#and she stepped out of her car and helped me

[amirasainz]

Can you please do driver reader is literally the absolute Angel of the paddock and everyone adores her, she’s the cutest sweetest little bean that you can’t help but love, she’s a Redbull driver and Christian always fawns over her and talks about his ‘daughter’ ( it’s clear she’s the favourite ). Even the older drivers love her e.g kimi, jenson, Seb, mark. Platonic pleaseeee

Omg, that is such a sweet idea. I did the format a bit differently, hope you don't mind.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

The Redbull Princess

YN YLN was a known name in the motor sport world. Not only was she the youngest driver currently on the grid - only 19 years - but she is the first female to ever drive for RedBull. Not oy that, but also the only woman on the grid.

Despite having a different gender, the other drivers never treated her bad. In fact, one could say that YN got the whole "Princess Treatment" from the drivers and teams. Each driver has taken a special place in her life.

Exhibit A: The protective one

The paddock was buzzing with energy, reporters swarming like bees near the Red Bull garage. YN was prepping for her media rounds, already feeling the weight of the spotlight on her. As she stepped into the press pen, a group of journalists immediately approached, firing off questions.

"YN, how do you feel about the pressure of being the youngest driver? Do you think it affects your performance?"

Before she could answer, Max appeared out of nowhere, slipping between her and the reporters with a grin that was anything but friendly. "I think that's enough for now," Max said, his blue eyes narrowing. "She’s got a race to focus on. Back off."

The reporters, visibly intimidated by the reigning World Champion, quickly shuffled away. YN let out a breath of relief, nudging Max with her elbow.

"You know, I can handle them."

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd. "Yeah, but why would I let them bother you when I can have fun scaring them off?"

"You're impossible," she laughed. "But thanks."

Exhibit B: The gossip King

YN walked into the Ferrari garage, still buzzing from practice. She found Charles leaning against his car, drinking water. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Charlie! Did you see that move I pulled in turn 9?" she said, excitedly plopping down next to him.

Charles grinned, instantly slipping into gossip mode. "I did! Smooth as butter. But did you hear about Fernando's radio message? He was furious about the tire degradation. Drama!"

YN's eyes widened. "No way! Spill all the tea, Leclerc."

Charles leaned in, whispering. "Apparently, his engineer told him to manage his tires better, and Nando snapped, saying, ‘I am managing them!’" He mimicked Fernando’s accent, making YN burst into laughter.

Exhibit C: The helping hand

The young RedBull driver just exited her car, when she felt someone grabbing her Birking Bag. When she quickly turned her head, she was meat with the sight of Carlos not only caring her bag in his hands and her coat on his arm, but carring his own stuff as well.

"Carlito, what are you doing? You don’t have to carry all my stuff for me." she told him, after they started walking towards the entrance.

Carlos mate an irritated sound, before responding to her. "Nonsense, hermana. Your job is to win this weekend. So let me help you with all the other things, comprende?"

Before Carlos could get an answer, she threw her arms around him, whispering a small thank you in his ear.

Exhibit D: The personal chef

YN sat in the Red Bull hospitality area, poking at her plate of food with a discontented look. Yuki walked over, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"Not good enough for you, huh?" Yuki teased, sliding into the seat across from her.

YN scrunched up her nose. "I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t eat this."

Without missing a beat, Yuki stood up. "I’ll make you something. What do you want?"

Her eyes brightened. "Yuki, really? You don’t have to!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, you’re picky. I know that. What do you want? Miso soup? Onigiri?"

YN tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Onigiri sounds perfect."

Within minutes, Yuki was back, placing a plate of freshly made onigiri in front of her. YN took a bite and sighed contentedly. "You're the best, Yuki."

He grinned. "I know."

Exhibit E: The "annoying" prankster

YN was busy trying to make sure her helmet and gear were ready when suddenly, her entire backpack fell off the counter with a loud thud, spilling everything.

"Lando!" she yelled, spinning around, catching the British driver grinning like a mischievous child.

"What?" Lando said, feigning innocence, hands up. "It slipped."

YN gave him a look but couldn’t help the smile creeping on her face. Lando always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was through relentless pranks.

"One day, Norris, one day!" she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"I’ll be waiting," Lando chuckled, before helping her pick up her things

Exhibit F: The shoulder to cry on

"I just can't believe it. I was so close. How did I manage to bin the car into the wall on the last corner" muttered the 19 year old. Her face pressed in Oscars neck, who was busy stroking her hair. He knew better than to interrupt her during her rant. Knowing it would help her when she got everything of her chest.

After a moment, she shakily breathed out. Oscar knew that the only thing he could do now was to let her fall apart while he would catch every piece of her.

And that's what he did. While she cried her heart out, Oscar held her close to him, rocking them slowly in a soothing matter. It felt like nothing could happen to her in Oscars arms. He would protect her from the outside world as long as she needed

Sometimes actions speak louder than words

Exhabit G: The fashionista

Lewis stood beside YN, eyeing her racing suit critically before smirking. "That’s not gonna work."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He pointed at her boots. "Those shoes? No way. They don’t match the rest of the suit."

YN raised an eyebrow. "I'm not trying to walk the runway, Lewis. I’m racing."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "You can do both. Come on, let’s get you a new pair of shoes. You’ll thank me later."

And true to his words, YN received a new pair of racing shoes only a few hours later. They certainly looked better than her old pair.

Exhibit H: The mother-hen

George was hovering near the buffet in the paddock, watching YN closely as she piled food onto her plate. He narrowed his eyes as she bypassed the salad section.

"YN, you need to eat more greens. And have you had any water today?" George asked, his tone dangerously close to motherly.

YN groaned. "George, I’m fine. I had water this morning."

"That’s not enough," he replied sternly, filling a glass and handing it to her. "Drink. Now."

She pouted but took the glass. "Okay, Mom."

Exhibit I: The proud dad

During a press conference, Christian Horner stood beside YN, smiling at the reporters. "You all know my daughter here is the star of the show," he said, gesturing towards YN.

YN blushed at the comment. "Christian!"

The reporters laughed, but YN knew Christian wasn’t entirely joking. He had taken her under his wing from day one, treating her like family. And she couldn’t have been more grateful.

Exhibit J: Bwoah

In a rare quiet moment, YN had somehow convinced Kimi Räikkönen — the Iceman himself — to do a TikTok trend with her. As the camera rolled, Kimi deadpanned his way through the trend, barely moving but somehow nailing it.

"Thanks for doing this, Kimi," YN said, grinning as they finished.

Kimi shrugged. "Bwoah, don’t mention it, kid. But don’t tell the other drivers that you are my favourite"

YN laughed. "Deal."

[teddybeartoji]

“look at me, hm?”

toji's voice is barely above a whisper, his words softer than ever. with his hands circled around your middle, he stands there behind you, his chest glued against your back like a big bear. his heavy head rests on your shoulder, eyes locked onto yours in a quiet plea. you think you hear a pout in his tone. 

but you don’t give him a reaction, gaze locked onto the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

you’re upset with him and toji feels like he's dying.

all of this just because you're jealous.

because the love of his life is jealous. 

toji only spared her a glance, brushing her off and saying that his partner is waiting for him – she’s the one that went on and on, talking about the milk carton in his hands as if toji had never seen it before. but little do you know, every single word that spilled from the stranger, went in one ear and right out the other – toji couldn’t be less interested in anybody other than you. if you were to crack open his head and take a look around, it’d be all you. you and your laugh, you and your eyes, you and your hands, you and your hobbies. you and you and you. even when he was standing there with the milk carton in his hand, the only thing on his mind was how he’s going to watch you chomp down a big bowl of cereal the next morning. 

you just happened to see the moment the woman leaned closer with a charming smile on her lips and her hand on his forearm while saying her goodbye, and that was enough for the ugly thoughts to bully themselves into your head.

even though you trust toji, you know he doesn’t entertain any flirting attempts that might come his way, but sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help but feel that you might not be enough. what if he did think the woman was more beautiful, or maybe he did find the guy, who asked for his help at the gym the other day, hot? what if he found them more interesting than you, what if he feels himself stuck to you against his will? 

you heard your own words swimming around in your head and cringed at yourself, ashamed that you were letting that weird growth of jealousy torment you.

but it had already taken root. 

that evil, ugly little thing in the back of your mind. and you couldn’t shake it.

not on your own at least. 

toji had made his way over to you, taking his place by your side while squinting at the little piece of paper in his hands. but you were quiet, more so than usual, and toji isn’t stupid – he might not be the best with feelings and emotions, but he does know you. 

he could tell just by the way you avoided his gaze, the way you started to shorten your answers. the way you pulled away and into yourself – he watched you disappear into your own head right in front of his eyes and he hated it. 

but not wanting to push any wrong buttons here in public, he swallowed your silence with a heavy heart and guided you to your car with a hand on your lower back. he’s not as afraid as he used to be – he isn’t as scared to step into your space, now knowing that this is just what you need sometimes. a little push, a little nudge, to break free from the vines of envy and jealousy and doubt. he’ll burn them, he’ll cut you free. 

the car ride home was quiet. with your head rested against the window and eyes set on the passing buildings and cars, toji found himself stealing glances at you every chance he got. oh, how he hated the pout on your lips, the very same one you’re wearing now. all he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and kiss you, hold you. to make you laugh. to make you forget every single thing that has ever bothered you.

toji let you simmer for exactly ten minutes, just enough for you to change into your pyjamas and to wash up before deciding on your distraction – the dishes. he snuck up on you as silently as he could; the tips of his fingers itched to feel your skin under them, his ears tired from the silence in the apartment. the sigh that you let out as he pressed himself flush against you, sounded better than anything before. toji had already started to miss you in those twenty minutes you were away from him. 

“please… “

it’s not often you get to hear that word, especially in that tone, so it’s hard for you to ignore the stuttering of your poor, sensitive heart. his nose nudges against your cheek and you put down the knife to lean into him on instinct; with your hands on top of his, your bodies mold together like pieces of a puzzle. 

“you know you’re the only one for me…” 

the words form in the back of his mouth and roll from his tongue like a low purr. they’re coated in something sweet, in something only you get to see and feel. his arms tighten around you and you know he means it. his heart beats against your back, as nervous as it is confident. he’s sure about his statement but a part of him is still scared that you won’t have him. that you’ll leave him. 

“she talked about the milk, that’s all she did, sweetheart.” gently, he sways your bodies side to side, letting the warmth of his body engulf you as he ropes you back to him.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“do you believe me?”

it’s something you’ve been practicing in order to get rid of any remaining specks of doubt. it goes both ways; he trusts that you’ll say what’s on your mind and you do the same. 

honesty. 

raw and real.

“yes.”

toji lets out a little puff of air through his nostrils, a wave of relief settling into his body. he knows it’s not over just yet, but it’s a start.

“can i kiss you?”

toji’s mossy green eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like forever and all he can think about is how much you mean to him. his darling, his baby. he’s not one to be a sap, but hell, when it comes to you, he’s more than willing to drop to his knees and recite love poems for you if that’s what you’d like. anything and everything. 

he watches your eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up again and the little nod you give him is more than enough for him to finally press his lips to yours in a needy, hungry kiss. you melt into each other – skin against skin, tongue against tongue, it just feels right. the spark between you is still there, burning brighter than ever after all the time you’ve spent together. over hills and mountains, through lakes and rivers – nothing is too much or too little for the two of you to conquer together. he’ll be there for you and you’ll be there for him. 

“‘m all yours, sweetheart.”

his hushed words slip right between your lips and slither their way down your throat. inside, they bloom and they flourish. they overtake the rotting weeds that were growing there before and you feel it. you feel it happen. he breathes into you and you become alive again.

"i love you."

[wileys-russo]

Hi ,

Platonic ingrid / Alexia with mapi and pollito " they are idiots , but they are my idiot , still they are idiots " in park or during matches

Thank you

part of the pollito universe our idiots II a.putellas, m.león, i.engen

"oye nena, you are going to send yourself deaf!" you winced at the pinch to your knee, pulling your headphones down around your neck and sending the older catalan a scowl.

"you told me you did not like my music. this was the solution!" you defended yourself, having been banned from any kind of music control in alexia's car.

personally you felt it was an unfair judgement. it wasn't your fault that the songs you liked to listen to just sounded best at max volume, or that you'd accidentally blown alexia's speaker system trying to prove that point.

"you never listen as it is chica, i need these to work." you whined at the sharp tug on your ear, unclicking your seatbelt and practically diving out of the car away from her, headphones left on your seat.

but of course the moment the door closed and you stood up straight, stretching out with a sigh did someone else grab at you, hands gripping your wrists and forcing your arms to twist behind your head.

"buenas tardes pollito!" the familiar voice cooed in your ear, a wet kiss to your cheek with a loud mwah having you grimacing in disgust and trying to yank your arms free.

"suéltame hijo de puta!" you spat, grunting with the effort of trying to pull away but it was fruitless as she merely laughed at your attempts. "such ugly words." mapi tutted at the language you hauled her way during the struggle, whining as mapi used your hands to make you hit yourself.

"alexia, ayuda!" you called out as the older girl finally emerged from the car, head having been buried in her phone. but as she opened her mouth to no doubt order mapi to let you go, someone else stepped in first.

"maría! let her go, what did i say about picking on her?" you perked up at the norweigans warning, mapi finally letting you go with a huff, hurrying to hide behind the taller girl as you lunged for her.

