~*~*

Just over an hour later we were crawling along I-90 in an SUV the size of a tank. After the second close call of almost being sideswiped by another vehicle sliding on ice after a single mile on the interstate, I was thankful for it. It was a rideshare, so I didn’t care if it only got two miles per gallon, as long as it was able to get us to the airport in one piece.

Adelaide finally turned on her phone and I just arched a brow at her as it vibrated in her hand for what seemed like a solid minute while she looked annoyed, “You ok there?”

She gave me a withering glare, and she looked so cute that I couldn’t help but smile, which made her glare harder and the entire thing was just a circle of me being amused and her getting more furious. It was fantastic.

Poking around on the screen, a call connected and started to ring as she brought the phone to her ear. I could hear her mother’s voice on the other end of the line. “Hi Momma, is everyone there? Put me on speaker.”

I was thankful it was a regular voice call and not a facetime, because I knew her father would pinpoint the “I just fucked your daughter nasty" vibes wafting off of me from four states away.

“No, Adele, I'm not putting Eddy on speaker.” She sighed and dropped her phone to her lap, hitting the speaker button with her thumb. “FINE. Is everyone here?”

“Adelaide why are you in a car, it sounds like you’re in a car.”

She transferred the phone to her opposite hand as I stretched my arm across the seat and intertwined our fingers. “Eddy and I are going to the airport Mama, our flight leaves at one.”

Her father’s rich baritone chimed in, “I guess there’s a first time for everything, one of my daughters not being stubborn? I better buy a lottery ticket.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, “Daddy.”

“Eddy, son she IS going with you, correct?”

I cleared my throat, “Yessir, she agreed.”

“Good. Finally. Adele you’re next.”

Adelaide mouthed “I’m sorry” at me.

The conversation devolved from there. “What does that mean Daddy?” Adele sounded irritated.

“It means you need to stop being so stubborn and accept help and maybe find a good man.”

An argument started between the two of them, with Dottie interjecting at random times. There was something about college and Adele getting her Masters while working. Adelaide looked bored, like she had heard this argument before. She started massaging the palm of my hand with her thumb and staring out the window as her family argued.

Finally, Adele’s voice cut through the nonsense, “Addie and Eddy’s hotel room only had one bed!”

I caught the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror and I don’t think he felt at all sorry for my impending death.

Adelaide’s attention was suddenly diverted back to her phone, “ADELE! Daddy, there was one bed, but I slept on the couch.”

Her sister wasn’t to be swayed from her current path of turning the attention to Adelaide, “Daddy, I looked at photos of the suite, the couch was too small for anyone to sleep on.”

He sounded displeased, I was suddenly very aware the man owned a hardware store and all murdering/disposing bodies things were readily available and no one would blink twice at him having any of them. “Eddy made you sleep on the couch?”

Adele sounded breathless, “THEY WERE CUDDLING THIS MORNING.”

Adelaide started making sounds into the phone, “Can't…. tunnel… losing…. service…” She hit the end button and heaved a sigh, “Well that was a fucking disaster.”

I squeezed her fingers. “Am I safe from your father in a different country?”

She squeezed back. “Probably.”

Her phone started vibrating and she sent the call to voicemail and the next three calls after that before opening Instagram and scrolling through her notifications.

She frowned thoughtfully, “I probably should have gone private before you posted that picture. In our little bubble I forget you’re a famous heartthrob.”

“What? Why? Are people being mean?” I released her hand and snatched the phone from her. Totally ignoring the famous part, because honestly I forgot sometimes too. Someone had gone through every photo of her just commenting “fat” or “whore.”

I took the liberty of blocking them. She had 100 new followers and a number of DMs. “Do you want me to go through the DMs?” She didn’t answer so I took the liberty.

A lot of them were the same as the comments, a few from women I had slept with claiming I was their boyfriend, a lot of marriage proposals from men, those all got deleted. And finally, there were some messages from my teammates' wives, and at least three from my horny teammates trying to hit on Adelaide. She would see right through them, so I left those for her to laugh at later. I set her profile to private and handed her back her phone. “Cleansed. But Svech proposed, you should probably let him down easy.”

She smirked. “I don’t know...he’s heading for a big contract and I’ve become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Besides I’m dying to find out what else his nimble hands can do.”

My jaw dropped, “You minx. He’s 12.”

“Oh so we should add stamina to the pro list then,” she said looking teasingly thoughtful.

The SUV pulled up to the terminal and I reached over to unbuckle her seatbelt and haul her against my side, lips finding hers. “Svech probably doesn’t even know what the clit is. You’re better off with me, beautiful.”

As the driver put the vehicle in park and went around the back to get our bags, I stepped out of the backseat and offered Adelaide my hand, which she took, gracefully stepping out of the SUV. I could easily picture her stepping onto the red carpet at any awards show.

There were a lot of perks of flying first class and the priority lane through security and the lounge were two of them.

Adelaide was sipping on a double cappuccino she snuck off to buy herself and staring around the lounge. “I’m suddenly regretting working in Human Resources instead of being a bajillionaire.”

We were sitting on a plush leather loveseat and I put my arm around her and tugged her against my body. “Bajillionaires own their own planes. They don’t fly with the unwashed masses.”

“Eddy, I’m the only woman in this lounge and everyone’s shoes cost more than my entire outfit.”

I kissed her temple. “Except I know you’re not unwashed because I was in the shower with you, doing the washing.”

Little Eddy twitched thinking about the shower, soap cascading down her body and dripping off her tits while I fucked her against the shower wall.

She blushed and hid her face in my shoulder. “Eddy! Shh, someone might hear you.”

I didn’t tell her the guy a few seats down definitely heard me and looked her up and down. I had never been possessive before. It was a new feeling and I didn’t want some overdressed schmuck making eyes at my girl.

With her tucked into my side, head under the side of my jaw, she let the coffee cup she was holding rest on top of my thigh. A few minutes later it started to slide out of her fingers and I took it with my free hand and sipped while she made little kitten snores into my neck.

She was wearing an oversized cream colored fisherman’s sweater, sleeves rolled up, over black leggings with practical fur lined boots. The knit hung from her shoulders making her appear way more petite than she was and according to her, was premium comfort.

I just thought she looked cute and I had only thought about bending her over the back of the loveseat, pulling her leggings down just below her ass and fucking her hard until we both came, twice… maybe three times.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I lifted my hips slightly to get my hand in there and pull it out. I rejected the call and sent my mom a text in reply.

At the airport, Adelaide is sleeping.

Mom: She’s coming?!

Yeah… she’s coming. We’re gonna land about 5, and it will probably take an hour or so to get through customs and get her checked bag. You should have dad bring the dolly. Her luggage was huge before we went shopping.

Mom: Ooh a heavy packer. I’ll have Dad pick you up around 6 then. You and Jesse will have to share the bunk beds. The guest room is full of storage stuff.

It’s all presents for you guys and her family. We spent 6 hours in department stores and boutiques and I don’t think she bought a single thing for herself. I am not sleeping in a bunk bed.

Mom: She didn’t have to get us anything! What a dear. Well I’m not making our guest sleep in a bunk bed with your brother.

I told her that. She didn’t listen. Something about hostesses and Southern women. Mom, my suite at the Thompson only had one bed.

Mom: Oh… OH.

Yeah.

Mom: So when are you proposing?

You’re ridiculous.

Mom: You’re bringing home a woman that you are sleeping with which has never happened in the history of EVER. Even when you dated that one girl for almost a year.

I met her two days ago, she was just left at the altar and cheated on. Give me some time.

Mom: But you’re planning on it.

I’m currently trying to convince her to let me take her somewhere tropical for the break. Besides, she could go full exorcist at any time. I literally know nothing about this woman.

Mom: Whatever. You’ll marry her. A mom knows these things. She’s been through a trauma and still scurried around to buy people she’s never met gifts.

I shoved the phone in my pocket. I knew my mom was going to make a huge deal about this thing. I sat in the quiet lounge, staring out the window as the storm clouds began to clear and chilly sunshine started to glint off of the snow and ice, sipping on Adelaide’s cappuccino while she snored gently into my neck.

Finally, our flight was announced and I turned my head to kiss her forehead. “Lady, our flight is boarding in 10 minutes.”

She stirred and pressed a kiss to my neck before sitting up and stretching. “Mm. Okay handsome.”

I grinned, “Handsome?”

She took the now empty coffee cup from my hand and frowned. “Well yeah, you call me ‘Beautiful’ so can’t I return the favor?”

Taking her free hand I pulled her to her feet and grabbed our carry-ons, “Of course you can.” I brushed her hair from her face and gave her a chaste kiss, “You’re adorable when you sleep by the way.”

“Oh my god, did I drool or snore?” she said, rolling her eyes.

“No drooling and only soft little cat snores. Adorable.”

The airport was absolutely packed and bustling outside of the first class lounge and instinctively she stepped into my body and I put a protective arm around her as we made our way to the gate.

When we got to our seats, I let Adelaide take the window. I tended to prefer the aisle anyway. Leaning over, I took her hand. “Do you still have a fear of flying?”

She squeezed my fingers. “I’m still nervous, but it’s like an excited nervous. But I don’t think I can fly economy ever again.”

I squeezed back, “Stick with me Lady and you’ll never have to.”

Her bright genuine smile made my stomach jump. Oh no.

It was amazing watching her reactions: well rested, well fucked, and without the stress of getting left at the altar, she was able to actually enjoy all the minute things about flying that frequent travellers lost. I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face as she treated take off like a roller coaster, saying a whispered “wheeee” to herself as she watched a winter laden Chicago get smaller and smaller.

She was still staring out the window, her nose practically pressed to it like a child waiting for Santa when the drink cart came by and I got her a G&T. “Lady, I got you a drink,” I said, nudging her elbow.

Settling back into her seat she took the drink, “Thank you Eddy.”

I grabbed her free hand with mine and brought her fingers to my lips, “You’re welcome, Lady.”

We sat in silence, she occasionally glanced out the window, but we had ascended above the clouds and there wasn’t much to see. At least I didn’t think so, but I was wrong.

“I bet this is what heaven looks like… but less cold.”

I choked down my drink, “What?”

“It’s just a big fluffy blanket that goes on forever. Like a foam pit but without all the gross kiddy germs.”

Suddenly, I saw the appeal of economy; sure there was less leg room, but the armrests lifted. I hated the six inches of extra space that separated our bodies. I leaned an elbow on it, “Lady.”

“Hmm?” She continued staring out the window.

“Lady, come here and kiss me.”

Turning her head, she mimicked my position and pressed her lips to mine. “Thank you Eddy.”

I wrapped a lock of her hair around my finger and tugged her closer to kiss her again, “For what?”

“The destination and the man are different, better even, but this feeling I have? That’s exactly as I planned it. I feel… I don’t know, safe, cared for.”

I kissed her again before pressing our foreheads together. “Good. I want to give you everything you want for Christmas this year. Dan is a fucking idiot.”

“You’re making a shitty holiday better than I ever could have imagined.”

Pressing my lips to hers again I wove my fingers through hers, “We have about 5 hours in the air now, want to tell me about your dad?”

She sighed and tugged our hands into her body and laid her head on my arm. “My real dad is a congressman now. Has been. He knows I exist but,” she shrugged, “he doesn’t care. My mom was raised by a family that was trying to climb the social ladder and my grandmother actually encouraged her when he started making advances even though he was with someone else. My mother didn’t know it but he had gotten engaged to that other woman when she had gotten pregnant with me. He chose the other woman who was from a better family. My mom got thrown out of her house because she refused to get an abortion. So she was 20, pregnant, and basically had zero life skills other than knowing what fork to use for what course.”

She paused and took a sip of her drink. “My dad had just taken over the hardware store from its previous owner. Papa Glenn was white, widowed, and his kids had zero intention of taking over the store. It had been an institution in our town for over 50 years and they wanted to sell the building and the business. So Papa Glenn left it to my Daddy who had worked for the man since he was just a poor teenager. He started as someone who swept and tidied. I don’t think he even needed help, just saw a boy who needed a purpose in life and gave him one. I started calling him Papa Glenn when I was a little girl, but he passed quite a few years ago. ANYWAY, he had just given Daddy the store. His kids vandalized it. Threw bricks through the windows, tried to burn it down, graffitied horrible things on the walls. Daddy almost lost the store before he even got a chance to run it.”

I squeezed her hand as she continued, “So, he’s sweepin’ up all the broken glass and my mom, who is about six months pregnant at this point, comes up and starts clucking about crime and hooligans. Just treated him like any other person. He’s cleaning up and this pregnant white lady is standing in the street giving him the what-for all while picking up merchandise that can be salvaged and putting it in a box. Finally, he just looks at her and asks where her husband is, she says she doesn’t have one, he tells her to go home, she says she doesn’t have one of those either. She ended up living in the space above the store managing the books until Daddy convinced her to marry him a couple years later. When they got married someone threw a Molotov cocktail through the big front window. This time though, half the town pitched in to help. What happened to my mom made the rounds in a small town and you don’t just throw bombs in the windows of men who take in pregnant ladies and provide for them. You just don’t, anyway, Adele was born a year later. Mama became president of the PTA and Daddy’s store sponsored sports. Other than the occasional asshole, life was pretty good. And that is how I ended up with a dad that is Black.”

I rubbed her knuckles with my fingertips. “Did you ever try to contact your real dad?”

Her voice was firm. “George Thibodeaux is my real dad. But I know what you’re saying, I sent him a letter once in high school. He basically sent a cease and desist back. I didn’t care after that. I had a father that provided for me in all the ways that were important. Who loved me as his own. He never treated Adele and I differently.”

I kissed her temple, “It’s a beautiful story. I look forward to meeting your dad one day, when he doesn’t want to bury me in concrete.”

She downed the rest of her drink and put it in the trash as the flight attendant walked by. The seatbelt sign had long been turned off and I reclined my seat and reached over to unclip Adelaide’s seat belt. I hauled her over the armrest and she made a small squeak as I settled her on top of my body and pulled a blanket over us. Her voice was quiet, “What the fuck Joel?”

I sighed, “I really hate it when you call me Joel. Nothing ever good happens when you call me Joel. Now, just settle. I need a nap and I can't nap when you’re all the way over there.”

She settled her head on my chest with a sigh and muttered, “Whatever.”

My last thought before I fell asleep was to wonder if I could bring her on the team plane. I was insanely comfortable and warm.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When I woke, I felt like half my face was plastered to whatever I was using as a pillow. It was the type of nap when you wake up and you don’t know what year it is. My pillow was rumbling and there was an arm around my waist. Yawning, I lifted my head and reality slowly resumed. Joel was snoring softly and the plane was filled with a muted orange glow like we were flying directly into the sunset. It was oddly romantic. Before I had time to absorb it the captain’s voice came over the intercom announcing our descent into Winnipeg and the seatbelt light came back on.

I tried to roll off of him gracefully and back into my own seat. I knew I failed when he let out a soft grunt and removed my elbow from his spleen. I grimaced, “Sorry.”

He yawned and adjusted his seat upright. “Don’t be, that was the best damn nap I’ve had in awhile. It was like 3 hours.”

His hair was tousled from running his hands through it and his face was still slack with sleep as he picked up my hand and kissed it with a groggy smile. My heart did a free fall out of my chest and for the first time since I crashed into Joel I realized he had more power to break my heart than Dan ever did and it had been less than three days.

Taking a shuddering breath and an anemic smile he misread whatever vibe I was putting off, “Scared of landing?”

In a metaphorical way it fit, because I was afraid of landing after going back to the real world after this fairy tale, so I nodded and he let go of my hand and settled his palm behind my head, his fingers rubbing the back of my neck.

This revelation was kicking my ass and I realized this was a HUGE mistake, going home with him to his family, but backing out now would be so incredibly rude.

The sun was quickly setting and I looked out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Winnipeg before it was too dark to see anything properly.

Joel let his hand drop and started playing on his phone. As I settled back into the seat he leaned over holding his phone out, “Can I post this to close friends on Instagram?”

The photo was before I had put his sweatshirt on, it was clear I was wearing a Christmas themed pajama set that bordered on lingerie. I was smiling and looking at the camera, Elf hat at a rakish angle on my head, hair falling perfectly and Joel, Joel was looking at me in the photo. Looking at me like nothing else in the world existed. I felt a small flame of hope ignite in my belly. “That’s a good picture, post it wherever you want.”

He looked at me apprehensively. “You’re not worried about your family?”

I gave a wry laugh, “My mama is going to be plannin’ another wedding when she sees that. When we can afford another one that is.”

He linked his arm through mine and started tapping on his phone again. “Your mom will have to fight my mom for that right.”

The little flame of hope glittered a little brighter as the plane made a controlled descent into Winnipeg.

It took the better part of an hour for the plane to land and for us to make it through customs and get our bags. Joel had his bag over his shoulder and was dragging my big suitcase as he followed me with my smaller carry-on. The bells I attached to the zippers jingled everytime the bags bounced over a bump.

Bob Edmundson had texted his son to let him know he was circling the airport and would meet us out front as soon as we got our bags. I stopped in the middle of the sliding doors as the icy blast hit my face and I made an about-face running into Joel.

His arms came around me protectively, “Where’s the fire, Lady?”

“Cold,” I answered, giving a shiver.

His laugh rumbled in his chest, “It’s Manitoba.”

“This is not Alabama cold, this is not Chicago cold. This is Arctic cold and I AM FROM ALABAMA. It’s 65 degrees in Alabama!

He used his body to herd me out the door and I was suddenly seeing a disadvantage of being the small person in a relationship. “This isn’t bad, it’s probably like negative ten.”

My voice was a little louder than I anticipated and my Southern was coming out a little more than I liked, “Negative Ten?! It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here!”

A dark SUV pulled up to the curb and Joel had the audacity to chortle, “Negative ten Celcius. That’s like fifteen degrees Fahrenheit.”

I suddenly felt chilled to the bone. “That information does not in fact make it better, Joel. If it’s below freezing the entire South just shuts down until it defrosts.”

He grinned again and grabbed my head to press a kiss to my temple. “I know Princess, I won’t let you freeze.” As he rounded the back of the SUV with our bags a gentleman about my height rounded the hood and his smile was identical to his son’s.

He opened the front door of the vehicle and held out his hand, “I’m Bob Edmundson, you must be Adelaide, let’s get you in the car before you freeze.”

I gripped his hand, surprised to find it warm and I looked at it in surprise, “Mr. Edmundson, it’s a pleasure. Does everyone in your family run hot? I feel like my hands are turning to icicles.”

“Hop in, the seat heaters are warm, and please call me Bob,” he said, gesturing to the front seat. The well worn leather was already warm and the heater was going full blast as he closed the door and I turned in my seat to watch the men do the forearm grab/back slap hug all men seemed to do. Masculine affection was weird.

There was a muted argument between the two that was short-lived and ended with Eddy sliding into the back seat while his dad slid into the driver's seat, both muttering about stubborn assholes.

I cleared my throat apprehensively. “I can sit in the back seat, there’s probably more room for Eddy’s legs up here.”

The answers were simultaneous with Bob looking at Joel in the rearview mirror and Joel staring back at his father.

“You make her call you Eddy?”

“The old boat only has seat heaters in the front. Because my parents are too stubborn to let me buy them a new one.”

I sat in the front seat as the SUV pulled away from the curb, hand folded in my lap trying not to smile as the men practically yelled at each other.

“Your mother and I don’t need a new Land Rover.”, he held up a finger as Joel opened his mouth, “OR a Gwagon or BMW whatever.”

The six foot four, two hundred and thirty pound man that had literally been inside me less than 12 hours ago, pouted like a petulant toddler in the back seat muttering under his breath, “Stubborn old coot.”

Bob frowned and reached over and patted my knee in a comforting manner, like my own father might do. “I’m sorry, we’re not this dysfunctional usually. But lately Joel and his brother have gotten it into their heads that I’m some infirm old man.”

I smiled and patted his hand. “If you’re ever blessed with a speaker phone chat with my family you will understand why I find this perfectly comforting. Thank you Mr. Edmundson.”

“You can call me Bob, Adelaide.”

“I will certainly try Mr. Edmundson, I mean Bob.”

I bent over to dig through my purse trying to find my phone so I could call the family and let them know we landed. I turned off the data roaming and various notifications started to pop up. A long arm appeared from the backseat, “Use mine Lady, the international charges will be outrageous.”

Bob frowned as he piloted the SUV toward the highway. “You call her Lady?”

“Yeah, Dad. Like ‘Adelaidie.’”

I got a sideways glance from Bob and I put a hand on his arm. “It’s fine. He’s not being disrespectful, I promise. At least he doesn’t insist on calling me Addie like my sister. She calls me that because she knows I hate it.”

Joel shook his phone at me again, “Lady.”

I took his phone and threw it back at him where it hit his chest and fell in his lap. “I have an international plan, Dorkface.”

Bob coughed and kept looking at the icy highway in front of us, while his son looked shocked and then continued pouting in the backseat, “Did you just call me ‘Dorkface?’”

Dialing the phone I held it to my ear. “I did.”

The man to my left was now openly smiling and trying not to laugh.

“Hi Mama! I made it! Put me on speaker. Hi Daddy! No Adele, I’m not speaking to you. Yeah, Eddy’s dad picked us up from the airport. Brandon is about two and a half hours from Winnipeg?” I looked at Joel for confirmation, “Maybe three with all the snow and ice and stuff. No. I’m not putting you on speaker. I just wanted to let y’all know I got here and I’ll send you a text when we get there. No, I’m not inflictin’ you on Bob while he’s drivin’. Momma he told me to call him Bob. Not calling him Bob is rude. Ugh… Momma!”

Joel and his father shared a smile and meaningful look in the rearview mirror that I didn’t have the extra brain cells to process at that moment. “Ok. The plane landed. I’m safe. I’ll send y’all a text when we get to the house. Bye.”

There was a comfortable silence after I hung up and inspite of the three hour nap on the plane, I felt the day catching up to me.

Joel yawned and stretched in the back seat. “Hey Dad, pull over and hit that Timmies.”

I perked up slightly. “Timmies? Like Tim Horton’s?”

He grinned, “You can’t get the authentic Canadian experience without going to Timmies.”

The big SUV pulled up to the drive-thru and we sat behind a couple of other cars as I stared out the window looking at the lights of Winnipeg. Something moved in the bushes by the drive-thru and squinted trying to see what it was before Bob asked me a question.

“Pardon?” I shook my head slightly and blinked a few times. I must have been more tired than I felt.

Bob repeated his question, “What would you like, Adelaide?”

I answered with a small smile, “Oh just some herbal tea for me.”

“You don’t want a Timmy’s coffee?” Bob Edmundson was the epitome of a father and I was beginning to think Eddy and I had similar childhoods.

“I do, I just had a good nap on the plane and if I drink coffee at this time in the evenin’ I will never sleep.”

“Oh Dad, get Timbits!” Eddy piped up from the back seat.

Any guard Joel might have up was completely gone as he sat in the back seat of the older SUV. He was just a big kid in the back seat of the family vehicle and I wondered if his family had taken him to hockey practice in this car. His buddies and teammates and all their hockey gear piled in the big Tahoe and I wondered if our kids would play hockey. What the fuck? I turned back to the window so any expression I might have about my intrusive thought was hidden.

Something moved in the darkness again and I strained to see what it was , blinking trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness as Joel and his father had a conversation like I wasn’t even there, which is what my parents did when Adele and I were annoying.

“Will she eat Timbits?”

“Yes, Dad she eats anything, it’s fantastic.”

I was distracted when I interjected, still trying to develop superhuman night vision. “I actually hate broccoli unless it’s smothered in Velveeta.”

I had no idea the look that passed between the men in the rearview mirror, but Joel replied excitedly, “I told you!”

As we pulled forward to the speaker box I could see what I had been looking at was just a bag of trash moving with the wind.

Bob was in the middle of ordering when the bag moved again and this time there was no breeze to speak of. I unhooked my seatbelt and opened the door, the cold hitting me like a freight train.

Joel leaned forward in his seat as his father gave me a sideways glance, “Lady?”

I wrapped my arms around my body, “That bag of trash keeps moving, I just want to make sure there’s not a possum or something stuck in it.”

“Lady, it’s just some varmint. It probably has rabies or something,” Joel’s voice was tinged with a combination of amusements and exasperation.

“Then, we will call animal control or whatever to put it down humanely and not let it suffocate in a trash bag,” I answered matter-of-factly.

Slamming the door I tiptoed through the bushes next to the drive-thru, the Manitoba winter cutting through the knit of my sweater with ease, and as I got closer, the bag moved more and whimpered. Feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the cold I jumped back to the Tahoe and threw open the door to the back seat, “Eddy give me your coat.”

He held the wool to his chest. “What? Why? Adelaide this is a Tom Ford, I’m not letting you wrap a raccoon in a four thousand dollar coat.”

My jaw dropped, “Why do you OWN a four thousand dollar coat!? That’s just ostentatious!” Slamming the door I pulled my arms through the sleeves of my oversized sweater and slid it off, leaving me in leggings and a cami and I ripped a hole in the trash bag with frozen fingers. The puppy inside the plastic gave a tired cry and I gently wrapped it up in my sweater before cradling it to my chest.

Joel jumped out of the back of the SUV. “Adelaide, what the fuck it is freezing outside!”

Suddenly, filled with a white hot rage, it was directed at him in that moment, “It’s not a raccoon, you asshole! It’s a puppy!”

He settled his coat around my shoulders and helped me back into the SUV. I wasn’t sure who was shivering harder, me or the puppy now cradled against my body. I pulled the four thousand dollar coat around me, trying to create a pocket of heat for the little creature. I hugged it a little tighter and it gave a sharp cry with whatever energy it had left. I felt helpless, “Eddy!”

“I’m looking for an emergency vet right now, Lady.”

Bob pulled forward in the drive-thru line and looking between his son and me and the puppy before pulling his cellphone out of his pocket. I guess the Tahoe was old enough not to have bluetooth and therefore could have been the car that Joel and his brother got carted around to hockey practice.

“Hi honey, we are going to be a little later than planned. Joel insisted on Timmies and Adelaide found a puppy and I think we need to drop it off at a vet.” There was a pause that was obvious confusion before he continued, “You’re going to love her. She found the poor pup in a trash bag. I’ll give you a call when we are on our way again. Ok. Bye dear.”

We sat in silence, trapped in the drive-thru. I carefully tried to tuck my sweater around the dog as Joel spoke, “There’s an emergency vet about five minutes across the highway. I’m going to call them.”