"well hello." ingrid chuckled as instead you moved to tightly hug her, flipping her girlfriend the finger behind her back and grinning as mapi narrowed her eyes but ultimately couldn't do anything about it with ingrid acting as a barrier between the two of you.

"hermana!" your head whipped around and your eyes lit up as another car door slammed closed, your older sister gabriella opening her arms expectantly as you let go of ingrid and rushed over toward her.

but her face fell and eyes rolled as you dropped to your knees in front and started to coo fondly at the fluffy newfoundland by her side, arms thrown around his neck and kisses pressed against his head as your sister sighed and tapped your shoulder, holding out his leash.

"me alegro de verte imbécil!" the older girl yelled after you as you took your dogs leash and sprinted off toward the park you'd all met up at, alexia chuckling at the sight and greeting your sister with a hug.

"and you are sure you are okay with him for the weekend?" gabriella asked with a frown, alexia nodding but not without a sigh. "she has been begging for weeks for one of them to come and visit, if she had her way all four of them would be here." your captain chuckled, and it was true you'd been pestering her forever to let one of your family dogs come and stay.

you'd been on fire the last few games, scoring five times in three matches and even getting your first start of the season.

then to try and sweeten alexia up more you'd pulled back your usual reckless activities and pranks, your list set aside for the time being as you focused on proving to her that you were responsible.

it was almost scary just how quickly you'd switched up.

you were always as helpful as you could be around the house, forever helping to clean up and even offering to cook (but after last time olga and alexia would politely decline, the bitter memory of your last culinary creation still lingering in their tastebuds and nightmares).

but now even at training you were on your very best behaviour, always offering to help the staff set up and pack down, the first to get boots on the grass and the last to run them off, doing your best not to interrupt anyone or goof off during each session.

plus given that the last time one of your dogs had come for a visit it was you sneaking him in behind alexia's back when she was away for the weekend.

and that resulted in her returning to two missing couch cushions (assumed to be eaten), a suspicious stain on the rug, two smashed vases and a nasty little surprise or three in her bedroom and ensuite that you'd missed and not cleaned up.

so after two weeks of your disturbingly angel like behaviour the midfielder had caved and agreed that one of the dogs could come for a weekend sleepover, but that was all she'd bend to.

of course you'd chosen your favourite, diego. a slobbery newfoundland which when he stood on his two back legs was taller than you were and was deaf in one ear.

but seeing the way your face lit up at the sight of him and hearing your laughter echo across the park as you both raced around it, alexia knew she'd made the right decision.

merely giving your sister a wave goodbye she rolled her eyes again as she bid the others farewell and slipped back into the car, a two and a half drive back to your childhood town ahead of her you made a mental note to call her later to thank her properly.

but for now all you could focus on was diego, ingrid and alexia disappearing to get a coffee as mapi stayed in the park with you, a backpack of diegos things in her hand as you squatted down and began to rifle through it.

"oye nena! what is the command for down?" mapi yelled out, struggling as diego's two front paws sat on her shoulder and she tried not to fall over under his weight, her neck craned away from his tongue which was trying its best to lick at her face.

"diego, bah!" you turned around and yelled, diego immediately dropping into a sitting position as mapi sighed in relief and cooed at him affectionately, scratching behind his ears and grinning at the way his back foot thumped against the ground happily.

"which ear is it?" mapi asked with a frown as you grabbed out his favourite toy, pointing to your right ear and whistling sharply, wiggling the worn leather football at the dog who dropped to his stomach with his tail wagging rapidly.

"go long!" you waved for mapi to back up as she jogged to create some distance between the pair of you. "remember how?" mapi cupped her hands over her mouth as you nodded, adjusting your grip on the NFL ball you'd brought back from your trip to texas in the pre-season.

before the season started properly you'd gone home to see your family for one of your older brothers birthdays, having gotten a cowboys jersey and the ball as him for a present. only the moment you'd stepped past the front door all four dogs had rushed at you, the ball snatched from your hand and rapidly becoming their present now.

"diego. vamos!" you yelled, launching the football toward mapi who side stepped to catch it, diego just arriving in front of her before she'd tossed the ball back to you, diego sprinting between the two of you and barking happily as you threw the ball back and forth.

you were still doing that same thing when ingrid and alexia returned, coffees in hand for all four of you as well as a water bottle for diego who was rapidly running out of steam, merely trotting between the pair of you now.

spotting her girlfriend mapi called it quits, dropping the ball and racing over as you rolled your eyes and went off to retrieve it, diego padding tiredly after you as you clipped his leash back on and tucked the ball under your arm and grabbing his backpack with the other.

grabbing out the portable water bowl you thanked ingrid as she handed you the bottle, pouring some out for diego who collapsed to his stomach, eagerly lapping away as you left him to it beneath the table, well covered with the shade.

"decaf." alexia warned handing you the iced coffee as you rolled your eyes but kept your discontent to yourself.

olga was more than happy to pour you a proper coffee of a morning when alexia wasn't home, but the midfielder herself remained firm in her belief that you had more than enough energy without adding caffeine to it.

"pollito what is this?" mapi pulled a face as she tugged a heavy weighted vest out of the backpack.

"diegos anxiety vest! he gets night terrors and he is scared of thunder, it might storm this weekend." you explained with a shrug as if that was normal, missing the odd look shared between the three older girls at the picnic table.

"ven aquí pequeña, i want to try something." mapi beckoned you over, confusion in your features as she slipped the vest over your head. "amiga what-" alexia started, cut off as there was a loud thud, mapi's fist thumping against the vest and hitting you right in the stomach.

"maría!" ingrid gasped in shock, smacking the back of the defenders neck who choked on a mouthful of coffee and glared at her over her shoulder, coughing and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"qué? that did not hurt her! right?" she looked to you as you nodded in surprise, testing it again by punching yourself now and lighting up as you barely felt a thing.

"tonta! take that off, it smells." alexia sniffed the air and pulled a face, trying to pull it off you as you pushed her hands off, catching mapi's eye and suggestive grin, diegos football in her hands as she cocked an eyebrow at you.

it seemed the two of you had a brief and silent conversation across the table, alexia and ingrid clueless to your plans as you suddenly nodded and eagerly raced off after the tattooed zaragozan.

for once diego didn't follow you, just watching on tiredly from his shady recluse under the table as ingrids foot rubbed gently against his hip.

both ingrid and alexia watched on themselves, curious where this was going as you and mapi talked for a second before doing your handshake which had them both rolling their eyes, the two of you having been working on it as a goal celebration for weeks now.

once again mapi backed up to put some distance between the two of you, winding up to throw the ball as you squatted down ready to catch, the vest still sitting across your chest.

"oh no." ingrid realised first where this was going as mapi launched the ball and started to sprint toward you, the ball caught in your hands as you stood up and clearly braced yourself.

"qué son-" alexia didn't even get to finish her question before it was answered for her, mapi's body hurtling into yours and tackling you down to the ground, shoulder slamming into your stomach as there was a thump, your body hitting the grass.

alexia was up on her feet with a face like thunder, ready to march right over and pull the pair of you off one another, a lecture on the tip of her tongue as mapi rolled off of you and collapsed into a fit of laughter which you soon joined in with.

"estoy bien ale!" you yelled out, spotting alexia ready to make her way over and sending her a thumbs up and a wolfish grin, mapi hopping up and holding out a hand to help you do the same.

"they are idiots." alexia grumbled, a hint of a smile on her face but eyebrows furrowed together as she slowly sat back down with a shake of her head.

mapi's laughter again flew through the air as you'd grabbed her hand to be helped up, the older girl pulling you halfway before letting go and sending you thumping back down onto your back.

"but they are our idiots." ingrid added onto alexia's previous statement with a chuckle of her own, the two of them watching on with small smiles at you and mapi.

"puta!" you managed out between your own laughter, foot lashing out at mapi as she dodged it and tossed the football at you, collapsing beside you as it bounced off your head and you whined, launching at her as the two of you rolled around on the grass wrestling.

"sí. but still, they are idiots."

[robinsfilm]

OH, TAKE ME BACK (TO THE NIGHT WE MET)

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: the promise between the two of you never broke, not on that roof as children, not even now.

ANON ASKED: " Reader meets/is with Jay after he becomes Red Hood. After finding out that he used to be Robin, she recalls an interaction she had years ago with the Boy Wonder, unaware that they would paths again years later. " ;

WORD COUNT: 0.8k ;

NOTES: i like this one, i truly do, writing angst is a whole different experience. this is angst/comfort though, because i'm not evil (because i can't handle it). cross posted on my AO3.

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

THE NIGHT SKY OF GOTHAM HOLDS NO STARS TO COMFORT YOU. No stars to shed the soft and guiding light on you as you sit on the steep edge of the roof. Small feet dange from the brink as a heavy feeling settles in your heart, spreading like an infection, all-consuming in your body.

The tears falling from your eyes onto your cheeks go unnoticed by you, even as they drop onto your wobbly and scarred knees. They burn.

You wish the sky did not look somber and dim tonight. The cold air bites at any exposed flesh, even crawling its way into your clothes. Any semblance of comfort had been stripped from your hands; no amount of clawing and hanging on mattered. You were alone, on an abandoned roof, overlooking Gotham in all her melancholic glory.

Only the sounds of cars passing and the distant murmur of people filled your ears until a shuffle behind you caught your attention.

Turning your head, you tried to focus your gaze on the person—the kid behind you.

He seemed to be around your age, with messy hair, cheeks red, and chests rising. The red and green of his suit standing out next to the washed-out color of our surroundings. But the golden ‘R’ engraved above where his heart should be leaves no chance for you to mistake who the boy in front of you is.

The Robin.

Robin stands here with you. He opens his mouth to speak, although hesitantly, “You’re not going to jump, are you?”

You stare at him for a moment, taking every detail of him in: his jet black hair—a mess of ink on top of his head—his slightly tan skin; he has a hand out, reaching out to you; you can feel his eyes taking in your state.

“You’re not very good at this.” You mumble as you shuffle away from the edge, “I’m not going to jump, bird boy.”

He straightens up, his spine going stiff. You think you're imagining the pink hue on his cheeks.

He pouts, “It’s Robin, actually.”

He takes a single step closer to you, as if asking if it's okay. When you don't decline, he settles down next to you, his yellow cape grazing your hand.

“You should get that cleaned,” he motions to your scarred knees.

“I will.” You answer with pensiveness in your detached voice.

He considers something for a moment before moving next to you. He takes your hand in his. He feels warm, you note.

“C’mon. I’ll help you.” He speaks as he pulls you away from the edge, away from the somber and dim sky, the biting cold air.

He glances back at you. When he sees the unconvinced look in your eyes, his jaw tightens. “I swear.”

“You’re not going to fly away somewhere else, bird boy?”

“I’m staying here.” With you.

His stare doesn't leave your gaze, just as his hand doesn't waver in its hold of yours. You don't pull away; you don't push him away.

You hold onto his hand, letting him guide you instead of the stars of the dim sky.

Strange, you note; your heart doesn't feel so heavy anymore.

*****

The mellow air spreads through the shared apartment of you and Jason as it wraps you in its warm hold. The dim night sky is lit by only the moon and a single star following the crescent moving through the coal-black sky.

Jason settles his head on your chest, bringing his ear to your chest, feeling your heartbeat. It flows through his body as a solace, bringing him comfort.

When you recall the interaction with the young Robin, he could see the bittersweet memory in your wistful eyes. Your saudade voice rings out in his mind over and over again.

He remembers an icy cold night, so unlike this one in your arms. He remembers the biting air, the starless sky, how even the moon decided to abandon Gotham City that day, how it left its people alone.

How it left you on that roof.

He remembers approaching you, seeing the way you curled into yourself, the way you hid from the word that night.

He remembers taking your freezing hand in his, clutching it in his hold as a feeble attempt to warm them.

He remembers how unsure you looked and how you were already getting ready for the chance for him to let go and leave you alone on that roof. The hesitant shaking of your hand in his leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He remembers the moment of trust appearing—the moment when you let him tend to you. Two confused children on a cold Gotham night, looking for warmth wherever they found it.

Jason wraps his arms around you tighter, tangling his lips around yours as one. You return his hold, arms wrapping around his neck, burying yourself in the safety of him, wherefore the word ceases.

“I’m not leaving, not again.” He mumbles in the crook of your neck. You're thankful he can't see you right now.

The tears you shed for him, he already knows.

“You swear?”

“I swear.”

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles | DC Convention, September 22, 2024, Main Panel Summary

(FangasmSPN)

Jensen apparently filmed all night on Friday and flew straight here ??? does he sleep???? (x) JJ to her dad: I miss you so much I can't even function. @JensenAckles : I have a few more years of being the center of her universe #SPNDC (x) When asked what they would tell their 16-year old that wants a tattoo, @JensenAckles "A tattoo is a story. You should wait until you've lived enough life to have a good story." (x) Jensen: at 15 you don't have anything figured out yet so just tell her that (x) “There was a scene where dean gets upset and takes a crow bar to the car… and that hurt. That hurt Jensen. But they actually had a panel there so, just so you know, I wasn’t hitting… ✨her✨” (x) Someone asked if there’s a question that they’re like “ugh i hope they hope people don’t ask this agaINNNNN”and Jared said some of the prank stuff i could kiss him (x) Jensen did say tho that even questions they’ve been asked before they think on them over time and there’s not really an “oh no” question cuz we’re all so respectful and good about stuff and if there IS a problem they’ll be like “not answering that NEXT” (x) Jensen: My partner on this new show is 6’6. a 265 lb rugby player. I look TINY compared to him. Like a little baby boy #spndc (x) Question: "Is there anything you would like people to know about you?" @JensenAckles "I am not a good liar. Being an actor, you'd think I'd be a better liar, but I'm not. @DanneelHarris catches me whenever I try." (x) Apparently Danneel can always fucking tell when Jensen is lying lmfao she’s like “you’re AWFUL at that” (x) .@JensenAckles : I wish these communities of fans existed when we were young. I'm glad they do today. #SPNDC (x) Fan: I have anxiety and depression so i just need advice on how to handle it Jared: i seek professional help. i do! Jensen: I think you’ve already taken a huge step in just admitting it to a room of hundreds. know its a journey. It's not something that just gets fixed (x) Dream roles they’ve always wanted to play Jensen: batman. James Bond. Indiana Jones. and a Jedi. (x) Fan: *ask abt video games* Jensen: Dean would just kill dance dance revolution (x)

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi being a nervous wreck for your guys first date.

He doesn't even know how he managed to get you to say yes to his shitty proposal. It all went wrong, but, as always, you made the wrong seem right and did the unthinkable: you agreed to going on a date with him.

This date needed to go perfectly. He can't mess this opportunity up. You were going to see how he's the perfect boyfriend for you, both gentle and funny, and accept his "proposal" when he asked the awaited question: "Do you want to be my girlfriend?".

I mean, c'mon, going on a date with a girl can't be that hard, right...? Well, for Isagi it sure was. Because it wasn't just a girl. It was you. And that thought alone made him feel like he might faint on the spot.

And so, the week preceding your date with him, Yoichi is planning everything meticulously. He needed every help he could get.

And who is better to help him than his friends?

7 days before the date.

"No, no!" Isagi screamed "She wouldn't act like that! You're not helping at all, Nagi."

"I wanna sleep." Seishiro said, removing the phone that he was holding in front of his face with your picture on it "Why does it have to be with me and in my room? Can't you practice in front of a mirror or something?"

"It doesn't feel the same!" Isagi huffed, running his hands through his hair "Just one more time. Remember, I helped you hide from Barou when he chased after you for wetting the bed with your hair, and you said you owned me one. Therefore, you're repaying me and can't run away from this."

"Okay then" Nagi snored, and put the phone with your photo in front of his face again

"Try to get her personality right this time" Isagi rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper with his speech. The moment he looked at your face, he blushed hard. Boy, he was so head over heels for you it was almost ridiculous. "Hey! How are you today? Hope you're doing fine!" Okay, great start. I didn't stutter. This is going to be perfect.

"Hello Yoichi-kun. I'm fine, thank you for asking. How about you." Nagi said monotonously while reading his own paper with the phrases he was supposed to say. It was actually kinda funny how he said this without any emotion.

"I was doing well, but I'm feeling e-even better now that you're here!" Yoichi said and shot Nagi finger guns while showing a strained smile. "So, where do you wanna sit--"

"Nagi! I bought you some lemon tea!!--"

"REO! KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING." Isagi said while his cheeks burned with a red so bright you could amost see smoke coming out his ears.

"Isagi. What the actual fuck--"

6 days before the date.

"I'm surprised you even decided to help me" Yoichi said while looking at a menu

"It's out of pity" Reo, who was sitting in front of him, said "You are helpless. But I'm gonna help you make her have the best date of her life" he smirked

Doing a signal with his hands, Reo called his driver, who parked the car right in front of their table.

"Okay. Now, get into the car."

"Uh... where are we going?? I thought you told me to meet you here so we could practice how I would act."

"And that's exactly what we're gonna do. Just get into the car, don't you trust me?"

'No I don't' Isagi thought, but he didn't say anything. He stepped into the car, obtaining a smirk from Reo, who also entered the vehicle.

"See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" His smirk widened, but soon disappeared when Mikage put on a serious face "Now, pretend I'm her. Here's the situation: we just got to the place of the date and we're about to leave the car. What do you do?"

"I... open the car door, get out and close it right after."

"Wrong. You open the car door, get out, hold it for her so she can also exit and then close it. Geez, this is going to be harder than I thought." Reo sighed "Now, let's practice. Do what I just told you"

Isagi nodded. He then opened the door, got out of the car and held it open so Reo could also exit.

Just when he thought it was all going well, a bee landed on his nose. Desperate to scare the insect, he started to shake his hands in front of his nose

"Shoo! Shoo!"

"OUCH!"

"Oh shit." The same hand he was using to scare the bee away was also the hand he was previously using to hold the car door. And his hand couldn't do 2 things at the same time. So, when he released the door, it strongly hit Reo's face.

"Shit. Reo, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, but it's not because of me" Reo made an angry face while rubbing his forehead "I'm sorry for your date. Let's try again. Do it properly this time."

With a sigh, Isagi entered the car again.

5 days before the date.

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I need your help, Otoya." Yoichi said and swallowed hard, knowing that his next words would be a punch to his ego, but it needed to be done. "I'm a disaster! When I was training with Reo, I spilled coffe on him, the car door hit his face and I made him fall when I pulled the chair so he could sit on it. And I know you talk to a lot of girls, so you must know what to do."

"You came to the right place, dude." Otoya smirked and held open his shared dorm's door "Fear not, me and Tabito are going to help you get that girl."

Okay. When he said they'd "help him make you fall for him", he didn't imagine it meant watching Otoya flirting with Karasu wearing a wig for 10 minutes straight.

"Did you take notes?" Eita asked

"Yeah, I did" Isagi bashfully answered while holding up the little notebook he had in hand, which was full of notes about Otoya's advices on how to "step up his game".

"Okay, now it's your turn." The ninja said, seating down

"W-what? I didn't know I would also have to flirt with Karasu"

"It's for practice only! And you just have to pretend it's not me" Tabito answered, and then made a high pitched voice "I'm the girl you like!" He battered his eyelashes and put his hands together.

"S-sure..." Yoichi said, getting up "Okay so... uhm... how do I start?"

"Tell her a pick up line"

"Any?"

"Any."

"...do you play soccer? Cause you're a keeper." followed by finger guns.

The silence in the room was almost papable. Otoya and Karasu exchanged looks. Isagi was sweating. Karasu and Otoya locked gazes again. And then all of a sudden...

They began to laugh. Hard.

"Oh shit..." Karasu said, wiping away a tear from his eyes "This was so bad!"

"I know, right?" Otoya agreed "He did the finger guns and all that"

"W-what?! Was it that bad??"

"The worst I've ever seen. I wish i had recorded it"

"Nah, don't worry. I did, it's right here."

"KARASU, DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW."

4 day before the date

"Okay..." Chigiri said, analysing Isagi's hair "Based on the shape of your head, we could do a buzzcut. Ladies like it."

"You're sure you know how to cut people's hair right?" Isagi asked nervously

"Yeah I do. Just sit back, relax and let me do my thing"

With a sigh, Isagi sat down on a chair in his room, patting his pants with his hands

"It's just that this week has been absolute hell for me! I screw everything up everytime I try to practice for my date! The way things are going, she's going to hate it! I'm actually so scared right now you have no idea"

"I didn't remember telling you I could be your therapist" Chigiri smirked (what's with his friends always smirking at him??) "But if I coukd give my input in this, I'd say you just need to be yourself. Don't try to change. You're a nice guy, I'm sure she'll like the date"

"That... actually helped. Thank you Chigiri."

"You're welcome."

Wow. Things were going great for once. Nothing bad had happened! Maybe it meant that his luck was back, and the date was going to actually go as planeed!

"Uhm... Chigiri. There's hair in my nose"

"Just brush it off"

"I'm scared to move"

"Why? Just take it off"

"If I don't move, nothing can go wrong"

"Ugh, I'll take it off for you, you traumatized coward"

Yoichi discovered something today: his nose is very sensible. He just wishes he had discovered it in a different way.

*ATCHOO*

"Fuck."

"What? Is it over?"

"I'm done here. I did my work." Chigiri said in a hurry, packing his things quickly and then leaving. But before he stepped out the door, he shouted "I'd suggest you look at the mirror" he then smiled worriedly and shut the door

"Look in the mirror? What does he even mean...?"

When Isagi saw the hole in his hair, he let out a scream the whole neighbourhood heard.

The third day before the date was spent solving the hair issue

2 days before the date

"I don't have clothes."

"What do you mean you don't have clothes? What about all of these T-shirts on the floor?"

"None of them are good enough!" Isagi shouted

"I think you're too worried about this date" Hiori commented "Everything will go just fine, don't worry"

"Yeah! You just have to act as yourself!" Bachira added "If she accepted to go out with you, it means she already likes you, even if just a little!"

"I don't know, I think I might just cancel it. I think I'm too plain and boring for her?? I don't really know it anymore, man."

"There's NO WAY you're going to cancel it" Hiori said. With a jump, he got up from Isagi's bed, held his shoulders ans shook them while he spoke to him "Listen here tou little shit: I will NOT tolerate your endless rambling about her anymore. You finally got a date with her and want to throw it all away because of some senseless insecurity?? She accepted because she already likes you, Isagi. You don't need a whole new personality, new looks or anything. Just go as yourself. I can't take you talking about how you wish you were her boyfriend and all the things you want to do with her. Just grow a pair of balls and go to that date, goddamit!"

A gentle silence settled on the room

"He's right, you know?" Bachira broke the silence, unusually serious "You don't need to be Otoya, Reo or Karasu to make her like you. Just do what you'd normally do. I'm sure she'll like it"

"I think you guys are right" Isagi said, smiling "I'll just be myself!" He looked at the air and clenched his fist, doing a celebration and determined pose.

"Yeah!" Bachira hyped him up "That's the spirit! "

"Just drop the finger guns please" Hiori joked

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY FINGER GUNS??"

The day of the date.

He wasn't as nervous anymore. The talk with Hiori and Bachira really did help him, after all. He was actually determined.

You both were going to enjoy the date. He would make sure of it.

"Wow. You look beautiful" Isagi said, looking you up and down when he saw you at the restaurant. Turns out Reo's lesson was useless, since you both didn't share a car together.

"Thank you!" You said, giggling "You also look very handsome if I do say so myself!"

Isagi reached for the hand that was behind his back and pulled out a red rose

"For me?" You smiled, grabbed the rose and sniffled it. And oh, how he wished you'd smile only at him for the rest of his and your life. It made him feel even better knowing that he was the one who made you smile so brightly

He gently grabbed the flower from your hands and put it in your hair, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear in the process, careful to not let the thorns prickle you. He then smiled and grabbed your hands, looking you straight in the eye

"It reminded me of you, since you're both pretty"

Old habits die hard, they say. And so, even though everyone told him not to do it, he did it. The finger guns.

"I-it was cringy, wasn't it?" He said, nervous, when he saw you laughing at his (pathetic) attempt at flirting

"No it wasn't. I think it's kinda cute, actually" you linked both your arms together and smiled at him again (damn woman, did you want to kill him?) "Now let's go have the best date ever!"

You were perfect. And so, when you both entered the restaurant, there was only three things on Isagi's head, and he would make sure that all of them were going to happen.

Be yourself.

Enjoy.

Make her smile.

And so, you both went inside the restaurant, ready for fun and not knowing you'd get out with a new title that you would both proudly wear: "boyfriend and girlfriend".

~ A/N: Not proofread!! Also, I actually hate this sm omg

[ilyrafe]

𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: domestic violence, murder

word count: 1k

a/n: this is loosely based on the movie hit man (actually based on a scene lol)

taglist: @starkeyvhs

unpretentiously, rafe enters the diner and sits at a table, facing the entrance, just so he can see who comes and goes. the young waitress takes his order - a cheeseburger with fries and a soda - and he waits.

strangely, he couldn’t find any pictures of y/n, the woman who contacted him. all he knew about her was her name, really. she only said the clothes she would be wearing - a pair of jeans and a large gray sweater, but anyone could be wearing that. she didn’t inform him about her physicality, and he couldn’t find anything about her online, which intrigued him a lot more.

she isn’t his first female client, but it’s still rare for him to have women wanting his services. 

his order comes and he keeps watching the entrance of the diner. all kinds of people come and go, young and older men, children, teenagers, and even some women, but none of them approach him.

when he’s taking the last sip of his soda, he sees a young looking woman walking towards him. she looks around, clearly nervous. she sits in front of him and rafe realizes it’s her.

“i contacted you yesterday.” she says, almost whispering.

she is visibly tense, probably her first time talking to a hitman.

“how can i help you, y/n?”

she sighs, contrasting with his own posture. she looks tired, the bags under her eyes are quite dark. her hair is lifeless, quite messy, as if she didn’t really have time to brush it or didn’t care to do it. her clothes aren’t new, and he notices a tiny stain that could be blood, but he’s not sure.

before she can say anything, she reaches for her bag and takes out a dark yellow package and slides it to him.

the cash.

“i need you to kill my husband.”

he could be wrong, but rafe is pretty sure there are tiny tears forming in her eyes. they look scared, devoid of any light or hope. to be honest, this woman is just existing.