The SUV inched forward, pulling up to the window and Bob handed his credit card over and silently distributed drinks and a cardboard box with a handle. “Hi, yes, my, uh, girlfriend just found a puppy in a trash bag. It’s cold and we think it’s hurt.” He paused and I just blinked at the word “girlfriend.” I supposed it was faster than “girl I bumped into in the airport and fucked” and probably would result in fewer questions. But he could have also said friend in a pinch, travel companion, literally anything other than the G word.

Bob regarded me through the conversation. I was never adept at hiding any thought that crossed my mind and I knew he read my face like a book.

“I understand it’s close to Christmas and you’re full, but this is an emergency. Yes, fine we accept financial responsibility. It’s an animal that needs care.” He hung up and pointed between the front seats, “Dad, take a left out of the parking lot.”

I held the cup of tea inside the coat, hoping the hot cup and steam would produce some radiant heat to help warm the puppy and myself.

Joel wasn’t kidding when he said the emergency vet was close and we pulled in just a few minutes later. It was one of those little miracles that happen especially around Christmas. The smell of disinfectant made my nose wrinkle, but the office was warm and I was thankful for that.

The girl behind the desk seemed friendly enough in holiday themed scrubs, “Hi, welcome.”

I almost surprised myself when I spoke first, “Hi, yes my boy… my boyfriend just called. This is the puppy I found.” It was harder than I thought, saying that word.

She frowned, “The one you found in a trash bag? Let me take it back immediately. We’ll assess the poor dear and let you know what needs to be done.”

I tried to wrap my sweater around the puppy more securely before I handed it over across the desk. She took the bundle and cooed as she walked to the back, “Aren’t you darling? We’ll get you all fixed up.”

Joel and his father had taken up residence in the three empty seats, leaving the middle one for me and I pulled the peacoat closer around my body as I plopped in the plastic chair. “I can’t believe you own a four thousand dollar coat, Eddy. I can’t believe I am WEARING a four thousand dollar coat; four thousand dollars is like a year’s worth of car payments for me.”

He put his arm around me and kissed my temple, “Lady, I’m in a tax bracket that’s just a little higher than yours.”

“A year’s worth of car payments, Joel… A YEAR.” It was clear that I was going to be stuck on the coat for while.

“No offense Princess but it sounds like you need a new car.” HIs big hand rubbed my arm, trying to create friction and warmth.

Bob gave his son a dry look over my head, “Don’t let him bully you into buying a new car Adelaide.”

Joel started rubbing the back of my neck, which was becoming a habit. “Don’t you work for Mercedes?”

I scoffed, “In HR. And why would I spend half my paycheck on a stupid expensive car that is even more expensive to maintain. Just to get like a 10% discount?”

He made a face. “Really? Your company discount is that low?”

“You probably get a better deal as a professional athlete than I do as an actual employee,” I sighed.

The receptionist came back out front and looked at me, “Are you taking responsibility for the puppy?”

I stood and went to the desk. “Yes. What do I need to do?”

She slid a clipboard towards me, “Just fill this out and we will get started on her.”

“Her!? It’s a her! Is she ok?”

I received a warm smile, “Yes, she’s lucky you found her. She’s malnourished and dehydrated, suffering some hypothermia and probably some other things, but for being found in a trash sack and separated from her mom at such a young age she should be just fine. She will probably have some pretty bad diarrhea for a few days.”

“Is she really young? I thought she was pretty big.”

“She’s barely six weeks, if that. She’s gonna be a big girl. Probably some sort of LGD and malamute, husky, german shepherd. Something like that. We’ll send you home with some puppy food.”

I looked over the form in front of me, only half paying attention to it, “What’s an LGD? How big will she get?”

“Livestock Guardian Dog like a Great Pyranees or Anatolian Shepherd. She will probably be around 70lbs.”

I sighed, “Of course I couldn’t find a Chihuahua in a trash bag.”

“Go ahead and fill out that paperwork to the best of your ability, she is just old enough to get the first round of distemper and parvo, do you want to do that?”

I nodded, “Yeah I mean, I guess just do everything you need to.”

Both men were buried in their phones when I plopped back into my seat. “I think I have a puppy,” I said it to no one in particular, but a thought occurred to me, “Oh my god, Bob. I’m so sorry. We can find a shelter or something to take her to, if she can go.”

He patted my knee and didn’t reply, just asked me a question, “What’s her name?”

I answered before I even knew the question had an answer, “Tinsel.”

“Why don’t you stay here and wait for Tinsel and Joel and I will go across the highway, I’m pretty sure we passed a Pet Valu. Just text Joel anything you need.”

“Ok, let me get my emergency credit card,” I said as I dug around in my giant purse trying to find it. Joel gave me a dry look and I sighed, “If I check this later there won’t be a charge on here will there?”

He shook his head.

Bob just looked at us with a big grin on his face. “Best Christmas ever.”

Soon I was alone in the waiting room, barks, yips, meows, and yowls coming from the back room and I tucked Joel’s coat tighter around me. I actually swam in the thing, but I didn’t have time to process that.

[floraltypes]

Old Beginning Pt. 2

pairings - aaron hotchner x reader, jethro gibbs x reader

chapters - one 

summary - the news of a dinner party arrises, but there are some little challenges before the actually night

wc - 3k

an - sorry this took awhile, my summer is over and my writing schedule will be a little wonky now. i’m taking a break from answering requests, so I apologize if I haven’t answered yours, but i eventually will

Penelope and you both looked back at Aaron, taken back by his repeating of the word ‘boyfriend’. You didn’t plan on telling people so soon, considering he was your boss from your old line of work.

“I want to know everything about him, you have to invite him!” Penelope quickly went back into her loud chatting, attracting other faces at her comment. “I also may have mentioned to some of the team that you do have a boyfriend, it just slipped! You know I can’t keep secrets!”

“It’s okay, Pene,” You smiled softly. “I can’t invite him though, you know, since I’m not the one holding the dinner event.”

“You can invite your partner, everyone else can as well, considering it is a catch up,” Dave walked over, a cup of coffee in his own hand as he used the other to scratch at his stubble. “I’ll even invite the woman I’ve been seeing. Feel free to all bring a plus one, I have enough room and everyone deserves a taste of my Italian dishes, will change their lives.”

“Thank you, Rossi, but I simply can’t. It’s so soon, and he’s such a busy man,” You laughed, waving your hand. “It was a kind gesture though.”

“L/n, don’t tell us you’re embarrassed to show your new boyfriend to us?” Derek walked back over, poking your shoulder. “Penelope told all of us down here, just wanted to wait and see when you would tell us.”

“I’m not embarrassed, that’s absurd. He’s truly busy.”

“Invite him, I’ll make sure Will comes and hire a babysitter for Henry, so that we can truly have a adult night,” JJ chuckled. “Everyone is bringing a date, so it would be odd if you didn’t.”

“Actually, I don’t have a partner at the moment due to how invested I am in my studies and the factors of that many young woman my age only focus on the factor of conventional attractiveness rather then the complexity of brains and deep-”

“Don’t worry, Spencer, if you don’t have a date, then I’ll just bring two,” Emily joked. “You don’t need a date, I’m not bringing one either, but Y/n is for sure.”

“I’ll be like the tw-”

“You are dating someone, we aren’t, so you’ll bring that someone. Come on, L/n,” Emily continued on, grabbing your hand and pulling you away. “I’ll walk you out,” She turned back to wink at her coworkers, leading you to the elevator and soon the parking lot.

“Aaron,” Rossi looked towards his friend, a man who had his glare fixated on your exiting figure. “Will you bring Beth, the more the merrier.”

“Yeah, I suppose I will,” He answered, retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, pulling up her contact picture, thumb hovering over the call button. “Let’s finish up this work, so we call all get home.” He shoved it back in his pocket, commanding everyone else while moving back up the stairs to his office.

Meanwhile, you were outside of your car, looking at Emily still was right by your side.

“Bring your boyfriend,” She commented, watching as you fished for your keys and unlocked your car. “I want to meet him, I haven’t really talked to you in a long time.”

“We’re both so busy. Him as well.”

“Seriously, Y/n, I’m not gonna ease up on you. I’ve noticed the new tint in your eye, new considering the last time it was severely dulled. It’s amazing to see your real smile again, you closer to your old self despite the past losses. He really has helped you, so I want to meet the man who helped my dear friend so much.”

You contemplated her kind words, getting down to the point that everyone probably was happy to see you again, yourself physically and mentally.

“I’ll call him, see if he can come. Can’t promise anything, his work is very important to him, so if it needs him he’s there.”

Emily smiled widely, leaning over to kiss your cheek before you moved to open the front door and start your car.

“Great, I’m actually bringing someone. Poor Spencer might be the only one.”

“Aaron is as well?”

“Hotch, yeah,” She laughed. “Meet her at some track meet he had, Jack really likes her.”

“That’s good, I’ll see you soon then,” You smiled, shutting the door as Emily watched you back out, waving a small goodbye.

Leaving the facility, while at a stop light, you found your flip phone, finding the contact of Jethro and quickly dialing the number.

“Gibbs,” He answered.

“Hey, are you on a case?”

“No, are you driving?”

“Yes, safely. What are you doing? Building a boat,” You chuckled, imagining him in the basement with the tool and sweaty shirt.

“Yeah. Did you meet up with your old team today?”

“Mhm, all surprised to see me today. It was humorous in a sense. But, Rossi invited me and everyone to a dinner, telling us to bring a partner.”

“Who are you planning on bringing?”

“You.”

“So, we’re being more public with our relationship?”

“Just with the old team, my old team, they don’t have contact with anyone apart of NCIS, or at least not personal only professional.”

“I thought you were going to come and see me, instead of making me drive,” You could almost sense his smile on the other line, a mocking one.

Gibbs would obviously accept the offer, the man truly holding a strong affection for you, a soft spot personally for you, so he would agree to drive the hour or two.

But just because he would, it doesn’t mean he didn’t have to mess around a bit, act like he wouldn’t.

“I know, but then you can see my new apartment. And after this weekend, who knows when we’ll be able to see each other again. Both of our jobs involved sporadic cases that start and end at no specific time, hard to plan around. And, everyone is pressuring me to meet you.”

“I’m already popular, huh?”

“I suppose,” You huffed, rubbing your temple, exhaustion starting to take over you, wanting to get some rest, a calming bath to combat earlier feelings that seemed as if they were creeping up once again.

“I’ll come, don’t worry. Get home safe, call me when you have the address and date.”

“Okay, bye.” You hung up, tossing the phone onto the empty seat as you continued to drive, playing the music from the CD already inserted in your car.

Time leading up to the dinner seemed to fly by, especially considering that it wasn’t much time and you weren’t having to work. You decided to take the free time to get fully settled in, figure out your nerves, make a phone call to your therapist, and even read. Trying to get prepared for all the days that are to come.

Your hair was now being changed from its normal du to a new one, fancier in a sense. Applying a nice coat of makeup, new lip color, trying a new pallet and the old eyelash curler that hasn’t been used in a while, you finished ‘upgrading’ your face. A outfit was simple, considering you didn’t have many fancy ones, so with not much to choose, it was a quick decision.

Sliding that on and fixing the straps to be a bit tighter, messing with the bra to fit correctly, and pulling it down a bit, you grabbed your go to purse, shoving needed materials a into it as you moved to the kitchen.

Within the kitchen, there was a certain door within the wall of the pantry with a password. Quickly typing in the combination the door swung open, choosing between a small but handy knife, you put in the pocket of your bag.

You weren’t too worried about dangers at the dinner, but with years of catching/fighting murders, specific people after you, and even very powerful assassins, you carried certain weapons for safety.

Hearing the sturdy knock of someone’s knuckles on your front door, you rushed to shut the the secret door in the pantry, heading to your front door where someone was waiting.

A quick peak through the hole, your eyes widened in surprise and opened the door, allowing the man to walk in.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, till uh, later tonight,” You mentioned, looking him up and down to see him more dressed up. “Are you not able to attend anymore?”

“No, I’m still going,” Hotch denied, sliding off his shoes and following you to the couch. “I just wanted to chat before than, a chance for just the two of us.”

“Is something wrong?” You walked over to your teapot, filling it with water, and placing it on your stove, heating up the water. “This is very unexpected.”

“Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you, see the apartment, hear what’s new with you.”

“Things,” You shrugged. “Obviously I’ve had a new job experience, similar in ways and also not. Grew closer with a new group of teammates, people, lost a few. Yeah, lost a few,” You repeated, remembering Jenny Shepard, even Kate, both amazing women, who did amazing things.

“That’s always hard, I guess my most recent loss was Haley,” Aaron hummed, soon the kettle making a high pitched noise, you rushing to take it off and grab some tea bags.

“She was also a amazing woman. Wonderful mother, cared so much for that little boy.”

“She really was.”

“Did you come to chat about her, it’s been a while since we had. Last time we really talked was five months after she passed, after the funeral.”

“It really has been that long?” Aaron questioned, taking the tea that you time handed him. “But it’s not the reason I came. I should have made more of a effort to keep in touch, after your transfer, after your loss.”

“You stayed with me for three months, allowing to lose some time with your son so you could change my dirty sheets and pick up all my snotty tissues,” You laughed, sitting down across from him with your own cup. “You had to get back to your family, make up for loss time.”

“You still helped me with my divorce during that time, and I still saw Jack,” He reminded you.

“I could’ve moved in with my father, but you allowed me not to do that.”