“why?”

that seems to catch her by surprise. he doesn’t like the way she’s doing everything she can to look invisible. literally no one has noticed her presence there. the waitress hasn’t even come here to take her order.

“he… he’s awful.” she admits. “i don’t know what else to do. he won’t let me leave him. he… he gets drunk and then he…” she trails off, wiping away a few tears. “anything can set him off and i’m scared for my life. the police won’t do anything…”

the friction between the sleeve and the table causes the skin on her wrist to be exposed and he sees purple marks. if her wrist is that bad, he can’t even imagine the rest of her body.

rafe takes the cash in his hands and after two seconds of thought, he gives it back to her.

“do you have children?” she shakes her head. “then take this money and don’t go back home. go away and don’t look back. start over somewhere far away from here.”

“no, he’ll find me!”

the panic in her voice pains him so much.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll take care of him, but i need you to do what i say.”

“i don’t understand…”

“i don’t want your money. just give me a picture of him and his home address.”

after a few long seconds, she nods and takes a piece of torn photo, a piece of paper, and a pen from her purse. she writes down her home address and hands it over along with the picture of her husband.

she takes back the money and put it back in her purse. it’s all her life savings. the money she had to hide from her husband, so he wouldn’t spend on alcohol and drugs. rafe puts the items in his pocket and watches her leave the diner, hoping to god she listens to him and goes away. 

(...)

in his car, rafe watches the movement on the street outside your house.

ever since he left the diner, he has been monitoring your husband’s steps, and since then, he has not seen you coming home. hopefully you really did leave this place for good. 

rafe doesn’t know what possessed him to help you, he has never worked for free, and money is perhaps the most important thing in his life, but after seeing you, and understanding that hiring a hitman may have been your last option, he just wanted to do a good deed, since his job is only to kill people in exchange for money.

it is already dawn, two in the morning to be exact. all the neighbors seem to be asleep. when he is sure that he can act, rafe gets out of the car properly dressed for the killing - gloves, mask and a gun.

upon reaching the back door of the house, rafe notices that the door is unlocked, as are the windows.

strange.

prepared for any kind of situation, he enters the house silently. it is dark, so he turns on the kitchen light, and finds himself in a simple but messy kitchen, with food scraps in the sink. there are empty bottles of whiskey and beer everywhere, trash all over the place. just ahead, in the living room, lying on the floor, there is joshua, your husband, apparently passed out.

this will be easier than expected.

before doing anything to joshua, rafe searches your bedroom and sees that the closet is open and empty. well, there are just a few men’s clothes. all of your clothes are gone. you really are gone. you did go back home, but you're gone, and that’s what really matters.

a sense of relief washes over rafe, and it’s inexplicable. it’s like he really feels like he saved a life.

thinking about faking a suicide, he searches for a gun, and luckily finds one in the bathroom. after checking for ammo, he carefully places the gun in joshua’s hand and brings it to his temple. with his finger, he pulls the trigger.

let me know your thoughts & if you want to be tagged :)))

[samandcolbyownme]

I got the itch to write dealer!Sam, so that’s what I’m doing. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of weed, flirting, kissing, rough actions, hair pulling, choking, biting, scratching, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word Count: 2.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You have a small smile to the man who helped you out of the car, “Thank you.”

He nods, “Not a problem, Miss y/l/n. Enjoy the party.”

You smile and walk up to the door, mumbling to yourself, “I definitely won’t.” You take a deep breath, sighing as you walk through the doors.

This hotel was absolutely breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, sculptures incorporated into the ceiling works, it was like you walked out of real life and entered something of the fairytale sorts.

“Champagne, Miss?”

You look up at the guy holding the tray of glasses holding bubbly, and you groan, “Yes, please. Yes.” You take the glass off of the tray and down it within seconds, “Hold on.”

You place the empty glass on the tray and the water raises his brows as you down the second glass, “Do you want the third one or should I just walk away?”

He laughs as you look at him and you smile, laughing softly, “I’ll take the third, please.”

“It’s yours.” He smiles and gives you a nod, “Enjoy your night.” He walks away and you bring the glass up to your lips, sipping it as you move to walk around.

“I thought big parties weren’t your thing?”

You turn around to your friend, Alisha, “They’re not, but you know I can’t turn down an open bar.” You joke, bringing the glass up to your lips.

“You mean, you can’t say no to Sam.” She smirks and shakes her head, “I know you, y/n. You can’t lie to me.”

“Okay.” You roll your eyes, “You got me on that one, but we just friends, you know. He deals me weed and we keep it at that. Easy peasy, lemon squeezey.”

“You’d let him squeeze your lemon if he asked.” She laughs into her glass and you push her, “Oh my god, shut your mouth.”

You take a sip of your drink, “But yes.”

You both laugh and you look around, “Speaking of. I gotta find him. I need to place an order.”

“You’re out already? Didn’t you just see him two days ago?” She raises her brows and you shake your head, “No, no. I want..” you move in, “I want to see if he has anything right now. I’m anxious as fuck being around all of these rich people.”

“Y/n.” She pauses, “You’re a part of these rich people.”

“What? Just because I’m good friends with the son of the people who own this place?”

She nods, “Yeah. Kinda.”

You shake your head, perking up when you see Sam making his way down the steps, “Oh. There he is.” You chug your drink and hand it to Alisha, “Take care of this for me?”

She scoffs at your empty glass in her hand, but takes it anyway, “Just tell him you love him already.”

“Not gonna happen.” You glance back at her as you walk away and smirk, turning to make your way through the crowd.

Sam looks around, doing a double take when he sees you. He smiles and lifts his hand to wave, looking back at the man he’s talking to, “Hey, I’ll find you later.”

You smirk, tilting your head as he walks up to you, “I thought you weren’t coming?”

You shrug, “Changed my mind, I guess.”

He smiles, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, I’ve already had three.” You laugh and he raises his brows, “Already? Didn’t you just get here?”

You laugh, “You know crowded places like this make me anxious.” You look around and back at him as he tilts his head, “Uh huh.”

You step closer, “You um, wanna disappear for a little bit?”

“Y/n y/l/n. Are you trying to avoid this party?” Sam fights back a smirk and you sigh, groaning as you tilt your head back, “Sam.”

“Ask nicely and maybe I’ll consider it.” He smirks and you fight back a smile, “I did ask nicely.”

“Did you?” He squints and tilts his head and you laugh, “Sam. Please.”

“Oh beggin’ me now, huh?” He leans in, “I kinda like that.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“Do you?” You ask, rolling with the punches, “Cause, I can do a lot more if you help me out.” You look up at him, tilting your head as you bat your lashes.

“If I give this to you, what do I get in return, hmm?”

You could tell he was joking, but you shake your head, letting out a sigh as you speak nothing but the truth, “Maybe you’ll get the confession of being so in love with you that it hurts, or you’ll get me on my knees, your pick.”

His brows flick up and he takes a shaky breath, “I was thinking more along the lines of you won’t leave this party early but goddamn, y/n.” He wraps his arm around your waist, “I’m good with getting both of those options.” He nods, “C’mon.”

You bite your lip as you walk with him, your hand gripping his jacket as he leads you towards the elevator.

“Sam.” A voice calls out, “Where are you going?”

He turns, you still attached to his hips, “Upstairs.”

The man glances at you and he sighs, “You have the toast to make here soon.”

Sam looks at the elevator as the doors open, “Just stall. I’ll be back soon.” He nudges you towards the elevator and walks in behind you.

The doors aren’t even closed yet and your leg is already brought up next to his hip, his hand holding your thigh as his lips attack yours, “So..” he says in between kisses, “You love me, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.” You smile, tilting your head back as he kisses down your neck, “And I promise, it’s not just because you’re my dealer.”

“Oh good.” Sam leans back, brushing hair from your face, “I was hoping it was my charming personality that caught your attention.”

You laugh, “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons.” You pull him back in, moaning lowly as he bites down on your lower lip.

The doors open and he pulls you forward as he walks backwards off of the elevator. He spins, your hand in his as he leads you down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you glance over at him.

He looks over at you as he pulls a keycard from his pants pocket, “My penthouse suite.” He smirks, “That a problem?”

You shake your head as he pushes the door open, “Nothing about any of this is a problem.”

You walk in and Sam is right behind you, his hand grabbing yours as he pushes the door closed with the other, “Where are you rushing off to? Thought you wanted something first?”

“Rearranging things is never a problem.” You pull him towards you, your hands sliding up to push his jacket off of his shoulders as he leans in to kiss you.

He pushes his jacket off before his hands find your hips, squeezing as he walks you back into the wall. His hand slides down, pulling the slit of your dress up further, “God, you are so beautiful.”

You smile against his lips, “I came here tonight just for you.”

“I figured.” He chuckles and steps back, “Come on.” He leads you into his room and you raise your brows, “Wow. All of this and just you?”

He wraps his arms around you and sighs, “Yeah, well that’s what happens when the person you like doesn’t say anything to you until now.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk, “My apologies Mr. Golbach.”

“Mhm.” He smiles and reaches up with one hand to cup your cheek before planting a kiss on your lips, “How about you get that dress off now.”

You feel the zipper on the back slide down, revealing your back and you gasp quietly before it drops down to the floor, pooling at your feet.

He walks you back to the bed, his lips trailing up and down your neck before your legs hit the edge, causing you to sit down.

He drops down to his knees, reaching up to pull your panties down your legs. He tosses them down before pushing your knees apart. You lean back onto your elbows, watching as he lifts your one leg over his shoulder.

He dips his head down, his tongue trailing up your slit and you gasp out, your body shifting as you move your arm to lay a hand on his head, “S-Sam!”

He groans against you as his tongue pushes in.

“F-fuck, fuck.” Your head tilts back, moans leaving your lips as Sam move his tongue to your clit. You watch down at him, his eyes on you as your face scrunches with pleasure, “Sam.. Sam..” you pant, “P-please.”

He pulls away, undoing his shirt as quickly as he can before undoing his belt and dropping his dress pants.

You bite your lip as your eyes fixate on the cock online in his boxers, the walls of your pussy clenching around nothing.

You continue to watch as his boxers leave his body and he starts to crawl up the bed as you move up, lying back as his body hovers over yours.

Your hands slide up his arms, legs spreading further apart as you feel the tip of his cock bump against your folds.

He pushes his hips forward, groaning lowly as his cock enters inside.

You tilt your head back more, the nails on your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders as you let out loud moan after moan.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Sam moans lowly into your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin, “So fucking good.”

Your arms tighten around his neck as you tilt your head up to smash your lips against his.

He swallows your moans with ease, groaning as his thrusts pick up, “Feel good, baby?”

“Yes!” You moan loudly, gasping as you squeeze his cock, “Fuck, yes, yes. So good!”

He slides his hand up, laying it around your throat as he moans into your ear, “takin’ me so well, sweetheart.”

He leans up, hand still on your throat, “Fuck.” He groans as he looks down, watching his cock slip in and out of you, “So fucking hot.”

His eyes move back to your face, head tilting as he watches your eyes roll back with the harder he squeezes.

He bites down onto his lip, tilting his head back before letting go. His lips on hours muffled his groan and you wrap your legs tight around his waist, whining out, “So.. fuuuck, I’m right there, baby.”

Sam sucks a hickey onto your neck, groaning against you as he feels your walls spasm around him. Your limbs holding him tight as your back lifts up off the bed and your moans glide through the room.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, good girl.”

Your breath hitches and your head snaps back to look at him. He smirks, “Ya like that or something?”

“Coming from you?” You smirk, gasping as his thrusts deeper, “Y-Yes.. a lot.”

He bites down on his lip, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I can give you a lot more if you let me.” He kisses up your jaw and to your lips, swallowing your moans as his thrusts resume.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning out as his grip on your outer thigh grows tighter, “Fuck, fuck, don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

“Goddamn.” Sam groans as he buries his face into your neck, moaning as his cock twitches inside of you. His thrusts slow down, slowly pushing his cum deeper into you.

He presses a few kisses to your neck, moving to your lips before rolling off of you, “So, how about that J now?”

You roll over, “Oh fuck, I forgot all about that.”

“That’s what you wanted first, wasn’t it?” Sam chuckles as he presses a kiss to your forward before getting up.

“I mean, it was, but like I said, I’m not worried about rearranging.” You smirk and sit up, moving to grab your panties and slip them on.

You walk over and watch as he brings the joint to his lips, “Here.” He breathes out, “I’m gonna get redressed.”

You groan before taking a drag, turning to watch him grab his clothes. You exhale the smoke, “We still have to do that?”

He laughs, nodding his head as he slips on his boxers and pants, “Yes, babe. We do. Well, I do. If you want to hang out-“

“No.” You shake your head, “I’m good to go.” You take another hit and smile as you walk over to him. You blow out the smoke, “As long as I’m with you down there, I’ll be good.”

“You can be wherever with me.” He smiles as he takes the joint from your fingers. You smile and watch as he takes a hit before giving it back, “You know..” he blows out the smoke, “You’ll have to pay for this later.”

You bite your lip, “Yeah?” You tilt your head, taking a drag, “What do you want?” You hold it for a few more seconds and exhale as he chuckles, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

He flicks his brows up and pecks your cheek, “Get dressed.”

You hand him back the joint and walk over to grab your dress, “You’ll be paying for this later.” You tease as you slip your dress up your body.

Sam walks over, “Yeah, what do you want?”