“Your father is a good man, but might not be the best to live with,” He laughed, a deep chuckle, something you didn’t see much. “You look nice.”

“Now you just notice,” You chuckle, taking another sip. “Thank you, you look nice as well. I was actually just going to call Jethro and tell him to meet me there, a bit of a drive and he isn’t happy about having to find a new team,” You spoke freely, feeling comfortable with the old friend, one you used to spill everything to years ago, him ranting to you too.

“Jethro? He has his own team? Sounds like a boss of some type.”

“Uh, technically. It’s complicated. I need to get going, to make it to the dinner on time and, finish, um, cleaning up my room before leaving.”

“I could take you there.”

“No thanks, I’ll see you there, bye.” You helped guide him to the door, a curt wave before he exited and shut it, locking it in a rush and moving back to the dining room table to clean the mugs.

You didn’t want to tell him all that, always insecure due to Gibbs being the prior boss of you and how people looked at that. Rumors were always spread about your and Aaron’s relationship, mostly about it being romantic.

Joining the team, you two easily hit it off due to your personalities. Always being filled with determination and stubbornness, refusing to give up till everything was done and right, even with files. Eventually you joined together, talked, spent most days with each other due to cases, and truly gained a very close friendship.

When rumors were getting around, glares were thrown your way, comments, left out by members who weren’t your immediate teams. People thought you were the cause of Haley and Aaron’s divorce, somehow word got around quickly, drama always does.

It was frustrating, already dealing with many different things at home, and even being in a relationship, it put so much unneeded stress and anxiety onto you.

So, getting into a relationship with Gibbs was a very reluctant thing on your part, he expressed his feelings first, but it was hard to accept them, despite the nerves he faced to do it.

Locking up the apartment, having all of your items with you, you made your way out the door and too your car, starting the drive to David’s house.

Upon arriving, you could hear light chatter in the home, lights on, and soothing music playing in the background. It sounded like everyone was having their fun, you couldn’t make out all the shadows of everyone indoors, just waiting outside for Jethro to arrive.

“Y/n?” You turned around at the sound of his voice, keys jingling in his hands as he walked up to you with a sly smile, shoving them in his pockets to place his arms around your waist. “What’s wrong, love?” Be snaked them around, a kiss to your somewhat clothed shoulder.

“Nothing, just a bit nervous to introduce you to everyone,” You smiled back at him, he squeezed a little tighter, catching your lips in a quick kiss. “Looking at your team, yet?”

“Nevermind that,” He grumbled, removing his hands to now interlace your left one with his right. “We should go in, right?”

“Maybe we could head back, to my place, say you are sick or something?” You looked back at him with a pleading look, to which he just chuckled at, starting to move to the front door, pressing the doorbell as you groaned a little.

“You’ll be fine,” He looked back at you as Rossi answered the door, cheerful smile on his lips, glass of scotch in hand as he moved out of the way to let you in.

“Ah! Y/n!” He cheered, leaning over to kiss your cheek and then pulled back. “Glad you made it! This must be…”

“Y/n! Oh where is the man?” Penelope rushed in, coming right by you with her own fruity drink, then leaning to whisper in your ear. “Is this him, oo!”

“Uh, Jethro that’s David,” You pointed to the man who first greeted you, him and Jethro shaking hands. “This is Penelope, the one kind of like Abby,” You smiled, as she gave you a little look, turning back and enveloping him in a little hug. She quickly turned back to you.

“He looks a little intimidating,” She whispered as you just laughed.

“For sure,” You nodded.

“Can I offer you a drink?” David turned to you two, gesturing to the one in his hand. “Something like Garcia for you Y/n, and what about you Jethro?”

“Just call me Gibbs, and yeah that’s fine,” He corrected Rossi, taking your hand as the two of you walked more inside of the magnificent house.

It truly was so well designed, very expensive, and the appetizers adorning the oak wood table looked very delicious. You wanted to go and grab a bite, before you were actually led to the living room where everyone was currently sitting.

“L/n, finally made it,” Derek laughed, beer in his hand as he pointed at you with a little chuckle. “You always know how to be a bit late.”

“Fashionably late, I believe that’s what it’s called,” JJ corrected them with her own wine glass in hand, Will sat right besides her on one of the couch as most of them in that room joined in laughter.

“What can I say?” You laughed, walking over, feeling less nervous with the factor of introducing your boyfriend, taking a seat on another couch in the large room, Jethro automatically sitting right besides you.

“So, introduce us,” Emily motioned over to Jethro, sly smile playing on her lips.

“This is Jethro, but he goes by Gibbs, and, uh, this is the team,” You started to name everyone off while pointing to them, leaving off a few names due to your members introducing their own partners to you.

Emily, Derek, and JJ had all brought partners. Spencer and Penelope decided to ‘go together’ as if they were partners, and Hotch hadn’t arrived yet. Rossi also had his girlfriend helping him cook in the kitchen, making drinks for you and Gibbs now.

“So, you work at NCIS, right?” Spencer questioned. “The Naval Criminal Investigative Service, very interesting considering the type of crimes you investigate. I would love to hear more about some of your cases and how you went about it,” Spencer smiled, a small notebook being pulled out of his pocket with a pen.

“Yeah,” Gibbs just nodded, looking at you a little questioning, which you just chuckled at.

“Why should we talk so much about work, it’s something we all do too much of,” You joked, everyone laughing, as Dave came back out, handing some drinks.

“Fine, fine, what do you do for fun Mr. Gibbs?” Derek asked, putting a arm over the couch and pulling his girl closer to his side, the woman just on her phone.

“I like to build boats, a type of hobbie I’ve been doing for years.”

“Building boats? Where?” Will wondered, intertwining his fingers with JJ.

“My basement, a private workspace.”

“How do you get it out then?” Penelope inquired, now back by Spencer and her face in her hand, leaning closer to show her interest in Gibbs statement.

“I’d be no fun if you knew that,” He shrugged, taking a drink with a small smile as Penelope gasped, Emily mouthing how ‘I like him’. It was sweet how everything was going well.

They all continued to converse with Gibbs, easily accepting him apart of the conversation, it was sweet and you were now on your second drink, practically all nerves gone.

“Sorry we’re late,” A voice mentioned in the hallway, dressed in a fine suit with a beautiful woman standing besides him. He shrugged off the last of his coat as he hung it up, taking her hand and walking into the hallway a little.

“This is such a nice place, Aaron. Oh! Your friend, wow, so grand,” The woman admired, now truly getting in your line of sight.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, eyes interlocking with yours before falling onto Gibbs. “I’m Aaron, call me Hotch.”

“I’m Gibbs,” Your boyfriend stood up, moving over to the other man with his hand stuck out. “Call me that.”

You had a feeling this evening wouldn’t be as smooth as you hoped.

——————

taglist - @wolviesbabes @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

(comment to be added, or a tag list for all my gibbs post)

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven. 

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind. 

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there. 

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair. 

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story." 

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.” 

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh. 

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?” 

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web. 

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project. 

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile. 

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter. 

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise. 

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine. 

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes. 

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile. 

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior. 

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers. 

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle. 

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

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[t-lostinworlds]

Wish You Didn’t (Peter Parker)

a/n: hello, hello. here’s another angst fic as ‘tradition’ since this is my first ever full peter parker fic so yeah, please be kind alska. this is very fluffy from the start but then it’s all downhill from there lol, hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: peter parker x female reader trope/genre: song fic - Wish You Didn’t Love Me by Jake Miller; best friends to...well; fluff and angst summary: You love Peter Parker with all that you have, but somehow, he doesn't find that as a good thing. Despite feeling the same way, to protect you, Peter wish you didn't love him at all. warnings: wholesome cuteness at the start to set you up for heartbreak, brief dark thought from peter, and swearing. word count: 13.9k+ (i mean, what’s new)

masterlist on bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Ugh."

Peter looked up from his textbook just in time to see you drop your bag on the table and then plop yourself down on the seat across him in the library. There was a look of pure frustration on your face, his brows furrowing at the sight of the deep frown written on your lips.

"What's up?" Peter asked, twirling his pen in his fingers as he tilted his head at you in concern.

You let out a big sigh, meeting your best friend's gaze with your frown still intact. "I've got a debate coming up tomorrow," you grumbled dejectedly.

The crease between Peter's brows could only deepen at your words.

You were the best on the debate team, always at the ready to take whatever topic it was thrown at you, headstrong. You're always excited to gush to him about what could be your winning argument, what would put the opposing team at a standstill. So, to see you be somewhat upset about an upcoming debate, it was so unlike you.

Maybe because it seemed last minute but by the looks of it, Peter can't help but feel like it was more than that.

"What's it about?" he asked.

You blew out your cheeks, hand coming up to play with the notebook he had on the table before you blurted out,

"Spider-Man: Friend or Foe."

Peter cleared out his throat just as he turned the page of his book to hide it, sitting straighter in his seat, pretending to get back to reading to avoid your gaze.

He didn't tell you.

Years and years of being best friends yet you didn't have an ounce of clue that you were sitting right across the person who was going to be the topic of your debate.

Peter trusts you of course, he trusts you with his life. His reason was simple really: he just didn't want to drag you into it.

Plus, knowing how worried you can get, he just didn't want to put you through all of that, especially on top of all things college and with what's going on in your personal life. He already feels so guilty with the stress he's put May through, he can't bear to see you have that burden too.

And most importantly, Peter just wanted to protect you.

"Still don't see why you're bummed about it," he said with a shrug, gaze running over the text printed on the paper but none of it was going inside his mind.

"I got picked to defend him."

Peter's head shot up at that, eyes narrowing on your seated form as he asked, "Oh, so you think he's a foe?"

"No..." you trailed off, eyes wandering around his slightly messy table littered with notes, textbooks and books, highlighters and everything in between. "Not really."

Closing his book, Peter leaned forward, arms rested on the surface with his full attention now on you. "Care to elaborate?"

You pursed your lips, shifting in your seat as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I mean, he's probably got good intentions but I've read about the Sokovia accords you know," you started, Peter nodding to show you that he was following. "And it's a debate. The other party would do their best to make him out to be a reckless vigilante. I can already think of so many arguments that they'd throw."

"Such as?"

"That he could be doing this for fame and attention, or that he is doing good things but his drive to do them isn't exactly the best. Is it for revenge? Bragging rights or maybe something darker? Another one could be that he's young, careless and naïve. We don't know what he's really capable of superpower wise which means he can probably hurt innocent people in the future.

"Not to mention if he's on the right or wrong side of the law. Who has to pay for the collateral damages that he has caused? Is it right to let him go scot free? I could go on and on and I just," you paused, resting one arm on the table and then placing your head on it as you looked up at your best friend. "I can't really counter those things with full force because I don't really know the dude nor do I have any real, solid facts about him to back up my claim that he's completely on the good side."

"Research hasn't done you good has it?" Peter hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as his hand came up to poke your cheek, a sweet attempt to try and rid of your frown.

You shook your head no with a deepened pout, taking his hand away from your face with your own free hand as your nimble fingers then played with his absentmindedly.

Peter's heart grew warm at the gesture.

"There's literally nothing on this spider dude aside from blog posts written by fanboys and girls gushing about how amazing he is. Which is never a great source since it's already so biased," you explained.

"What would truly help you aside from research?" he queried, eyes trained on the way you interlock your fingers together and then letting it go only for a second before interlacing them again, letting it go and repeat. It was such an adorable habit of yours, one that Peter has grown so fond of, your touch always delicate and sweet whenever you fidget with his hand.

"An interview I guess? It'd be nice to get to ask him a few questions. Like, it would help to know why I'm on his side. Get a perspective on why he does what he does, you know?" you sighed, eyes fluttering close with your frown still intact. "At least that way, I know I'm defending someone who I know is worth defending."

Peter hummed as he tore his eyes away from your intertwined hands and back on your sprawled out upper-half on the table. He pursed his lips, gaze on the dip and valleys of your beautiful but stressed face. His brain grew at odds the more he took in your deep frown—one he always hates seeing no matter the reason—as he raked his thoughts on what he could possibly do to help without having the trouble of revealing his secret to you.

"But it's genuinely impossible to talk to him—"

"You could send him an email," Peter blurted before he gave himself time to properly process his words. Hell, he didn't even get to weigh the odds and dangers of his proposition. But now that it already slipped out his mouth—

Shit. I don't think this is a good idea...

Your eyes snapped open as you gaped up at him, brows deeply furrowed as you wondered, "Spider-Man...has an email?"

Too late to back out now, Parker.

"Well, all the Avengers do, under Stark Industries to be specific," Peter said in the most nonchalant way he can muster. "Since, you know, Stark tech in their suits, modifications, upgrades, what color they want it as, etcetera, it's how they talk about those stuff."

You abruptly sat up, dropping his hand as you laid both of your palms flat on the table, eyes now twinkling with hope and excitement. "You think he'd actually see it?"

"Yeah, not many people know about it so," he trailed off with a shrug, opening his book again and flicking through the pages.

You leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze as you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. "How'd you know?"

Peter scoffed with a shake of his head, never looking away from his book given that you'd notice his lie right off the bat if he does so. "I don't know Y/N, probably because I work there," he pointed out. Well, technically it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.

"And you're giving me it?"

He shrugged, finally meeting your gaze. "I don't see why not? As long as you don't share it around or sell it," Peter warned, shooting you playful glare.

"Yes! Oh my—you are the best," you exclaimed excitedly, jumping out of your seat and rounding the table to give him a back hug. "You're a lifesaver Pete, thank you." With one last squeeze, you pulled away and swiftly snatched your bag, feet in a rush as you treaded towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked bemusedly.

"Sending the email! Hopefully I can talk to him tonight!" you called back to him.

Peter can't help but shake his head at you with a laugh, "I haven't even given you the email!"

"Just send—"

Sssh!

"Oops, sorry," you whispered, finger over your lips as you rushed back to his side with a bright smile. "Just text me it please? Love you," you hummed, hand landing on his shoulder as you leaned down to place a swift but sweet kiss on his cheek.

The skin where your lips once were quickly turned pink, Peter's heart skipping countless beats at that four-letter word, unable to conjure any response the more he thinks about the actual weight of the warmth that's grown in his chest. He's heard you say it to him many times before of course, but despite holding a different meaning—one with friendship laced around it—it never fails to make Peter's heart soar.

Albeit wanting it to mean something else, something more, Peter knows he shouldn't. Always quick to silence his heart on screaming for more given that it wasn't ideal, for your sake. He always reminds himself that he already feels utmost content with what he has with you now, content with the love you make him feel even if it's only to an extent.

It was enough, for your sake.

Nothing but adoration coated his features as his eyes followed your every movement. His heart grew even more when you beamed at him once you pulled away, ruffling his hair playfully before hurrying out of the library, shooting him one last smile and a wave before disappearing from sight.

Peter can't wipe his own grin off his face, just the sight of your beautiful smile and your joyful eyes, easily contagious on his part. But then realization dawned on him and the curve slipped away, replaced by a frown laced with panic as he pulled out his phone to check the time.

"Shit."

He quickly gathered up his things and rushed out of the library, taking the back door out of the building to the nearest alley. Peter had his eyes glued to his screen the whole time as he quickly made a fake but believable enough email before sending it to you.

***

"Heard you were looking for me?"

You let out a yelp, jumping a few inches back as you spun around towards the direction of the voice. A hand flew over your chest the moment your eyes landed on a figure, shock befalling you as you froze. He was squatted down on the ledge of the rooftop of your apartment building, red and blue faint under the night sky. "Oh my—uh, hi," you squeaked, eyes blinking rapidly to see if what you're seeing was actually real.

The wind was blowing cold, your black pants, plain t-shirt and jean jacket doing just enough to minimize it. The sound of the streets of Manhattan was echoing below, very busy but faint due to your distance from the ground, enabling you to still hear his voice loud and clear when he spoke again.

"Hi, I'm Spider-Man," he introduced as he offered you his hand, masked eyes trained on you as you cautiously walked towards him.

"I know. I'm Y/N," you said, hesitantly reaching out to take his hand, the material of his suit rough against your palm as you shook it. You were in absolute awestruck, eyes glowing with wonder as you did nothing but gape at him.

"I know," he said and you can practically hear his smile behind the mask. He gave your hand a squeeze, the odd feeling that coursed through your bones made you tilt your head at him in mere curiosity, brows furrowed in utter confusion. Mr. Spider-Man swiftly cleared out his throat, eyes casted down as he quickly let go of your hand. "It's on your email," he added hastily.

"Oh, yeah," you muttered. A few seconds passed and you just stood there, staring at him like some star struck fan as you rubbed your hands together in both the cold and slight nerves. After a few seconds more, you finally spoke, "Wow, okay, I didn't expect for you to actually show up."

You don't know where to actually begin.

The first thought you had after sending the email was that he'd never actually see it, or if he does, he'll simply ignore it. You had been ready to wait out in the cold for a couple hours, anticipated the letdown to be frank. Yet here he was, the Spider-Man, right in front of you who, amazingly, even arrived right on time.

Spider-Man was making you nervous.

Normally, you have no problem with doing interviews. It is a form of research after all, and being on the debate team, you've done countless of it. But right now feels different.

Maybe it was the fact that he was a fucking superhero. He's someone who has actually done quite a lot and has probably seen and experienced other worldly things just as much if not more. Or maybe it's the fact that you simply don't know where this will go from here.

Will it do well that you'd get to ask proper questions and get answers that would truly help or will he get cocky and rude that this interaction would only end up being a waste of time?

Despite being famous, he was a complete mystery to everyone. The person behind the mask was wholly unknown and that itself makes you very nervous.

With a shrug, he said, "Well, wouldn't pass helping a friend."

"Are you making your voice deep?" you asked, the sound of his voice a little too...computerized for it to be normal.

He nodded. "Voice modulator, it helps keep my secret identity, well, a secret."

"Oh, yeah, figured."

You stayed quiet again after that, arms crossing over your chest as you kept your gaze steady on him, features coated with a mixture of emotions from confusion, amazement, curiosity and everything in between.

He chuckled softly, probably noticing your painfully obvious shyness. "Got questions for me?" he prodded.

You blinked a few times before frantically nodding, recalling how you specifically said in the email that you just wanted to ask a few questions. You then took out your phone, showing him the voice recording app and asked, "Is this okay?"

Spider-Man tilted his head at you with a soft hum.

"Yeah, I trust you with it."

You smiled.

The pressure and nerves turned lighter on your shoulders as you somewhat felt more comfortable...safe around him. And there's just something about the fact that he trusts you that warms your bones. It's like he's certain you only have his best intentions in mind, as if he knows you weren't in this for a selfish gain. It's really comforting in a sense, makes you feel confident that you're on the right track.

It makes you feel good about yourself.

With a soft nod, you hit record, words of curiosity slipping out of your lips soon after. "Those webs, do they come out from you?"

"No, they don't," he chuckled, taking out a vile from his wrist and then handing it to you. "That is what you call web fluid and I make them."

You gingerly took it in your hands, eyes scanning it briefly before you gave it back. "Impressive."

"Thanks. So, the fluid is like the bullets and these right here"—he showed you the black bands on his wrists with his hands open—"Are the web shooters that make me well, shoot webs. Like so," he explained as he pressed the button on his palm, the webs streaming out soon after and snatching an empty can on the far corner before it landed back in his hand.

You pursed your lips with a nod. "So, you can make weapons," you said with a certain tone in your voice that caused him to shift in his place.

"I—uh, no?" he stuttered, placing the can back on the ground loudly and in a not-so-subtle way. "I will never build a nuclear bomb if that's what you're wondering," he rushed when you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.

"Didn't say anything about a nuclear bomb," you pointed out with a tilt of your head.

"I-I'm, uh, I didn't—"

"I'm just messing with you," you cut him off with a soft laugh, your nerves diminishing swiftly at how he seemed to be a little shy and awkward but in an endearing way. It makes him appear more human, normal. "You're so tense, just relax."

"Yeah…okay," he breathed out. He turned around to face the city, going from crouching to fully sitting down on the ledge, hands folding on his thighs as he looked at you over his shoulder. He jerked his head, gesturing for you to come closer to which you gladly did.

You leaned on the concrete with soft hum, placing your phone beside his thigh so it was now between you both. You scanned the beautiful city with a content smile, the view never ceasing to amaze you despite seeing it too many times before. The rooftop is your best escape after all. It was nice to be far away from everything, even if it's only for a moment. Nothing but peace coats you whenever you're up here, may it be from the gentle gush of the wind or the bright shine of the moon that spreads throughout the blanket of black sky.

With a sigh, you looked up at the mask man beside you. Flustered was what you came to be when you noticed that he was already staring at your face, the white and black of his eyes looking somewhat soft, and you swear he looked almost as if he's smiling behind the mask. Warmth was quick to coat your body, a stark contrast to the cold breeze as you cleared your throat, causing him to swiftly look away.

"Sorry, I'm just a little nervous," he chuckled shyly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Really want to impress you."

You felt your cheeks heat up, a timid smile growing on your lips as you shrugged. "No need to impress anyone, let alone me," you said. "Just be yourself Spider-Man."

Oh, I truly wish I could just be myself right now Y/N—

"Okay," Peter hummed with a smile.

"Are you sure this is fine?" you asked, gesturing towards your phone in the middle of you two. "I don't want to intrude or make you feel uncomfortable by recording our conversation."

Peter's heart grew warm as his smile widened. Always considerate you are, too kind for your own good. If it was someone else, he probably would've had loads of pictures taken by now. Or maybe even a hidden camera somewhere to catch him at the wrong moment. Many of which would then be posted on the internet to spread like wildfire. Not that he minded the photos and videos but it's off putting sometimes, especially when they churn out not-so-good headlines to match.

"Promise me you won't share or sell it?" he joked, mentally cursing himself soon after once he realized it's the same words he said to you earlier in the library. Although he felt a wash of relief right away when you didn't seem to notice as you only flashed him a sweet smile in return.

"I promise," you hummed, turning to face him as you leaned sideways on the ledge. "What other superpowers do you have?"

"Enhanced abilities such as super strength, I can run fast and heal fast. Dialed up senses meaning I can see, hear, smell and feel things on another level. I'm...sticky, meaning I can climb up walls and stick to stuff like how a spider would. And oh, spider sense," Peter elaborated, watching with amusement as he saw your eyes change from awe, confusion, to impressed and back to confusion.

"Spider sense?"

"I can sense danger and threats when it's coming, like I feel a tingle."

"That's really cool," you hummed, hand rapidly lifting up as you took a fast and big swing towards his shoulder. He caught your fist in his hand way before you could even have the chance to land a punch.

Peter shook his head at you in pure amusement, giving your fist a squeeze before he let it go. "That wasn't so successful now was it?" he chuckled.

"It was worth a try. Just testing the waters to see if it would trigger your 'spidey sense' as you call it," you laughed, quoting the two words with your fingers teasingly.

"It didn't because one, anyone could see that punch from a mile away, and two, I said dangers and threats," he paused, tilting his head at you adoringly. "And you're not really a threat."

"Hey, I can be threatening," you scoffed, chin up with your chest puffed out.

Peter couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips. "I'm sure you can. I bet you can handle yourself well, especially with proper training." He took in a deep breath before saying, "But that's not really what I meant."

"What did you mean?

"That I feel safe around you."

"Oh." You blinked at him a few times before you fully broke his gaze, suddenly turning bashful as your eyes watched the busy street below where the cars and people were scurrying about in the cold New York night. Squaring your shoulders, you added, "Well, for what it's worth, I feel safer around you now too."

Peter felt his heart leap out of his chest, a proud smile erupting on his face, gaze dropping on the ground—or lack thereof—shyly as red started to dust his cheeks. "That's worth a lot," he hummed, lifting his head at the same time you did, your eyes locking immediately.

You beamed at him sweetly, shifting on your feet before letting out a breath. "Right, onto a more serious question," you paused, gesturing at the whole of him with your hand. "Why exactly are you doing this?"

"What do you think is the reason why I'm doing what I do?" he asked back, eyes trained on your face for a moment before he looked straight ahead. He can feel your orbs burning a hole on the side of his face, your brows furrowed in a way that Peter could do nothing but grin widely. He always found your thinking face endearing.

"I don't know, could be a lot of things. Could be money, glory, revenge, bragging rights, most likely fame?" you suggested.

Peter shook his head, keeping his gaze on the building across. "If I was doing this for fame, you'd think I would've shown my face by now?"

"Touché."

"But no," he breathed out, eyes now trained on his feet as he swung them aimlessly on the edge of the building. "I just want to help to the best of my abilities. I feel like I was given these powers, me, for a reason. If I'm not going to use it for a good cause then what's the point of having them?" Peter turned to face you, holding your gaze securely, even behind the mask as he continued, "If I'm not going to help out the little guy, even if I can easily do that then, who will? I can't simply watch the world fall apart when I could've done something to prevent it or provided a little bit of help, you know?"

You nodded. "With great power comes great responsibility."

Peter cracked a smile. "Yeah, exactly," he hummed, gaze dropping to stare at his gloved hands, turning it over before clasping it together with a sigh.

"How do you feel about the people who think you're not on the good side? That you have some hidden agenda?"

"I pity them if I'm being honest."

"How so?"

"I mean, if you're at a point in life where you can't accept that someone is helping simply for the sake of helping, then you've must've gone through a lot to not trust easily," Peter started, fingers fidgeting with his web shooters before he met your gaze. "We've been taught to always think that there's an incentive in all that we do. If you give, you have to receive and vice versa. But why can't we simply give and not expect something in return? People are so accustomed to the whole give and take thing that when someone just gives, it feels unfamiliar. That's why they get suspicious. They overthink that surely I'm doing this for something else when there's really no other reason than simply wanting to help.

"I also get it. It's a cruel world we're living in unfortunately where we have to keep one eye open. But I wish people would begin to accept that someone is helping to make the world a better place by simply wanting to have a safe and better place. No hidden agenda whatsoever," he finished, brown orbs catching sight of how your smile grew wider, brighter.

"You're a wise man," you said with an appreciative nod. "With a really good heart too."

"Thanks. I try my best."

"I'd say you've probably lived a life, traveled the world, seen so many new things, been to space," you trailed off, raising a brow at him in question.

"Yeah, you could say that," he chuckled.

"Are you a billionaire? Are you a prince in disguise or maybe a king? Are you a lawyer? Or maybe some kind of mythical being like Thor?" you poked.

Peter laughed, shaking his head as he shrugged. "Nah, I'm just a kid from Queens."

Shit.