You smirk, glancing over your shoulder, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Wow okay, idk how I feel about this, I like the ending but idkkkkk let me know. I love you all so much for reading my stuff. You mean the world to me! I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can’t seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: don't act like you don't want a meanie

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

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The stump of the cone drips down your fingertips as the car jolts to a stop. You lurch against your seatbelt and hold up your hand and cup the other beneath, trying to keep the melting mess concentrated. Chris cranks the shifter as he idles in front of your mother’s house. 

“Hey, told ya not to get that all over,” he sneers. 

“Sorry, I...” you utter. “I’ll get out.” 

You balance the cone with one hand you do your best not to smear the mess as you unbuckle the seat belt. He huffs as he turns off the engine and his own belt recoils sharply. You glance over as he gets out and slams the door. He stomps around the car and wrenches open your side. 

“Out, now,” he barks. 

You obey and climb out, stepping up on the curb to examine the front of your shirt. He snaps the door shut and snarls again. 

“Keep pushing your chest out like that, someone might just take it as an invitation,” he grits. 

You wince and look up at him, hunching your shoulders. He makes everything you do a crime. As if you’re intentionally trying to offend him. 

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you mutter. “I’ll just go--” 

“I’m comin’ with ya. Mom’s waitin’,” he insists. “Sure, she’s real worried about you. Girl your age can get up to all sortsa trouble, can’t she?” 

He points you up the slanted walk and you glare ahead. Your eyes hurt as they long to roll. He walks beside you, crowding you on the thin blocks of pavement. As you get to the steps, he reaches over and taps your ass. 

“Go on, get up,” he orders you. 

You squeak and hurry up the steps. You just want to get away from him. He probably wants the same thing with the way he speaks to you. 

You wrench the door back with your free hand and angle inside. He catches the door behind you, brushing close as he follows you inside. You feel a tickle on your lower back and hurry up. 

“Gail,” Chris calls past you. 

There’s no answer. You don’t worry about it. Most of the time, your mom isn’t home when you get in. It never bothers you as you like having the house to yourself. 

You go into the kitchen and toss what’s left of your cone. You rinse your hands and ignore the man as he trudges around your house. Your mother’s squeaky hinge whines and he comes back out with a harrumph. 

You dry off and go back into the front room. He’s not far behind as he flops onto the couch with a growl. You peek over as he pulls out his phone and taps on it with his thumb. He jams the screen so hard you expect it to crack. 

“See where you get it from, huh,” he scoffs. “Damn woman.” 

You quickly flit away before you can hear any more of his gripes. He just seems the type to look for anything to be mad about. You might be a cynic, but you’re not an asshole about it. 

You change out of your uniform and toss it into the basket by the door. You’re annoyed. If he had driven a bit slower, you could have worn it at least one more time. 

You shimmy out of your pants and pull on some linen shorts and find a loose tee patterned with sunflowers. You stretch out on your bed and put on the next episode of your serial addiction. As you settle in, you hear him moving around in the kitchen. 

From what you can guess, your mom isn’t even there. She tends to do that. Just wander in and out whenever it suits you. If you were less of an introvert, you might have actually gotten in trouble as a teen with so little parental supervision. Come to think of it, she seems to have lived your teenage rebellion for you. 

A pounding on the door shakes you from your Netflix-induced trance. You sit up and sigh as you go to the door. It’s bad enough he’s getting in the way of your late night snacking but not he’s interrupting your binge. 

You crack the door open an inch and look out, “she’s probably down at Jim’s,” you say. 

“I didn’t ask that,” he brings his hand up to grim the door frame. “Did I?” 

“No,” you frown. 

“'No, sir,'” he wags his index at you. “You should try a smile. Be a lot prettier if ya did.” 

You blink. The only response you have will only piss him off. You clamp your lips tight and shrug instead. 

“There’s shit all in the cupboards.” 

You squint and shake your head, “okay?” 

“I mean, you can figure it out, can’t you? Man’s gotta eat.” 

You tilt your head in confusion, “what?” 

“Don’t tell me ya can’t cook neither. What kinda man’s gonna want a woman can’t do nothing?” He snorts. 

“I-- I don’t want to,” you blurt out. “Cook for yourself.” 

You push the door but he slaps his hand against it and forces it inward, “what did you just say, girl?” 

“I... you’re here for my mom. Go down to Jim’s and tell her to cook--” 

“You’re right. I’m here ‘cause your mommy’s a slut. Any other man stick around, huh? Pay for her bills? Her food? Don’t sound like men to me, and you,” he grabs your chin and you whimper, “don’t speak like much of a lady.” 

“Let go of me,” you smack his wrist, “ow.” 

“See, I knew your mama isn’t shit. The way she acts, shoulda figured you’d be the same.” He yanks you into the hall, “don’t worry, I’ll teach ya manners, girl.” 

“Ah, you’re hurting me--” 

“What do you think your husband’s gonna do when you get mouthy, huh? I’m saving you a lot of hard lessons,” he shoves you past him and you hit the wall with your shoulder. He snaps his knuckles against your ass. “I saw a box of macaroni, think you can boil some water or is that too much for that empty head of yours?” 

“What is your problem?” You turn and lean against the door. “I didn’t do anything and... and...” your words fizzle out as you see the way his icy eyes sear. You gulp. “Why are you so mean?” 

“Mean?” He laughs, “keep talking and I’ll put you over my knee. Now take your ass to the kitchen and make some dinner. I know you ain’t some child eating ice cream for supper, hm? Can’t be walking around like that.” 

He reaches for you and tugs the hem of your tee, letting it go so the fabric springs back up and you feel air flow along the underside of your tits. You quickly cross your arms and try to dissolve into the wall. You stare at him, annoyed but frightened. It occurs to you that he’s a lot stronger than you. 

“Well, you gonna walk around dressed like a woman, may as well be one,” he points down the hall. “You won’t like me when I’m real hungry.” 

You peel yourself off the wall and cower as you pass him. You feel his gaze on you, as oppressive as his presence. You bite down on your lip, as much to keep your thoughts inside as to keep from screaming. You should’ve known that one day your mother would bring home the wrong sort. Well, she always does but they can’t be bothered to stick around. 

You enter the kitchen and go to the cupboard. You search around for the sole box of mac and cheese. That’s your insurance policy. Your mother rarely grocery shops. She only ever goes to the bar or the liquor store. She drinks, she doesn’t eat. 

You grab a pot and fill it with water. As you light the burner, you glance over your shoulder. Chris stands in the doorway, watching, like a warden in a jail. You add salt to the water. You step back and wait for it to boil. The silence scrapes your ears. 

You sway listlessly and another growl rolls up his throat. He clicks his tongue. “Must get good tips down at the ice cream joint, huh? Wearing your cutoffs like you're at the beach.” 

You turn and frown, “...what?” 

“Nah, nah,” he shifts to stand inside the door, leaning his back on the wall, “not ‘what’. You say, ‘sorry, sir, my sweet little head’s empty and I don’t understand. Please explain to me what you mean.’ 

Your lips part and you stare at him. He snickers. 

“The way you look at me, I know you don’t got much going on in there, do ya, girl? So let’s think. You go down to the parlour in those jean shirts, wagging your ass as the boys, and they toss you a couple dollars extra. Hell, I bet those pudgy-bellied dads with all their regret and whiny brats like ya too.” He sniffs and his eyes pinpoint, “keep that up, you’ll find out how much you could make on a pole, flirting with all those greasy dicks down at Bunnies.” 

You recoil at the mention of the strip club. The very thought makes your skin crawl. And your shorts aren’t that short. Your boss said they’re just fine and it’s so hot out in the summer. 

“Shouldn’t flaunt it if you’re not selling it,” he says. 

You stare at the floor and drop your arms, tugging the hem of your shorts to make sure they aren’t bunched. “Sir, I’m not... flaunting it.” 

“Coulda fooled me.” He exhales loudly. “You wanna end up like your ma?” 

No, you don’t want to end up with a man like him. You keep that thought to yourself. You shake your head and take the box of the macaroni. You tear off the top as the water starts to boil. 

“So maybe you should take some advice from someone older and wiser. Do you know what your mama’s problem is?” He asks. 

You shake your head again. You dump the noodles into the water. You go to the drawer and open it to grab a wooden spatula. As you do, he shuts it on your fingers. You yelp as he keeps your hand trapped. You look up at him as he stands close. 

“She can’t hang onto a man. She’s too easy. No guy’s gonna take care of a fucking mess like her. And what good is she without a man lookin’ after her? Living in this hellhole with some deadbeat daughter--” 

“That’s...” you whimper and squirm as you try to free your fingers. “Ow, please--” 

“It is true,” he insists against your unspoken protest. “Whatcha think you’ll be doin’ in another few years? You’re gonna age out and those tips are gonna dry up like sand.” He taunts as he leans in, “and you’re only happiness will be at the bottom of a glass--” 

“Stop. Please,” you beg as the drawer crushes your knuckles. You can’t bear it anymore. You put your hand on his hard stomach and push. “Ow! It hurts--” 

He lets up on the drawer but only to grab your arm. He twists your wrist around and you bend with the angle of your arm. He has you facing the tile as he hyperextends your elbow. You whimper and wiggle your throbbing fingers. 

“See, a woman don’t just need a man to take care of her,” he puts his hand on your ass and brushes up your shorts. “He needs to discipline her.” He pulls his hand away and the drawer rolls open. “And I know your mama didn't do none of that.” 

He rests the spatula against your ass and you twitch, “sir, please, I wasn’t--” 

“Either you shut up and take it like a good girl or each noise means the next one’s harder,” he swings his arm back then forward. The wood strikes your ass in a radiating crack. Your legs tremble and you yowl. “Now what did I say?" 

He spanks you again with the spatula, this time on the other cheek. You grunt behind your teeth and reach back with your other arm. He raps your knuckles with the wood and you recoil. You bend your arm to your chest and he swats you again. Your ass burns from his cruel force. 

He does it again, and again, and again. You try not to make a sound but the whimpers fall out of you. Your arm strains from the angle and his unyielding grip, your ass pulsing in agony. The spatula thwaps down over and over until your eyes are streaming and all you can muster are hollow gasps. 

He lets you go and you crumple to the floor, holding yourself on your hands and knees. He whips the spatula down to it hits the tile and bounces. You wipe your face and look up at him. The air smells like fire. He sighs as his eyes drift to the stove, the water boiling over. 

“Fuck damnit, girl,” he tuts, “figure it the fuck out.” 

He shakes his head and marches out of the kitchen. You stare after him, breathless and battered. You can’t believe he just did that.  

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

22: All Things End

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: the last scene...

a/n: HIIIIIIII NEW CHAPTER!!!!!!! I have to say that this one was so emotive to write because I went through the same :)

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The crowd's roar watching Lando getting out of the car echoed in the distance, but I barely heard it. The weight of the result sat heavy on my chest as I walked through the pit lane after I weighed myself, helmet in hand. Fourth. So close to a podium, but close meant nothing in this sport. I’d given everything, fought until the last lap, but it wasn’t enough. It never seemed to be enough. Half a second away is not enough.

I knew they were all watching me, the engineers, the mechanics, the team principal.. They didn’t need to say anything. I could feel their disappointment as much as my own. But more than that, I could feel their sympathy, which somehow felt  even worse.

I shook my head, trying to clear it as I unzipped my suit. I could feel the sweat clinging to my skin, the heat still radiating from my body. The car had been a beast out there, so close to perfection but betraying me when it mattered most. I glanced down at the Ferrari emblem on my chest, my fingers brushing over it. We should’ve had it today. It slipped away, and My jaw tightened, and I could feel my grip on the helmet hardening. A dull heat settled in my chest, like embers smoldering, waiting to ignite. 

“Charles, you did your best” someone said, an engineer, I think. I nodded, forcing a small smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. I couldn’t even fake it right now.

My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Dafne. And there she was, walking toward me. She looked different now, not just because of the obvious, with her round belly that made my heart swell every time I saw it, but because she wasn’t the one in the suit, and wasn't stepping out of the car. She was on the other side of the barrier now, watching instead of driving. 

I still saw it sometimes, the longuing  in her eyes when she watched the cars line up on the grid. She never said it, but I knew it weighed on her, the thrill of racing just out of reach now. But seeing her here, waiting for me, with our son growing inside her, I felt a different kind of pull. Something deeper. She had sacrificed so much, and I hadn’t even brought home a win for her today.

When she reached me, she didn’t say a word, just wrapped her arms around me. I closed my eyes and rested my chin on her head, feeling the warmth of her body, the rhythm of her breathing. For a second, it was just us. No team, no podium, no race. Just Dafne and me. 

“I’m sorry” I muttered into her hair. 

I hated that I’d let her down.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Charles. You drove brilliantly.” she smiled, looking into my eyes.

Her voice was soft, full of that reassurance that I’d come to depend on. But I couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at me. I wanted to be more than just brilliant. I wanted to win. For her, for our baby, for the team, for myself.

I sighed, feeling my frustration boiling under the surface. My hand instinctively rested on her belly, where our baby kicked gently. That always helped, always reminded me of the bigger picture, but today, the sting of losing was hard to push away.

“For you and the baby” I said, my voice barely a whisper. I hated how it sounded, like an apology for something I couldn’t control.