Peter you fucking idiot. You absolute dumbass—

"Huh, I've got a best friend who's from Queens," you muttered, voice barely above a whisper but thanks to his enhanced hearing abilities, of course he heard it loud and clear.

Peter bit the insides of his cheek to stop his smile, even though you weren't going to see it anyway since he has a mask on. I know you do. "Come on, I want to show you something," he said aloud instead, standing up to his full height with his hand out for you to take.

You narrowed your eyes at his outstretched palm before you looked up at his masked face. "Are you going to kidnap me now and sell my organs?"

Peter threw his head back with a hearty laugh, the sound ringing in the air as he shook his head at you. "No, I'm going to show you New York from a different angle," he said, smiling widely as he leaned over closer, hand open wide. "Do you trust me?"

"You did not just quote Aladdin," you laughed, taking your phone off the ledge to stop recording before shoving it in your pocket.

Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "What if I did?"

You smiled widely at that, placing your hand securely in his and giving it squeeze. "Then yes, I trust you."

Peter hoisted you up on the ledge with ease, both of you now standing side by side on the edge of the building. A small squeak came out of you when you curiously looked down and saw that the ground was actually very far away, your grip on his hand tightening when all you could think of was splat. He chuckled, moving closer to you as he lifted your arm and placed it over his shoulders, your eyes snapping back up to look at his masked face.

"Is this okay?" he hummed, his arm wrapping around your waist strongly once you gave him a nod approval. "Hold tight," Peter said.

"Please don't let me go," you whispered, worry-filled eyes boring into his own while a mixture of both nervousness and excitement coated your features.

"Never."

Peter jumped.

You screamed.

The strong gush of the wind swiftly hit your face, hair whipping around as your grip around him tightened starkly. You felt your stomach churn while you swung in the air, passing one building to another, going high up and then dropping back down in a swooping motion. Your legs wrapped itself around his waist almost instinctively, all in fear of falling to your death.

"This was a bad idea!" you screeched, head buried on the crook of his neck, eyes shut tight ever since your feet left the ledge.

"Open those eyes Y/N! You're missing all the fun!" Peter laughed, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. He felt you slowly pull your head away from his neck, lids inching open one by one until you finally gawked at the wonderful lights and blaring colors of the city in awe.

Your mouth fell agape the more you took the sight in, the city a blur but somewhat beautiful in its own unique way. You loosened your grip around his shoulder just so you could lift a hand up in the air, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as you felt the cold wind brush through your fingertips in the most comforting way.

That's when you let out a gleeful laugh.

Peter felt his heart melt ten times over at the beautiful sound. His cheeks were hurting from grinning ear to ear the more he took in how you're having the best time.

You looked absolutely breathtaking, the city lights casting a glow over your features, eyes holding nothing but pure bliss and wonder with that lovely, bright smile of yours to match.

The city was pretty sure, Peter loves seeing it at night whenever he does his patrol. But you, you were gorgeous, a stunning sight that he could never ever have enough of. You never do fail to make his heart stop, never fail to take his breath away, never fail to make his limbs all weak and Peter found himself falling deeper despite trying his hardest not to.

"This is so cool—no!" you shrieked, eyes wide with fear as you shot high up midair and went free falling for a few horrifying seconds before you landed back into his embrace, slotting right into his chest. Peter laughed as you quickly went to latch onto him, your grip viselike with both arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. He wrapped an arm around you securely as his other hand held tightly on the web, both of you now face to face as you continued to swing in the air.

You lifted your head up to look at him fully, faces now inches apart as you stared right into each other's eyes. Peter felt his heartbeat quicken when your orbs held a certain spark, as if you could see the actual him right behind the mask. His eyes fell on your lips, slightly parted as you gawked at him. They look really soft, very pretty, inviting.

He gulped.

At that point Peter wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed that he was wearing a mask. Because if he wasn't, then he would've already done something he might regret—or not—later on, especially with the consequences that would come with it.

But when you opened your mouth to start to speak, that's when Peter grew even more nervous on what could possibly be running in your thoughts.

Did you figure it out?

You didn't get a chance to say whatever it was you wanted to say when all movements stopped, Peter releasing you from his hold right as you felt your feet touch the ground.

"That was mean," you said once you gently pulled away from him. "You said you wouldn't let me go," you added, adjusting your hair and clothes before you shot him a pout.

"I'm sorry, I got a little distracted," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. It was a full on accident, mind preoccupied by all things you that he unconsciously loosened his grip around your waist which in turn, made you slip out of his grasp. "I'll always catch you though."

You pursed your lips at him with a tilt of your head. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you're flirting with me, Spider-Man."

Peter felt the heat rush up to his face in a split second. "I-I'm, uh—"

"Whoa," you cut him off once your eyes landed on the gorgeous city of Manhattan but much farther away and wider as you stood on a much higher building. The tall structures that surrounded the scene seemed like toys with their size, the lights that gleamed looking like little specks of stars floating in the air with the Empire State Building right at the middle of it all. "I haven't seen it this high up before," you said, giving him a swift glance before your eyes were back on the scenery. "It's really beautiful."

"Yeah, very beautiful," Peter sighed, brown orbs never leaving your features, his heart thumping in his chest, loud and fast, each beat all for you.

He walked over to where you were stood until your arms were brushing against each other. You spared him a glance, your smile wide and soft in a way that made his heart grow warm. But then you leaned your head on his shoulder and Peter swore he might as well die from a heart attack. If it were you with the enhanced senses, then you would probably catch him out quickly with how frantic and loud each beat his heart was making.

It wasn't new to him of course. You've always been the affectionate kind. And being your best friend, he's always at the receiving end of those affections.

But tonight feels a little different.

The fact that you feel safe around him without having to see his face, when all you see is Spider-Man, it makes his heart melt. The simple fact that you're comfortable when you're near him, that you can feel that you can trust him is really reassuring in a sense. It's like your heart is already familiar with who he is despite your brain—or your eyes—telling you that the person you're standing with right now is a complete stranger.

It feels really special when looking at it in that perspective, it makes Peter feel special.

Sudden boldness coursing through his bones, Peter snaked an arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze in the process. It took every ounce of his superhuman strength to keep his legs upright when you inched closer to his side, a soft breath coming out of you, a satisfied one. His eyes glowed with utmost adoration as it traced your features, from the soft smile playing on your lips to the twinkle in those irises as you kept your gaze on the stunning city in front. It baffles him how his heart quickened it's pace even more, just the sight of you in pure bliss. God he was so in love with you and you don't even have an ounce of clue.

Just say it out loud, tell her.

No, I can't. For her, I can't.

"It's getting late. I should probably head back home," you hummed, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. Peter nodded, arm dropping to your waist as he crouched down a little, just so you could sling an arm around his shoulder. "No dropping me this time," you warned, narrowing your eyes at him teasingly.

Peter laughed with a nod. "Yes ma'am."

The swing back to your apartment building took no time.

Despite wanting to drag the night out a little longer, Peter knew he can't do that to you when your debate was tomorrow, especially among countless papers and homework he knows you need to get to. Plus, he has his own errands he needs to tend to as well. Both of you landed on the ledge smoothly with you laughing at some bad joke he made. Peter helped you down like the gentle man that he is and giving your hand one last squeeze before he lets it go.

"Thank you for tonight," you said as you turned to his figure that remained standing on the ledge. Nothing but a wide, genuine smile played on your lips as you added, "Everything of tonight."

"Don't mention it," Peter said sweetly. "I had a really great time with you—shit. I hope that doesn't sound creepy or anything but I really did enjoy tonight, you know, our conversation, getting close with you and feeling you close to me while we were swinging...okay, I'll stop talking."

You let out the sweetest giggle that Peter could do nothing but swoon, his eyes softening as he tilted his head at you with the most adoring smile he could ever have the pleasure of wearing.

"I had a great time being close with you, too," you hummed, holding his gaze for a moment before you casted your eyes at the ground shyly. Shifting from your heels and toes, you pointed towards the rooftop door, before timidly meeting his eyes again. "I should probably—"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Peter chuckled, shooting you a curt nod. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spider-Man," you said, swiftly turning around as you went towards the door, giving him one last glance over your shoulder when you pulled it open. He gave you a wave in response, your smile widening before you slipped inside and closed the door right behind you.

Peter had the stupidest, most shit-eating grin on his face that he don't think he could ever wipe off, eyes fluttering close as he spread his arms wide. With a satisfied breath, he slowly leaned backwards, letting gravity take its course as pure euphoria coated every fiber of his being.

Never has he ever felt such joy, freedom and utmost content as Peter lets himself fall.

***

"Hello there."

Peter looked up from his notes only to be met by a set of green eyes, completely taking him by surprise since it wasn't the pair of orbs he was expecting—and really excited—to see. It confused him to the core as to why one of the most popular girls on campus was sitting down right in front of him in the library.

"Hi?" he said, word coming out more as a question than a statement as he furrowed his brows.

"Peter right? Marjorie," she introduced, hand coming across the table to which he shook gingerly.

"Yeah, that's me." Peter smiled shyly, the crease on his forehead deepening the more he raked his brain as to why she's talking to him in the first place. Of course he knows who she is, the whole school does. Hell, he can already hear the whispers of gossip echoing about all because she's sitting right at his table, or as a matter of fact, simply because she's in the room. That's how big of a deal she is.

Marjorie moved forward, both her arms resting on the table with her bust right on top of it, the low cut top she wore doing so little to hide it, cleavage right up his face. Peter was quick to look away with a clear of his throat, eyes trained on his notes as a blush coated his cheeks.

She suddenly brought two fingers under his chin, prompting him to look back up. "Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you pretty boy," she purred, a sly smirk growing on her lips when his blush deepened. She inched closer until she was fully leaning over the table and into his space, her thumb running across his chin teasingly. Peter's eyes grew wide in downright surprise and confusion, keeping his gaze locked with hers and never looking anywhere else—mostly not looking down—as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Anyway, I heard you're really smart and I happen to find you really cute too. Not just a pretty face, aren't you Peter. So, I was wondering—"

Peter could feel you coming, hear you even, that all too familiar sound of your giddy and specifically patterned footsteps ringing in his ears. And dare he say it, he could smell your shampoo, the scent gradually growing stronger which was a clear indication that you were getting closer to the library.

He was left downright confused when you only stopped at the door, your heartbeat quickening by a mile as you stilled. Peter grew worried at the uneven sound of your breathing, all shallow and labored, the first thing that happens whenever you're in slight panic. He removed his eyes briefly from the girl across him only to see you turn on your heel in one swift motion and then completely disappearing from sight.

What was wrong? Where were you going?

"I, uh, I'm really sorry but I need to go." Peter quickly pulled his face away from Marjorie's hand, standing up from his seat all while shoving his things in his backpack. "I-It was nice meeting you," he said with a small smile before he sprinted towards the door.

He didn't see you anywhere near the building, didn't see you anywhere on campus at all.

It worried him even more when you ignored his texts and calls for the rest of the day. He knew your schedule but somehow, the moment he reached your class, you were already gone. Or maybe you hadn't even attended class in the first place. There was no other way of him knowing your whereabouts and he was growing really concerned by the second as to what had happened. So, he went with the last option he could think of on finding you quicker.

Peter slipped his mask on with a sigh, the sun already going down when he decided to try and pay you a visit in a very different set of clothes.

***

"Hi."

"What the fu—" You jumped with a yelp as you swiftly turned to face him, hand over your chest to try and calm your heart as you gaped at his masked face. "What are you doing here?"

Three times he's passed your apartment building and you weren't home. But by the fourth try, Peter's worry could only grow some more when he saw you out on the rooftop. You never stay out on the rooftop unless something was deeply bothering you.

"Wanted to know how the debate went," Peter reasoned, not the main agenda but it wasn't entirely a lie either.

"Well, my team won so that's great," you sighed dejectedly, leaning down to rest your elbow on the ledge while your chin landed on your palm.

"You don't seem enthusiastic? You still don't think I'm a friend?"

"No, no, I do now. It's just things in here." You tapped your temple, letting out another sigh when you brought your finger down to your chest, right where your heart is supposed to be and added, "Or in here rather."

Peter frowned. "What's up?"

"Who knew Spider-Man was into gossip," you teased, turning to flash him a small smile.

"Just curios," he hummed with a casual shrugged, settling himself down on the ledge, facing you this time around. "Besides, it's always better to let it out."

"It's just boy problems," you breathed out, eyes back on the orange tinted sky.

Peter felt a lump grow in his throat, heart sinking to his stomach at the thought of you thinking about another guy. He was quick to scold himself, telling his mind not to be selfish as he cleared his throat.

"Hit me."

"Well, there's this boy I like—" you stopped yourself, lips pursed as you started to fidget with your fingers, thinking face that Peter knows so well now in full play. "Actually no, I've been in love with him for as long as I can remember," you admitted.

The ache in Peter's heart grew sharper, painful and overwhelming that he felt his body run cold. His throat grew dry that he could do nothing but nod his head with a hum to tell you he's still following.

"He's amazing, greatest guy I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and he has never failed to show that he cares about me. He's always there for me, whenever he can anyway with his hectic life. And he makes me really happy." A love-struck smile grew on your lips, eyes glowing with adoration, face holding that look of love as you bask in the sunset. The golden glow made you look even more stunning, but Peter wasn't able to fully appreciate your beauty when his mind was too preoccupied with jealous thoughts. But a second later, the joy that's coated your features slowly faded off, now replaced by one with worry.

Peter tried his best to keep his tone steady. Despite having the voice modulator on, he knows it will pick up even the slightest shake and uncertainty. "But?"

"I truly can't figure out if he's acting the way he is because he feels the same way or all of it is just an act of friendship," you paused, taking in a deep breath as you shifted on your feet. "There are moments where I do think it's more but then there are moments where I see him with another girl and I start questioning it again. Like, am I reading things wrong? Am I getting too ahead of myself by thinking he could possibly feel the same way?" You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. "I don't even know how to convey my own feelings—"

"You could just tell him," Peter blurted to cut you off, not wanting to hear any more as the piercing pain in his chest could only deepen the more you talk about it. He's already got the drift anyway, no need for you to explain any further.

You turned to look at him fully with furrowed brows. "Just like that?"

Peter nodded. "You are an amazing girl Y/N," he said, nothing but utmost sincerity coating his voice. He just wants you to find someone who's going to make you happy and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It seems like you've found exactly that, who was he to take that away from you by being bitter? Besides, Peter has long accepted that that someone is never going to be him. "Whoever this guy you're in love with, he's pretty lucky. If he doesn't see that then it's his loss. And if he doesn't feel the same way, then he's not the right guy for you because you deserve someone who'll love you unconditionally."

"You giving out relationship advice now too? A sideline if you're not saving the world?" you joked, only earning a shrug and a soft laugh from him. "But thank you." You flashed him a small but grateful smile.

"Always happy to help," he said. "I better get going, got a city to look after." Peter forced a smile, a useless tactic given that there was no way for you to see it anyway. He stood up to his full height before adding, "Congrats on the debate." He didn't even wait for a response when he swiftly jumped and swung as far away from your building as possible.

The second he landed on top of an abandoned warehouse, Peter immediately pulled his mask off. He couldn’t bear to leave it on a second longer or else he was going to suffocate. Sharp breaths escaped him as his back hit the brick wall, eyes screwed shut to stop any tear from slipping out of his burning eyes. He tried his hardest to calm his frantic heart, to minimize the pain by shoving his selfish thoughts away. He forced himself to think about you and your well-being instead, tried to convince himself that this was a good thing.

He doesn't doubt that this guy you're smitten with is a great one. The way you speak about him just screams it. Add that to you being great at judging character, then he knows you're in good hands. Despite it hurting like a ton of punches in the chest, Peter still hoped that whoever this guy is, he'll catch you in his arms openly and shower you with the truest love because you deserve nothing but. The pain would be worth it if he gets to see you be happy.

Peter knows that whoever this guy is, he would treat you rightly, give you everything you want and need in a way that Peter never could.

Slowly opening his eyes, he lets out a calming breath, mind slowly slipping at ease the more he thinks about how happy, content and safe you'll be with this guy if ever it will work out.

It hurts, unbearably, but his sliver of pain in exchange for your utmost happiness? Then Peter will gladly endure it.

***

The next day, Saturday noon, was when you finally decided to answer Peter's texts from the day before. You apologized for ghosting him, said you got preoccupied and left it at that. And then you asked if he wanted to go for a little stroll in the park, too make it up to him. Peter could never say no to you so here you were, side by side under the afternoon sun, aimlessly walking around a nearly deserted park outskirts of the main city.

"Why'd you disappear yesterday?" he asked, both his hands in his pockets while yours were looped in his. "I saw you stop by at the library but you didn't come and say hi."

You shrugged, eyes trained on the pavement as you kicked at the few rocks that were lying around. "Something came up," you simply said.

Peter can't help but feel a little sting when you didn't elaborate further. Well, he already knew what had happened but that was as Spider-Man. He was hoping you'd tell him too, as Peter Parker, your long time best friend.

"Thank you for the email by the way," you spoke again when he stayed quiet, lifting your head up to spare him a bright smile. "We wouldn't have won the debate if it wasn't for you."

"Winning the debate was all on you and that incredible brain of yours. I'm not going to take credit for that," he chuckled as he shot you a knowing look. Eyes back in front, Peter added, "But I'm always here to help. That's what best friends are for."

You hummed, letting go of his arm as you skipped ahead and treaded towards the nearest tree. "What's up with you and Marjorie?" you asked, settling down on the grass, legs straight with your right ankle over you left as you leaned back against the trunk comfortably.

"What's up with what?" Peter followed you with a deep crease between his brows, sitting right beside you soon after, mirroring your position under the shade.

"You tell me, you were almost kissing when I saw you in the library so," you trailed off, picking at the shreds of greenery, throwing it purposelessly as you still avoided his gaze. "Are you two a thing now?"

Peter shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "First off, we were not almost kissing and second, no, we're not a thing," he clarified, head turned for him to see you clearly. "I didn't even get to hear what she wanted because I immediately left," he chuckled.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his. "You bailed on her in the library?"

"Sort of?" Peter scrunched his nose.

"That's a very bold move, Parker," you giggled, bumping your shoulder with his teasingly. "Most guys would've died to just be in the same room as her."

Peter let out a hearty laugh, shrugging his shoulders and said, "Well, I guess I'm not like most guys."

Marjorie was pretty, Peter won't deny that, but she could never amount to you. Even right now, when you're just sitting beside him in casual jeans and sweater, a simple but very charming smile on your lips as you looked up at the clouds, Peter was already swooning ten times over. Then comes the memory of you looking so breathtaking while he took you around the city. The stunning glow on your face as you stared at the scene in awe was still deeply engraved in Peter's mind, and he knows for a fact that that image will never leave him. Not that he was complaining anyway.

"So, how did your meeting with Spider-Man go?" he asked after a few moments of silence. A shy smile slowly grew on your lips, one that made Peter lift a brow at you in suspicion.

"He's really cool," you breathed out, your grin growing wider as you kept your gaze steadily trained at the blue sky. "He's a gentleman too, a little shy and awkward but in a cute way. Plus, very wise and smart, like lived-a-life wise and genius smart. He then took me to swing around the city which was awesome," you gushed, a dreamy glow coating your face as you met Peter's eyes. "That night is going to be a night I'll remember for the rest of my life for sure."

Peter couldn't help the smug grin that grew on his face. "If I hadn't known better I'd say you have a crush on Spider-Man," he teased, wriggling his brows at you.

"Shut up," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

"It's obvious. You have that dreamy look on your face when you talk about him," he poked even more, nudging you with his elbow playfully.

"No, I don't," you laughed as you pushed him away. "Besides, I've got my eyes on someone else already."

Peter's heart sunk.

He found himself playing with the sleeves of his hoodie as he avoided your gaze, trying his hardest to keep his feelings at bay before you'd notice the change in his demeanor. "Care to share with your best friend?" he offered, wondering if you're finally willing to tell him about this mystery guy.

You stayed quiet, eyes fluttering close as you rested your head on his shoulder. Peter kept his gaze steady on you, everything else silent aside from the sound of the rustling leaves of the tree. But then you let out a nervous breath, heartbeat picking up the pace in a way that made Peter grow curious as to what's on your mind.

"I love you," you blurted out of the blue, a slight shake in your voice as you kept your eyes shut.

Although confused, Peter responded, "I love you too—"

"No, Peter," you paused, shifting in your place, pulling away from him as you sat up straighter. You finally met his brown orbs, all while countless of emotions swam in yours. "I love you," you whispered but with your voice firm and laced with pure sincerity, eyes holding his with such intensity that he quickly understood.

Peter stared at you in shock.

Slowly, but surely, everything started to click inside his head. The confession you shared with Spider-Man. When you said you'd seen this guy with another girl...the library. Was that why you quickly ran out? When you saw...almost kissing. Was that the reason why your heart suddenly grew at panic?

The guy you were gushing about so fondly, the same one you said you were in love with for a long time now, the one Peter was growing jealous of...it was him.

You were talking about him, Peter Parker.

He grew at a loss for words as he gawked at you, a smile growing on his lips as he felt his heart stop its course and then beat again but with twice the pace. Peter was so happy, over the universe as pure warmth filled him up from head to toe. The mere thought that you felt the same, it was too good to be true. But it was, he can see it clear in your eyes, it was real.

You love him.

But then his mood was quick to shift, smile slipping off his face, the warmth and joy that coated his bones replaced by fear and worry in a snap of a finger.

Peter's heart stopped at the sight in front of him.

You were getting held at knifepoint by the throat, tears brimming in your eyes, more of it coating your cheeks as you clawed at the arm that trapped you in their vise hold.

"P-Peter, I love you," you whimpered, gaze locking with his, hope slipping out of your orbs, the glow they once held getting dimmer by the second in a way that made a shiver run down his spine. Then Peter heard it, that piercing cackle he knew too well, his brown eyes meeting the yellow ones that glowed right behind you.

"You won't be able to save the love of your life, Spider-Man...or should I say, Peter Parker!"

Peter shook his head frantically as he yelled out your name, running at full speed to get to you only to be met by sudden darkness, your heart wrenching scream ringing in his ears followed by an agonizing sound of a body hitting the floor. Peter's blood ran cold as he frantically called out your name, over and over and over yet nothing but eerie silence echoed back at him.

And then he looked down, eyes landing on his trembling hands, each finger, both palms coated with blood, your blood.

You were gone.

"No, no, no," Peter rushed, voice quivering, hastily getting up on his feet as he looked at you worryingly. "You can't, Y/N. You can't love me."

It's not safe for you to love me.

The look of pure pain that ghosted over you features squeezed at Peter's heart, the pit in his stomach ever growing the more he thought of what he was about to do.

You stood up shakily to be level with him, deep frown on your lips, confusion and hurt swimming in your eyes as you asked, "Why'd you seem disgusted? You could just say you don't feel the same way."

"N-No, it's not that, neither of that because—" he sucked in a sharp breath, a hand running through his hair as he stared into your eyes longingly. "I do feel the same way about you."

You screwed your eyes shut as you shook your head. "Please don't lie to make me feel better, Peter," you pleaded, the break in your voice a sharp stab at his chest.

"When have I ever lied to you?" Peter internally winced at his bold and very false claim. Nothing but guilt filled his stomach given that he lies to you almost every day. He lies to you about his whereabouts, lies to you about his reasons. Peter lies to you every goddamn day by not telling you he's Spider-Man.

"Then why are your actions speaking something else then?" You gestured towards him as a whole, at the obvious distance that he's put between you two. Your eyes were slowly glossing up as you tried to simply understand what was going on.

Peter sighed, "I just don't want to hurt you okay? I—I don't want you to lose faith on the things you love because of me."

I don't want you to lose your life because of me.

"You're not making any sense," you said frustratedly.

"I'm not qualified to be a good boyfriend, Y/N. I won't be there with you all the time. I'd probably cancel on you on so many dates," Peter paused, meeting your eyes so you could see where he was coming from. "Hell, how many times have I bailed on you right now as your best friend huh? The amount of times I've left you on the street to go home alone?"

Your frown deepened as you held his eyes with nothing but sadness. "You had things going on Peter. You're being really unfair on yourself," you said.

"But you still don't deserve to be treated like that. Not now, not ever, no matter the reason," he pushed. "You deserve all those romantic clichés you're always dreaming of, you deserve to be treated like the queen that you are. You deserve the whole world Y/N, but I won't be able to give you that." Peter's voice broke, eyes holding too many emotions as he kept his gaze steady with yours. A painful task with all the pain and betrayal that's coated your eyes, utmost hurt glaring right at him. "Being with me won't be a fairytale."

Peter wasn't ignorant to the fact that you were a hopeless romantic. The countless rom-coms you've watched together have long ago proved that. The specific look in your eyes, that certain glimmer that washes over your face whenever the couple would kiss under the snow or even in the rain, or whenever they'd go on romantic walks on the beach or simply be in each other's arm whenever it's needed, Peter has memorized it. The little changes in your face whenever you see those clichés, he knows it like the back of his hand, knows how you're craving that kind of simple but true love.

But Peter can't give you any of that. Not right now.

"But I don't want a fairytale. I want to be with you. I don't care if we don't get to do any romantic clichés, being with you would surpass all of that, being with you would be more than enough. And I'm willing to try and make it work with whatever you've got going on, even if I have to make sacrifices in the process. Why can't you see that Peter?" you argued, hands clenched into fists on your sides in mere frustration.

Peter winced, the word sacrifice too heavy for him to hear. It was too painful to even fathom what you would possibly sacrifice for him, that you would probably even sacrifice all of it for him, including your life.

"No, no, please don't," he begged. "I don't want you to sacrifice anything for me. I would never want you to sacrifice those little things that make you smile. I don't want you to sacrifice your happiness for me." Peter shook his head in utter distress, palm rubbing at his face harshly that had the tip of his nose turn red. "And what happens then if it doesn't work? You'll only get disappointed. You'll only end up hating me. By then, I would have already put you through so much hurt all for nothing. I don't want that for you, Y/N."

"How'd you know that when you haven't even tried?" you whispered, bottom lip trembling. "It's like you're not even willing to try," you whimpered.

The second Peter saw the single tear that ran down your cheek he instinctively moved closer, hands reaching out, desperate to hold you, to get to tell you it's going to be alright, to apologize over and over for all the pain he has caused. But you stopped him with the palm of your hand. He felt his heart drop the moment you took a step back, shaking your head, bottom lip desperately caught between your teeth to silence your sobs.