 “We’re both so proud of you. There’ll be other races. You’ll get your win” her fingers caressed my cheek, soft but firm, and she smiled up at me, her eyes full of warmth.

I wanted to believe her, I really did. I nodded, but the smile didn’t feel right, as if it cracked on my lips. My stomach churned, twisting in ways no one could see. I’d been saying that to myself for years now. There’ll be other races. And there always were. But somehow, something always went wrong. Strategy. Tires. An unlucky safety car. And now, with the championship in mind, a fourth-place finish felt like a punch to the gut.

But Dafne…She never stopped believing. Even when I was down, when I couldn’t see the way forward, she did. She always had, even before we were together, back when we were just competitors and we hated the other, fighting for every tenth on the track.

I kissed her gently, just on the corner of her mouth, needing that small connection, rubbing soft circles over her belly.

 “I hope so” I said, but it sounded fake to my own ears.

The paddock noise began to filter back in, the debrief looming ahead. I’d have to face the team, go through every lap, every corner, every tire strategy. It was the part I hated most after a tough race: the arguments, the what-ifs, the “if only we had…” moments that I knew would haunt me for the next few days.

I turned to walk toward the garage again, Dafne’s hand still in mine. I could feel the sweat starting to dry on my skin, the exhaustion creeping in, but there was no time to process it yet. The media would want their interviews, the engineers would want to go over the data, and I’d have to relive every second of the race.

But Dafne tugged on my hand, pulling me to a stop just before we reached the engineers waiting for me. I turned to look at her, and there was something in her eyes, something different. A fierceness, maybe. Determination.

“Charles” she said, her voice firm but gentle, smiling weakly at me. “You have to stop beating yourself up for things you can’t control.”

I blinked, taken aback by her words. It was like she had read my mind, peeled back the layers of frustration that were suffocating me.

“You drove your heart out today” she continued, her hand resting on my chest now, feeling the rapid beat of my heart. “And it’s okay to be disappointed. But you don’t have to carry it alone.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. I didn’t know what to say. She knew me so well, better than anyone. She knew how hard I was on myself, how I replayed every mistake, every missed opportunity over and over again in my head.

“I just… I wanted to win for you” I finally admitted, my voice cracking just a little, making me smile weakly while keeping her hand on my chest.

“For me?” She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Charles, I don’t need you to win for me. I need you to keep being the man you are, the one who never stops fighting, no matter what. That’s what matters.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, a wave of emotion rolling through me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, pressing my forehead to hers. The sounds of the paddock faded once more, the pressure lifting just slightly.

“I love you” I whispered, the words coming easier now, settling deep in my chest.

“I love you too” she whispered back, her breath warm against my skin. 

For a moment, we just stood there, holding each other as if the rest of the world had fallen away. The weight of the race, the disappointment, the frustration, it all seemed to fade away when I was with her.

But I couldn’t hide from the rest of the world forever. As much as I wanted to stay in that quiet moment with her, I knew I had to face the team.

“I have to go” I said quietly, nodding toward the garage after taking a deep breath.

“I know. I’ll wait around, I want to talk with Susie” she gave me a small smile, her fingers tightening around mine before letting go.

Those words meant everything. Knowing she’d be there waiting, that I wasn’t facing all of this alone. It gave me the strength to turn and walk toward the team of engineers and media waiting for me, the usual post-race chaos already waiting for me. 

I moved my shoulders in circles, pushing the disappointment aside as much as I could, ready to face whatever came next.

The debrief was a blur of numbers, data, and what-ifs, just how I predicted. The strategy team was already analyzing every moment, trying to figure out where we had gone wrong. 

The logical part of my brain understood everything they were saying, but the emotional part was still screaming that I should have found a way to make it work, no matter what.

I tried to stay focused, answering questions the interviewers made after the debrief session, offering my perspective, but my mind kept drifting back to Dafne. To her words.

After what felt like hours, the interviews finally came to an end. The engineers packed up their laptops, the garage started to empty, and the noise of the paddock began to quiet down. 

I let out a long breath, running a hand through my sweaty hair. My body felt drained, my muscles aching from the tension of the race. All I wanted now was to get out of here, to leave the track behind for the night.

I walked through the door of the garage that led to the paddock, immediately finding Dafne sitting in one of the tables outside the Ferrari hospitality with her laptop in front of her and a hand rubbing her belly. When she saw me, her face lit up with that smile that made everything else seem like background noise.

I walked over to her, my pace slowing as I got closer. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to see her until this moment. She stood up when I reached her, and without thinking, I pulled her into my arms again, holding her tight.

“You okay?” she whispered against my ear.

“I will be” I whispered back, nodding against her neck.

“Let's get out of here” she smiled, holding my hand.

Waking up next to her always felt like a dream. Looking back in time, I can't believe that now it's normal for us to be in the same bed.

Six months ago I woke up next to her, but the aftermath of it was being shouted at by her and the heel of her shoe hitting the back of my head. But now, that moment was left in the past, and now Dafne is my girlfriend, the mother of my son.

I shifted closer, the warmth of her body radiating through the sheets. My hand slid over her belly, feeling the gentle flutter of kicks beneath her skin.

“Are you awake, Dorian?” I chuckled softly, closing my eyes.

“He's been awake for hours” Dafne groaned, placing her hand on top of mine, making me chuckle.

“Really?” I sighed, moving close to her belly and kissing it softly. “You should let your mom sleep, little one”

She chuckled, moving her hand to my hair and brushing it with her fingers. I looked up at her, pressing kisses on her belly and smiling.

“I already accept that this last trimester I will barely sleep” she sighed. “There are many things we have to do…”

 didn’t need to say anything; I just held her, feeling Dorian’s tiny kicks against my palm, reminding me that everything was about to change.

She sighed and let me place my arm around her, pressing my chest against her back and my chin on her shoulder. This was like a ritual for us, holding each other before the day starts.

“I talked with Susie” she smiled. “We will have a meeting in a few weeks”

“That's amazing, love” I smiled, kissing her neck. 

She smiled and played with the fingers of my hand, taking a deep breath.

“And… Well… The new house subject” she sighed. 

“You want to talk about it?” I whisper. 

“I think we have to talk about it, yeah” she sighed. “We can't wait until the last minute, Charles. At least… We should buy one and have everything ready for when Dorian comes… Right?”

I took a deep breath and sighed. I could see it in her eyes, she was clinging to every last moment with Athena, as if holding on could delay the inevitable. A part of me wished we could move forward, find the house  and prepare for Dorian’s arrival. But how could I ask her to let go, when I wasn’t sure I could do the same if it were me? The veterinarian that sent us the results of the study said that it would happen anytime, because Athena was older than what Dafne thought.

“Okay” I whisper. “Where should we look, hm?”

“Near Maranello?” she whispered, looking back at me. “Somewhere that is close to your job, so you can be close home too”

“Yeah, I was going to say that too… I don't want to be away from home all the time, only when it is inevitable because of the races” I sighed. “But… What if in the future I leave Ferrari?”

“Would you?” She said surprised, making me chuckle and nod.

“I want to win a championship, Dafne” I whisper. “And if I can't do it with Ferrari, then I have to find a better team”

Somehow, saying those words didn't hurt. It felt right. Now this is the future, Dafne and Dorian are my future. I don't have to be loyal to Ferrari anymore, only to myself and my family.

“I will support you with any color you wear” she said. “No matter the team. I'll always wear number sixteen”

“God, I don't know what I did to deserve you” I smiled softly, kissing her shoulder multiple times. “I don't know what I did to deserve your forgiveness and then have your love… Really…”

“Easy, you knocked me up” she joked, making me laugh. “No, Charles… I… We always loved each other , that's all we need to know. And we were too childish to confront the reality”

“Yeah” I nodded. 

She took a deep breath and turned around, slowly as lately, and I helped her. Dafne looked at me with her sleepy smile, placing her hand on my chest. I smiled looking down at her hand, watching the ring she never took off.

“Athena won't make it, you know?” she whispered, breaking the silence. “Last night Erica sent me a text”

“What?” I frowned, worried. “Dafne, why didn't you tell me…”

“I didn't want to worry you, Charles” she sighed. “And somehow, I accepted it already”

“What is happening with her?” I said, holding her hand.

“Erica said Athena stopped eating” she sighed. “And I'm sure she's searching for places to hide…”

“Oh, love” I sighed, hugging her tightly. “Do you want to go back home? And be with her?”

“I… Yeah” she nodded. “I wouldn't forgive myself if I'm not there for her”

“Okay” I sighed, kissing her forehead. “Then we should get ready, okay? Go take a shower while I reserve the jet and pack what's left on our suitcases”

“Thank you, Charlie” she whispered, sitting on the bed and getting out of it and going to the bathroom.

I sighed, biting my lip and grabbing my phone, immediately texting Erica.

Charles: Any news about Athena?

Erica: She told you?

Erica: She's… well, not eating. 

Erica: I'm trying to give her wet food with a spoon, but she refuses to eat

Charles: Fuck… We are going to leave on a few hours 

Erica: Okay, I'll text Soleil so she can go pick you two up 

Charles: Thank you, Eri

Charles: But… What's should I do? For her?

Erica: Just be there for her, please. She might be smiling, but I'm sure she will be crying if you let her be alone for some seconds 

“Fuck” I sighed, leaving the phone on the bed and looking at the bathroom door.

I got up and walked to the door, opening it slightly. My heart broke immediately when I saw her sitting on the toilet, with her phone in her hands while she looked at pictures in her phone.

“Oh, baby” I sighed, opening the door and walking in, kneeling in front of her.

“I’ll miss her,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “She’ll never meet Dorian, Charles.”

“I know, Dafne” I sighed. “I feel bad about it too, but… There's nothing we can do. We tried everything, right? The medicines are not working anymore and we can't keep sending her to the veterinarian, it's too expensive and she's suffering a lot of stress because of it. And I'm not complaining about the money, we have a lot of it, but…”

“But we are spending a lot, I know” she sighed, resting her head against mine. “I just… I wanted to try to make her life a little longer…”

“And we tried, but she's tired, Dafne” I whisper. 

She nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around me, hiding her face on my neck. I smiled weakly, rubbing her back with my hand, trying to calm her.

“We’ll be there,” I whispered. “For Athena. For everything. Together.”

When we landed that day, Soleil came to pick us up at the airport, but she wasn't smiling. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was yawning all the time.

I knew there was something wrong, and the moment Dafne squeezed my hand tight, I understood what was happening.

As soon as the car rolled to a stop inside the gates, Dafne was already halfway out, her movements rushed and unsteady. She barely waited for the car to be turned off completely before running toward the house, with her breath catching in the air. I followed her close, feeling my heartbeat drumming in my ears. Erica was in the living room, holding a cup of coffee between her hands, warming her palms.

“Where?” Dafne mumbled. 

“This morning she went to the garden” Soleil said behind us. 

I watched as Dafne took a deep, shaky breath, the hand that held her trembling as she placed it on the couch and the other one holding her belly . Her usual strength seemed to come down as she realized what’s coming next. I wanted to comfort her, to follow, but I knew she needed this moment alone, her last moments with Athena.

“How are you?” I asked Erica, sitting next to her.

“Tired… Sad” she sighed. “Athena is so important for Dafne, I don't even want to know how she's feeling right now”

“She's sad too” I sighed. “She wanted her to meet Dorian, that's the only thing she wanted”

“I know” Erica sighed. 

“I think no one was ready for this” I smiled weakly. “I wanted Athena to meet Dorian too. I wanted my son to grow up with her and wanted to take many pictures of them cuddling. I never had a cat while growing up, and I never thought I ever wanted one… But when I met Athena, I loved her immediately”

“Everyone goes through that” Soleil sighed. “I'm glad Dafne brought her home, that she came home with a cat”

“Yeah…” I nodded.

I took a deep breath, looking at the backyard door and sighed, placing my hands on my knees to impulse myself to get up. I walked out towards the garden, finding Dafne sitting on the grass, looking at the flowers that grew there.

“Dafne” I said softly, standing behind her.

“She's…” she mumbled. “Sit next to me, please…”

I sighed, blinking hard to stop the tears from falling. Dafne was holding her cat in her lap, with the crochet jacket she was wearing wrapped around the small weak body of her cat.

“She's still breathing…” she sighed, leaning on me when I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

“She was waiting for you” I whisper, pressing my lips on her temple. 

“Yeah…”

We sat in silence, the garden air still and heavy, as Athena’s tiny body rose and fell slower with each breath. The scent of earth and flowers lingered, but the world felt distant, as if time was standing still.Her once bright blue eyes were looking at us, somehow telling us that everything was going to be okay.

“I think she knew we were waiting for her” she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the pink nose of Athena. “That we were waiting to find a home for us. I think… I think she knew it was her time to leave, huh?”

“Athena was more than amazing, wasn’t she?” I whispered. “She was with you through everything, your shadow, your comfort, your constant. And somehow, I think she knew it was time to let go… she knew you had a new life to care for, but she helped guide you here. Guide you to us…”

“You think so?”

“I do” I whispered. “You took care of her during all this time, taking her to the vet whenever she was sick. I think pets are with us for a reason. I think something, a God or whatever you want to call it, put her in your way to lead you to this moment. To lead you to us, to our baby”

She gasped softly as Athena’s breathing slowed, then stopped. I held her close to me, feeling how her body started to shake with her soft cries while she hugged the cat between us. The tears came, hot and heavy, as I held Dafne close. Athena had been with her for so long, a bridge between the past and this new life we were stepping into. Now, as her breath stopped, it felt like one chapter closed, and another quietly began.

dafnemorelli 

liked by charles_leclerc, ericamorelli, soleil_morelli and 792.579 others

dafnemorelli Ten years ago I was doing voluntary service in a shelter near Florence with the Prema team while recording a challenge. In that place, I met many dogs and cats, but only one of them stole my heart. 

Athena came to my life when I needed her, right after my grandma passed away, and she has been with me since then. She cuddled me when I felt down and always welcomed me home whenever I came home after a race. She was like a daughter to me, and I thank her for everything she did.

People say that pets come and go into our life for a reason. Athena came to my life to help me go through the loss of someone important to me and stayed with me to teach me how to be a mother, how to take care of someone else, animal or human. When Charles came into my life as my lover and we knew about the existence of our son, Athena knew that it was her time to leave, because she knew that I wasn't alone anymore.

My little baby left this world yesterday's evening, and now she's  sleeping finally in peace between the flowers of my garden, her favorite spot in the world. Charles and I are immensely sad because of this, but we know that she will be with us, taking care of us and our baby.

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charles_leclerc

liked by dafnemorelli, arthur_lecler, violetsinclair and 829.461 others

charles_leclerc This morning, after what happened yesterday, we made a small grave in the backyard for the most amazing cat I ever met. After that, I went to the city because I wanted to give Dafne a small gift.

I told Dafne I was going to a meeting in Maranello, and since her sisters were at home too, I knew she would be in good hands. So, with that, I grabbed the keys of my car and drove to Florence. At night, I was searching for a place to get the gift, and when I found it, I knew I had to go.

I cut some hairs from Athena and saved them in a little bag, keeping it in my wallet. And now those hairs are inside of the necklace I bought her, to keep Athena close to Dafne's heart.

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[37sommz]

000.⠀⠀NOW PLAYING: take a bow [1.7k, fluff?]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. synopsis:⠀never put michaela, max, and seb in a press room together. ✼. notes:⠀seb is and will always be michaela #1 defender. ✼. warnings:⠀none!

✼.⠀OCTOBER 24, 2020 — portimão, portugal

"Michaela, tell us about your strategy for tomorrow's race." A journalist called out, as the buzz of the crowded room grew expectant.

Michaela leaned back in her chair and took a sip of water before addressing the sea of faces. "Strategy?" She echoed, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Well, I plan to start from 17th, work my way through the pack, and then just teleport to the top step of the podium. What do you think of that, Max?"

Max couldn't help but chuckle at the side. "Sounds perfectly possible," He quipped, earning a round of laughter from the room. Sebastian, ever the accomplice to their comedic duo, nodded wistfully. "If only we had that technology."

The room lightened up a bit, the tension of the intense qualifying session dissipating. Another journalist, seemingly not in on the joke, fired off a more serious question. "Michaela, your performance at the Tuscan Grand Prix was historic, but since then, your team has struggled. How do you plan to overcome the recent setbacks?"

Michaela's smile remained, but her eyes narrowed in recognition of the journalist's voice. Anthony Georges, a motorsports reporter for the BBC, had never been shy to challenge Michaela's dodges. From her Formula 2 days, Georges had been the bane of her existence. The very reason she had walked out of a press conference during the first race of the 2018 season.

"Well, I've been taking inspiration from my latest shopping trip. You know, you might not find what you're looking for right away, but with persistence and a bit of luck, you can still come home with something special." She winked at the Brit, her words another clever dodge.

The room rippled with laughter again, but the journalist pressed on. "I meant technically speaking. What is Alfa Romeo doing to improve?" His lips pressed into a stern line, graying eyebrows furrowed in a smug, accusatory expression.

Michaela's expression softened as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Look, we're working tirelessly behind the scenes. It's not just about slapping on a new wing or tweaking the engine. We're in the middle of a season that's thrown more curveballs than you can imagine. But we're a team and together we're navigating these challenges."

The room fell quiet for a brief moment, Georges seemingly at a loss for a comeback for the moment. Sebastian, ever the opportunist, jumped in. "And let's not forget, she's still the only one here who's managed to avoid hitting a wall this weekend. That has to count for something, right?"

The tension broke again, the room erupting in sporadic chuckles. Max couldn't resist a laugh either, remembering his own unfortunate incident earlier in the weekend.

"Speaking of walls," Another journalist said. "What do you make of the criticism that your recent DNF in Sochi is a sign that you're not cut out for this level of racing?"

Michaela's smile never wavered. "Ah, the infamous 'female driver' stereotype," She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, if you ask me, I'd say it's more about the car and the track than my gender. But, hey, if you want to believe that I'm secretly trying to redecorate the circuits with my car parts, go ahead. That's not my problem."

The room was filled with a mix of shocked expressions and snickers. Sebastian leaned forward, a glint in his eye. "I must admit, I've hit a few walls in my time," He said with a self-deprecating grin. "It's part of the job description, isn't it?"

Michaela nodded solemnly, playing along. "Absolutely, Sebastian. It's in the fine print right under 'must be able to operate under extreme G-forces' and 'capable of consuming copious amounts of energy drinks.'" Her reference to energy drinks is emphasized by Max who lifts his own RedBull energy drink in a mocking toast.

A journalist, a newer face in the pressroom, from the back of the room, emboldened by Georges' initial challenge, decided to jump into the fray. "But isn't it true that your teammate Kimi Raikkonen seems to handle the car better?"

Michaela's eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked over at her press officer, Beata Gasparro, who motioned frantically for her to keep her calm. "Kimi's a legend," She said, "But let's not forget, he's also got more than a decade on me. I've got plenty of time to get the hang of it."

"I'd like to add that Mickey's actually doing relatively better than Kimi this season. She's outperformed him at all races this season except for what?" Sebastian spoke up in defense of the former Ferrari reserve driver.

He glanced towards Michaela and Max, knowing the two of them would know the answer to his question. The Alfa Romeo driver decided to remain quiet, choosing instead to stare straight ahead at the questioning journalist.

Max jumped in her stead responding with a casual, "Spa and Sochi.", and a smile as if punctuating the point. Sebastian nodded at the answer, closing the question off with, "I'm sure Kimi won't mind me saying that."

"He doesn’t care much about anything these days," Michaela muttered under her breath. The cheeky remark had the room in stitches again. Kimi was notorious for his icy personality, so it was no secret that his preference for not speaking much was a running joke in the paddock.

The journalist's face reddened, but he maintained his composure. "What about the psychological aspect, then? Do you feel any extra pressure being the first woman to achieve such a feat?"

Michaela leaned forward, her gaze intense. "I'm a driver, not a pioneer on a mission to prove anything about my gender. The pressure I feel is the same as any of these guys feel—to win races and do the best I can for the team. And honestly, if I let every question about my gender throw me off, I'd never get out of bed in the morning. So, let's talk about racing, yeah?"

Her words hit the journalist like a cold splash of water, but as she sensed an opportunity, she added fuel to the fire. "You know, we've got a race to talk about tomorrow. Maybe we should focus on the actual cars going around in circles instead of my inability to pee standing up." The room erupted in laughter, even Georges couldn't help but crack a smile.

"But seriously," Michaela continued, her tone earnest now, "I race because I love it. Because I'm good at it. And because every time I get into the cockpit, I'm racing against the best in the world, regardless of their gender. Now, if you have any more questions about the actual racing, I'd be happy to answer them. Otherwise, I think we're all set here."

Sebastian's hum of approval only served to embolden Michaela in knowing she had properly shut down the years of gendered attacks on her and her abilities.

"Alright, alright," Georges jumped in, seemingly admitting defeat, raising his hands in mock surrender. "We'll stick to the racing, as the lady wishes." He leaned back in his chair, a glint of respect in his eyes. "But, let's talk about strategy for real this time. What's the game plan for tomorrow?"

Michaela leaned back in her chair, a smirk playing on her lips. "Strategy doesn't work if you explain it," She quipped before taking a deep breath and giving a more serious response. "We're going to play it smart, work the tires, and hope for some good old-fashioned racing luck. That's all I can say without giving away our secret sauce."

The press conference continued, with questions flying from all angles, but the mood had shifted. The journalists, though still probing, had been put in their place and were now receiving the kind of answers that didn't feed into their narratives.

Michaela's responses remained sharp, and she was practiced at pivoting the conversation back to the race. "Tomorrow's going to be a tough one," She said, her eyes scanning the room, "But that's what we live for, right?" She grinned at Max and Sebastian, who nodded in agreement.

As the conference drew to a close, Michaela thanked the journalists with a wink directed towards the BBC reporter. As she received a smile that formed a semblance of respect between the two of them, she left the room a bit lighter. With Beata on her tail, however, she could feel the scolding coming from the middle-aged Italian woman.

"Michaela, you can't just say things like that," Beata whispered in rushed Italian urgently as they navigated through the corridors of the Algarve International Circuit.

Michaela turned to her, her smile never leaving her face. "Why not? It's the truth, isn't it?"

Beata sighed. "It's a fine line, Mickey. You don't want to be seen as disrespectful."

Michaela raised an eyebrow. "But I'm not. I'm just telling them to stick to the racing. I've earned that much, don't you think so?" The unspoken insinuation of all the hardship Michaela had been forced to navigate with the confrontational press during her junior career hung in the air.

With a tinge of acceptance, Beata sighed, "Why can I never win with you?"

Michaela just laughed as they approached the team's garage. "You know, I'm not trying to make enemies," She said, her voice growing softer. "But I've had enough of the bullshit. It's about time someone called them out." Her famously near-perfect Italian caught the ears of some of the mechanics who laughed in recognition, knowing how fed up the Australian had been in recent weeks.

"I know, I know," Beata sighed, her stern expression softening into one of understanding. "But you've got to be smart, Mickey. You can't let them get under your skin."

Michaela nodded, her eyes focused on the garage ahead. "I'm not letting them get under my skin. I'm just not going to let them define me anymore." She paused, looking back at her press officer. "You saw the crap I got when I first started. This is nothing."

Beata's expression softened. "You're right. You've come a long way. But we're at the highest level now, and the stakes are higher."

Michaela nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. "I know. And that's exactly why I'm going to keep pushing back. I've earned my seat here, and I'm not going to let anyone question that anymore."

✼. taglist:⠀feel free to send in an ask/comment to join the taglist <3

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[takeyourpillsbitchh]

Drabble bingo day four: “Is anyone here a doctor?”

This turned into kind of a meet cute and I’m not mad about it

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

“This is stupid, Mick, I’m fine. Really, just got dizzy,” Mandy huffed, holding his bundled up plaid shirt to her bleeding forehead.

“The fuck you’re fine. Your head is split open Mandy,” Mickey scoffed, “I’m going see if there’s a fuckin’ doctor here or something.”

“Mick—”

Mickey leaves the bathroom, where his sister had fallen and busted her head open before texting him like he could fuckin’ fix it. Fuck the blood was everywhere. He has stripped his flannel off to try and stop the blood, leaving him in his a white, now stained with blood, tank top.

He stops the first waitress he sees and her eyes widen as she looks him over.

“Yo, can you find out if anyone here is a doctor? My sister fell in the bathroom…” He trails off, fuck, maybe he should’ve just called 911.

“Oh, um, I—I think there’s a paramedic here!” She says quickly before scurrying off. He really hoped she was actually going get someone. He rushed back to the bathroom, trying to avoid the eyes that fell on him and the blood on his hand and shirt.

“Apparently there’s a paramedic here, just your luck, huh?” Mickey tries to smile but he’s worried as fuck to be honest.

“Let’s just hope he’s cute,” Mandy says but before Mickey can say anything back there’s a quick knock on the door.

Mickey pulls it open quickly and meets the green eyes of a tall redhead in a blue long sleeve, clearly the paramedic. His eyes assess Mickey quickly, and maybe it shouldn’t but it kinda turns Mickey on, but Mickey shakes his head and steps to the side.

“Not me, man. My sister.”

The attractive man, Ian, based on his name tag steps past Mickey and sits his bag on the ground. He talks to Mandy gently as he treats her head wound, telling her she’s definitely going to need stitches and have go to the hospital.

“Lucky for you, I can get you there pretty quickly,” Ian jokes lightly and Mandy’s looking at him with that love sick puppy look that makes Mickey want to gag. He grabs her hands and stands, “Come on, up slowly. Any more dizziness?”

“No,” she shakes her head slowly. “No, I think I’m okay.”

“Good,” Ian smiles and it lights up his entire face. He’s kind of beautiful if Mickey’s honest. “Why don’t you keep your hand in mine, I’ll help steady you while we walk out, okay?”

Mandy nods, lets Ian start leading her.

“Gonna go grab our stuff from the table,” Mickey says and suddenly those green eyes are meeting his, pinning him to his spot. “Do you want to ride with your sister? Or do you want to follow?”

“Oh, uh, I’ll follow,” Mickey nodded before looking at Mandy. “You cool with that?”

Mandy shrugs. “Yeah, but make sure you bring my food. Fuckin’ hungry.”

Mickey lets out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, the fuck ever.”

He rushes to the table, grabbing Mandy’s purse and shoving their phones inside of it. He flags the waitress down and gets a to-go box for the food and quickly hands his card over.