Peter nodded gravely, his arms falling limp by his sides, fully understanding that you don't want him near. He doesn't blame you by one bit. "It's not that I'm not willing to, I just," he paused as he let out a shaky breath. "I don't trust myself to be with you. I don't trust myself with your heart because I know I will only end up breaking it. I'll only let you down." I don't trust myself to keep you safe from harm. I'll only fail you just like how I failed them. Peter confessed, brown orbs turning glossy, all from a mixture of pain and anger. He was so angry at himself for putting you through all this hurt, you don't deserve it, not even a single ounce of it.

Yes, he can try, see where this will go and do his best to be there for you at all times. But that's not set on stone, never a clear promise because he doesn't know what his tomorrow is going to bring. He doesn't know if he's staying in the neighborhood one minute and then entering another dimension the next. Being Spider-Man, he doesn't have a schedule where Peter can organize things as a matter of priority, being Spider-Man requires its own sets of sacrifices. Peter doesn't want you to feel the burden of those sacrifices, too.

He doesn't doubt that you would be understanding enough with whatever it is he has going on but that's exactly the problem. He knows you'll take the bare minimum, you'll put him first above your wants and needs. You're just too kind that way, too big of a heart. But Peter can't have that because it's just not right; it's not what you should settle for. You deserve all the dates, all the romantic walks, all the cuddles and kisses whenever you're down, all the stress free nights where you don't have to worry about him or wait for him to come back to you safe and unharmed, all the time and effort, you deserve all of it and more.

And right now, Peter can't give you what you deserve.

"Or maybe you just don't love me in the way you say you do," you accused, voice soft but the sting in it sharp.

"That's not fucking true because I love you with every ounce of my being," he protested in low growl, desperately tugging at his hair, frustrated that he can't tell you his full reasons as to why exactly he can't be with you. "I love you too much and I want to be with you so badly—"

"Then why is that not enough?" you stressed.

"You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!" you snapped, tears running freely down your face as you looked at him with utmost despair.

"It's not that fucking simple Y/N!" Peter saw you flinch at the sudden boom of his voice, his heart cracking at the sight. He felt everything in him gradually break the more you stared at him with nothing but anguish. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before he slips out any words that he'll only regret later on. Blowing out his cheeks, he croaked, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just—"

Peter tried again and walked closer to you, trembling hands slowly reaching in mere need to feel your skin on his to ground him back, relief washing over him when you let him. He felt his heart warm up a little when you didn't pull away from his touch. But the broken sob you let out when he cupped your face, it was too excruciating for him to hear. The agonizing grip on Peter's heart tightened as he stared right into your eyes, the same ones that once held so much joy but was now flooded with tears and grief, their gorgeous glow snuffed out, all because of him.

"I'm just trying to protect you, please, trust me on that," he whispered, not even trying to hide the brokenness in his voice anymore, not even trying to hold back his tears as Peter pressed his forehead against yours.

The little droplets fell down on your face, his tears joining yours on your already damp skin. His thumb oh so tenderly tried to wipe them all away, wishing that it was as easy as that to ease up your pain, to take away your hurt so simply, but he knows it wasn't. It wasn't an easy choice and Peter knows it never will be.

"I love you so much, don't you ever, ever doubt that. B-But we can't. I'm really sorry Y/N, but we can't be together. I-I know this hurts right now, trust me, I know, but I will only make it much worse," he choked, shaking his head when you leaned into his palm with a broken breath. But you kept your eyes open, held his gaze with utter strength and Peter saw it, saw how you still looked at him with love in your eyes. Despite it being mixed with pain, it was there, clear and honest. God he did not fucking deserve you at all.

"You deserve someone who'd treat you the way you deserve to be treated, someone who'd truly show you how it feels to be loved completely and not just the bare minimum. You deserve someone who'd be so much better than me." Peter's voice broke at the end of his sentence, eyes still holding yours just so you could see the other things he can't put into words, the things he couldn't say aloud. He was desperately, silently pleading that you would see right through him, so you could understand why he has to do this. "Maybe in another life, we could make this work. But right now I'm asking, begging you not to love me, because I don't deserve that love, I don't deserve you at all."

Peter practically saw your heart shatter into pieces even more with the simple look in your eyes. It's an absolute torture to look into them right now, to see you be so broken that he found himself wishing that it was only him in pain instead. Even though the thought hurts, he wished you didn't love him. Even though it would be painful to endure, to live in a world where his feelings aren't reciprocated, Peter wished you didn't love him at all if it meant it was going to save you from heartbreak.

Better him in pain than you, always.

Breath unsteady, you closed your eyes with a small nod. "I guess this is it," you sniffled, placing your hands over his, your touch tender as you gave it a squeeze. But then you pulled it away from your face, Peter's hands slipping off your skin as you put some much needed distance between you two.

"Y/N—"

"I don't think we can go back to the way things were after this Peter. I'm sorry I just—I don't think I can handle it." You shook your head with a soft cry, forcing yourself to look back into those brown orbs as you whispered, "I can’t take it."

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes casted on the grass with a solemn nod as he croaked out, "Then I guess this is it."

"Goodbye, Peter."

He screwed his eyes shut at the sound of your broken voice, the heartbreaking sob that followed soon after made him let out a shaky breath. The sound of your footsteps felt like gunshots, each step taken like a bullet wounding him deep but Peter didn't dare to respond, didn't even dare to look up as you briskly walked away.

Peter had to keep his head down because he didn't have enough strength, didn't have the sense of control to stay still in his place. He knows that if he does as much as look up and catch your figure, he'll run after you, full speed. He'll pull you back into his arms; he'll pour all his love into one kiss as he holds you tightly. He'll keep you in his embrace for eternity the moment he gives in into his selfish needs. But he shouldn't. He needs to let you go, he has to let you walk away, for your sake.

The farther the sound of your footsteps got, the tighter his fists grew, fingernails digging into his palms as his breathing became labored, harsh. Peter swiftly turned around and took a hard swing at the tree once you were gone, glad that no one was around to see the whole thing shake from his strength. The bark cracked under his knuckle, leaves falling around him just as his knees gave out. A sharp, broken, frustrated scream escaped his lips as he buried his face in his hands, body shaking with all the anger and pain, trembling from his heart wrenching sobs.

Peter felt like his lungs were about to give out, emotions overflowing and scorching all while feeling numb just the same. But he kept reminding himself why he's doing this for him to get by, kept telling himself that being far apart was for the best.

For your sake.

***

The wind was cold on your face as you stood out on the rooftop to escape. The night breeze was slowly drying up your tears, much to no use since it's replaced by fresh ones the second after anyway. You don't know how long you've been crying for, but it wouldn't really matter. Your tears could run out but the pain in your heart could only deepen with each ticking second.

You were worried, angry, hurt, frustrated and confused all the same, unable to tie everything together as it all just seemed like a whole jumbled mess in your head, an incomplete puzzle.

You're not naïve to think that there wasn't more to this than he's letting on. You know he was hiding bits and pieces, his words completely restrained. You saw it in his eyes how he was battling his mind. You saw how he was struggling to not slip out whatever it was he was holding back. It was painful, all of it, from seeing him so distressed to him breaking your heart with his care-filled yet hurtful words.

You get where he's coming from, about wanting you to experience it all and more and not just the bare minimum. If it was a different circumstance, the things he said would've been sweet, how he wants you to have the world, how he wants you to live all those clichés just so he could see you smile, see you be happy. But right now, his words just felt bittersweet since you lost him in the process.

All those days of imagining all the different scenarios on what it would look like, how it would feel when he admits he feels the same way, not once did you ever expect that Peter Parker saying he loves you would feel like a knife to the heart.

What hurts even more is the fact that he is so keen on shutting any chance, and sliver of hope down. He won't even try, like you're not worth any risks at all. It makes you question how important you actually are to him, makes you question if he really does love you in the way he claims he does.

"Ahem."

"Shit!" you squeaked, head snapping towards the squatted figure, eyes landing on the familiar masked man who seemed to like the element of surprise. "You need to stop doing that!"

"Sorry, should've given you a heads up," he apologized, voice sounding a little hoarse, a little...different.

"No shit," you grumbled, hastily wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your sweater before you turned back to face him. "What's brought you here?"

"Was just in the neighborhood, saw you out here and I thought I'd swing by," he said with a casual shrug, gaze steady on the building across. You did just the same as you turned back in front, fingers drumming on the concrete ledge as you stood in silence for a couple minutes, his company soothing in some odd way. But you welcome it, makes you feel more present, stopping you from slipping neck deep into the chaos that's in your head.

"You okay? You seem a bit down," he said, voice still a little gruff, eyes everywhere else but at you.

"Well, I guess you can say that," you breathed out.

"Want to talk about it?"

You bit your bottom lip when it started to tremble, a fresh batch of tears brimming in your eyes. "I told him," you whispered. "You know that friend I talked to you about? I told him I'm in love with him and he wasn't too happy with it. He pushed me away, I—" You shook your head with a shaky breath, eyes now trained on the busy street below. You swallowed the lump in your throat before adding, "He said he loved me but he pushed me away."

The superhero beside you cleared out his throat, shifting in his place until he was fully seated down, his legs hanging off the side of the building. "Did he tell you why?"

"He said he wouldn't be a good boyfriend and that he won't be there for me when I need him. He said I deserved better, which doesn't make any sense because he's already been doing that, being there for me. And I have no doubt he'd treat me rightly but he doesn't seem to believe that himself," you whimpered, harshly wiping away the tears that rushed out your eyes, not wanting to seem pathetic for a boy, not to seem weak in front of the masked hero.

"Hey, you don't have to act all tough for me," he reassured, hand coming up to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze for a short but sweet moment. "It's okay to cry, it doesn't mean you're weak."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding, flashing him a sad smile for a second before you stared back at the city. "And I get he's got a lot going on, I do too but what's painful is that he's not even willing to try and see if it would work or not. It hurts to think that I'm willing to try and make ends meet, that I would do anything to be with him, but he won't do the same for me. It makes me feel like I'm not worth fighting for, that I'm not enough."

"That's not true, Y/N," he whispered, almost as if didn't want you to hear it, your brows furrowing a little as you spared him a glance. He was already looking at you but the second your eyes landed on his face, he swiftly looked away. "What else did he say?" he asked swiftly, voice louder with a clear of his throat.

"He said he can't be with me because he didn't want to hurt me which sounds so fucking stupid since he's hurting me now. Really badly," you whimpered, bottom lip quivering as you screwed your eyes shut, taking in deep calming breaths, steadying yourself before you opened them again.

"Maybe he is just trying to look out for you," he started, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with a shaky breath. "Sometimes the best way to protect someone is to keep them at a safe distance, to not get too close to them, both physically but mostly emotionally."

You frowned, gaze landing back on the white fabric that's covered his eyes. "You do that too? Push people away?"

"I don't want to but I have to," he sighed, looking down at his hands like they were too heavy, like they hold so much weight over his life, caused him so much trouble and pain. He stared at them for a few seconds more before his fingers started to pick at his web shooters. "It's the best way to keep the people I care about safe."

"Because of all the bad guys chasing after you?"

He let out a soft chuckle as he nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."

You turned to face him fully, deep frown still etched on your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Does that not get lonely?"

"It does." He nodded dejectedly, his eyes still looking elsewhere. "But it's better than seeing the ones I love get hurt because of the sole reason that they love me and that I love them just as much, if not more. Once they find out who I am, they're going to use that against me. They will always use that against me." The pain and hurt that coated his voice in his last sentence, you heard it loud and clear, makes you wonder what hardships he could've gone through to feel this way. "I think it's best to keep them away from this side of my world. I admit, it's really hard for me to stay away but I just keep reminding myself that all I'm doing is trying to keep them safe as much as I can," he paused, turning his head to finally look at you and you felt your heart stop at his next set of words.

"I'm just trying to protect them."

You felt as though that the clouds cleared up above your head, the puzzle pieces falling into place, completing itself as you slowly and finally tied everything together.

All those times he's suddenly in a rush to leave with a half-assed reason, the times where you'd catch a glimpse of the random cuts and bruises he had on his body, it all became so clear. And the night you first met Spider-Man, that odd feeling you had when he squeezed your hand the first time, it finally made sense. That same night, you felt as though you were crazy when you found yourself gravitating towards a complete stranger, a masked superhero at that. You found it ridiculous how you felt like you could trust him right off the bat. When you felt a vast feeling of being safe around him in so little time, initially you told yourself that it wasn't a good thing, that it was dangerous and you should tread carefully, but now the feeling just felt awfully familiar.

That's when you fully understood everything. The knots in your head gradually untangled itself as you gawked at him, mouth slightly agape in pure shock, tears welling up in your eyes for a different reason this time. All the things he's been through, all the pain and grief from the people he's lost, the weight that the world has put on his shoulders, it made your heartbreak. It made you feel so guilty that you weren't there for him through all that.

A new found weight settled itself in your chest because as you stared right at the mask, you saw him.

"Well, I need to go. You know, got a city to look after," he chuckled shyly as he looked away, his voice sounding starkly different from the previous encounters as it now held a sense of familiarity. "See you later."

With that, he jumped off, your eyes following the red in blue under the night sky, gradually getting smaller until disappearing from sight.

You smiled, a small one, didn't quite reach your ears but it was genuine. Your heart was still aching, mostly for him than for you, but it was also now filled with the greatest pride as you whispered, just under your breath,

"See you later, Peter Parker."

-:-:-:-:-

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