He starts heading to the front of the restaurant, stopping at the front.

“Hey, uh, that paramedic,” he says, when his waitress comes back, “did he get a chance to pay for his food?”

“Ian? No, usually if him or his work partner have to leave quickly they’ll come back and just pay the next day,” she shrugs casually.

“Can I pay for his food, like a thank you or whatever?” Mickey says and he swears this girl gives him heart eyes as she nods and takes his card again.

Once he gets his card back, he signs the receipt and before he can overthink it signs the bottom with his number, telling Ian to call him. Then he rushes out, the ambulance isn’t parked far from their car and he sees Ian inside stitching up Mandy’s head. He catches her eye and holds up the boxes of food with a grin and she chuckles.

The whole thing is over fairly quickly. The hospital isn’t far and they don’t want to do any X-rays. They assess Mandy and end up sending her home with some extra strength Tylenol and instruction to be ready for the next few days.

When they get home and Mandy showers he helps her get set up in bed, makes her some tea and leaves the bottle of Tylenol beside the bed.

It’s only after he showers, washing his sister blood from his skin, and changes into a fresh set of sweatpants does he notice a text on his phone from an unsaved number. And he can’t stop the stupid grin that stretches across his face as he reads it.

(Unknown 10:55 PM): Thanks for paying for my food Mickey, let me repay you with lunch tomorrow?

[nectarinesalt]

Cornflake Girl

...he showed up all wet on the rainy front step wearing shrapnel in his skin and the war he saw lives inside him still...

pairing: drafted/military/PTSD Eddie Munson x reader (whose brother died in the same war)

warnings: war, language, angst, death. terrible childhood, poverty. talk of domestic violence. eventual PTSD, eventual smut.

word count: 1k

author's note: slightly thinking about making this into a multi-chapter. tell me what you think.

~~~

The exhaust from the line of buses in the road choked you like the clammy, stone grip of Death himself. You found yourself in a trance - staring at the weeping mothers, the trembling young men - the only thing to shake you back to reality was a familiar firm grip on your own shaking fingers.

“...before you know it. Trust me, Wink.”

You stuttered over a response. “W-what?”

Your older brother Zeke raised an eyebrow at you with amusement. It’s the exact look that he had been giving you for weeks, and quite frankly, it pissed you off. How could you be so fucking casual about being drafted, Zeke?

In simple terms, the world as you knew it was ending. Your best friend, your big brother, your savior - he got that goddamned letter in the mail. 

Of course, Ezekiel Elliot Winkler didn’t bat an eye. Did he expect it? Well, you were sure he did. The newspapers talked about nothing but war. But… did Zeke want this? Your mind suddenly ran past all of the memories of the previous years; him and your father shoving each other around, Zeke ripping bottles of wine out of your mother’s frail hands. 

Your brother, only eleven months older than you, covering your ears in the stuffy closet you shared as your parents smashed dishes in the kitchen during a fight. You recalled how bad you shivered in the closet that night - probably because the furnace went out again, and no one had fixed it in months.

Probably as much as you shivered now. Zeke’s chocolate brown eyes were different from yours, lighter almost. His gaze flickered between your pathetic scowl and your hand, where your anxious thoughts manifested into a severe cuticle picking problem.

“C’mon, quit the picking, sis. How’s an engagement ring ever gonna look on a chewed up finger like that?” Zeke winked at you, knowing all too well that you swore off marriage over a year ago.

His sense of humor didn’t fade one bit, not even as the heavy bag slung over his shoulder. You helped him pack it the night before, last minute as always. 

You really want to pack this much? 

He smiled that toothy smile of his, dimples catching the shadow from the bare bulb above you both.

It’s all I got, Wink.

A deep gasp rose in your throat and you squeezed your eyes shut. Your memories escaped you suddenly, but then came rushing back with the enveloping squeeze of Zeke’s long arms lifting you a few inches off the cold pavement. He had always been at least half a head taller than you.

Ignoring the scrutinizing gaze of your mother, Zeke mumbled in your ear. “Just… hang in there. Please? Someone needs to take care of her while I’m gone.”

You fought the urge to argue, to protest. You didn’t want to watch over your drunken mother. You’d be eighteen within six months - who’d be responsible for her then? After all of the nights you both went to bed hungry, the narcissistic comments as puberty hit you like a semi truck. What the fuck did you owe her? 

She didn’t attend the funeral of your father when her car wrapped around a tree… only for her to walk away with nothing but bruises.

You were shocked that she had the motivation to leave the couch to send off Zeke. Hell, right now, you were stunned she was even slightly sober in the parking lot of Hawkins High School. But that was probably for her reputation's sake, not for her only son being drafted like a pig to the slaughter.

A sudden flash of silver caught your eye.

Snapping like a twig in the middle of a dry Indiana January, your neck craned instinctively towards the sight: two buses down, the flicker of a silver chain on the strap of a man’s duffel bag. 

Eddie. Your best friend.

Well, your former best friend. Before you had to start wearing a bra. Before your PMS and family stress turned you into a hormonal monster. Before he popped boners every time you smoked behind the bleachers with him during cheer practice. Before… before he did nothing but obsess over Chrissy Cunningham. 

You sighed.

Eddie Munson, born the same year, nearly the same damned month, as Zeke, got the letter in the mail, too. Duty called to him like a whisper in the night, beckoning him with a curling finger, looking at all of his failures, insecurities; Eddie didn’t think he truly had a future in Hawkins. So why not embrace the draft?

At least, that’s what you imagined it was like. Now, your puffy eyes drew to him like a magnet. Eddie looked drastically different, yet all the same. His hair was buzzed like it was when you were in 5th grade. He kept his back awkwardly straight as he spoke silently to his uncle, Wayne. That tiny family was always so good at trying to make life easier for each other. 

You silently begged them to let the walls down. Shed tears. Hug deeply. But no, nothing like that happened. 

Zeke said his farewell to your frigid mother as you focused on the sparse Munson family. Eddie held a firm grip on his uncle as he pulled him in for a brief embrace. As your childhood best friend turned for the bus, he immediately froze at the sight of you across the parking lot.

Fuck.

A whistle sounded nearby, tearing you from the invisible silver chain that connected you to Eddie.

“Zeke!” you choked out, refusing to let go of the strap on his bag. “Write to me. Please tell me you’ll write.”

“I thought you hated my handwriting?”

“Shut up!” You gripped his strap harder, pulling him forward in a gut-crushing hug, trying to ignore the feeling of Eddie’s eyes on you. 

The last thing you remembered was the easygoing smirk on Zeke’s face as he waved through the bus windows.

[powderpinkandsweeet]

Abby x Reader

Some sfw hurt comfort since I was craving it. Unoriginal but we ball. Abby keeps getting held up at work, missing date nights and coming home at all hours of the night, and you’re getting sick of it.

The waitress had refilled your glass three times now, and the wine stopped burning on the way down by now. Abby was late. Over an hour late, but it felt like so much longer. Each minute going by slower than the last, especially with the repeated visits from your over-attentive waitress. 'Abby oughta learn something about attentiveness from her' you joked to yourself bitterly.

You tap your phone screen to check the time once again. Opening it, you see no notifications from Abby and your long string of worried texts.

5:25PM - Hey! I got us a table :) see you soon <3

5:37PM - Are you on your way yet? I can order you a drink

6:00PM - Everything okay?

6:10PM - Abbyyyy

6:11PM - Abby

6:35PM - Abigail.

6:45PM - Abigail Anderson.

You decided it was the last straw, and prodded her once more.

7:00PM - I'm so done. If you're not here in the next ten minutes I'm going home.

You practically threw your phone at the table, and crossed your arms to wait out the next ten minutes, just you and your fourth glass of wine. Ten minutes later, your glass is empty and you're flagging down the waitress for the check. You pretended not to notice the pitying look she gave you.

7:04 - I'm venmo requesting you for my drinks

You called an uber and steeped in your anger all the way home. Wine-drunk and pissed off, you kicked off your shoes and fell into bed, still dressed up with nowhere to go. Your phone buzzed, and you were on it immediately.

Abby, 7:30PM - Held up at work for a bit, check in just a sec

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," you blurt out loud, "you didn't even read them, did you?" you called to the empty room.

You, 7:31PM - cool, have so much fun

Abby, 7:40PM - ???

Abby, 7:52PM - We were getting drinks tonight?? Where at? I can still meet you there if you give me just a bit.

You: 7:53PM - Dinner, not drinks. Made a reservation 3 weeks ago and sent you the invite. It's on the calendar on the fridge."

You: 7:54PM - And don't bother, I'm already home.

Your message was read instantly, but you couldn't see the three dots so you knew Abby wasn't typing.

'You fucked up. Fucked up real bad this time' Abby thought to herself as she grabbed a bouquet of grocery store flowers and a tub of ice cream from the passenger seat of her car. She took deep breaths as she climbed the steps to your shared home. After the door locked behind her and she'd toed off her shoes, Abby checked her phone for the time, '8:48PM.' "Fuck..." she whispered under her breath. Hours late for your date, and it took her far too long to get out of the office, pick up the flowers and ice cream, bear through Seattle traffic, and make it home to you.

The lights were out and the house was silent as she made her way to your bedroom. She saw you through the partially opened door, flopped face down in the bed, wearing a dress and stockings that were far too formal for bedtime. Maybe it was a little too late for flowers and ice cream. Abby pushed the door open, and it gave her away as the hinges creaked.

You stirred, tiredly lifting your head to turn and glare at Abby. She had to hold in a wince at the two tracks of mascara down your cheeks. You didn't seem excited to see her, rewarding her presence only with a "hmph" and dropping your head back onto the bed. Muffled, she could barely make out your complaint of "bout time you showed up." She held in a chuckle at your stubbornness, knowing it would only get her in more trouble. It didn’t help that you were so cute when you’re angry.

Abby sighed and started to peel her blazer from her broad shoulders, "I know I'm late, I didn't mean to let this happen. You know I hate disappointing you, honey."

You sat up quickly, "oh don't you honey me, Abigail."

"Mhm, so we're using government names now?"

"Yep," you quickly replied.

Abby called out for you with a pleading tone, "Listen, I'm sorry. I got wrapped up at work and-"

"They needed you, yes, I know," you looked her straight in the eyes, "we've been here before, Abby, but it never changes. No matter how many times you say sorry, it's not worth much unless you actually change the action you keep being sorry for."

"Baby, you know I never want to disappoint you."

You sat upright and threw your hands in the air, “then stop doing it! Yeah okay your job needs you, but I need you too. I don't think it's selfish of me to want one night alone with the woman who claims she loves me.”

Abby stepped closer to you and pointed an accusing finger in your direction. “Don’t. Don’t say that, you know I love you more than anything.”

"Then act like it!" you sob, "because sometimes it feels like you love your job more. Because this isn't the first time, Abby, and it obviously won't be the last." You had realized right when you said them that your words were too harsh, and choked on your next breath.

Abby was hurt but overcome with shame at the realization that she’d been hurting you consistently. For you to feel second to her hit her like a ton of bricks. Abby sat beside you on the bed, leaning forward with her head in her hands. After a heavy sigh, she looked up to meet your eyes, "how long did you wait at the restaurant for?"

You chuckled humorlessly, "psh... nearly an hour and a half."

"I see... well you look really pretty if that's worth anything."

"Ha! You should have seen me two hours ago when my mascara wasn't on my chin."

Abby smiled. Even though it was sarcastic, you still kept your humor, and that was a good sign. "Well, I think the mascara tracks bring the whole look together."

You chuckled again, "you really think so?"

She smiled wider, dimples showing on her cheeks. "You look gorgeous, sweetie. Now come on, up up, gotta get you ready for bed." Abby gave your wrist a gentle tug, but you groaned and remained firmly in place. Your many glasses of wine must have caught up to you. Sliding her arms under your limp frame, Abby lifted you from the bed and carried you to the en suite bathroom.

You sat on toilet lid as she ran a hot bubble bath. While the tub filled, Abby grabbed makeup wipes from your drawer and set to cleaning you up. She held your chin gently with one hand and wiped the smeared makeup from your eyes and cheeks. You had relaxed into her touch and let your eyes slip closed while she wiped them, being drawn from your reverie by a kiss on the nose. "There, all clean. Lets get you in the bath now."

After you had submerged your aching muscles in the water, you looked up at Abby expectantly. "Need anything else, princess?"

"I need you to come sit in the bath with me."

Abby couldn't stifle a laugh, making out through chuckles, "baby, I'd hardly fit in there, plus there's too much water in it right now. It'll overflow if I try to get in there with you."

You pouted and looked away at her refusal. After a moment, you pulled the plug from the bottom of the tub to lower the water. Abby smiled, thinking she must have earned back your favor if you were being this stubborn for her company. She couldn't resist when you looked up at her and plead "I just wanna be close to you." Abby's heart thumped in her chest at you admission, so she undressed.

She was right that the bath would overflow, even after you had drained a few inches of water. But it didn't matter when you were snug between Abby's spread legs, back pressed to her front and your head resting against her shoulder. Her fingers scratched at your scalp and played with her hair as she hummed. You melted into her gentle touch, content. All you had wanted was her time, and her presence.

[hookhausenschips]

Episode 1: Arrival in Singapore

Main Menu

Summary: Y/N arrives in Singapore for the F1 Grand Prix, instantly captivated by the city's vibrant energy and the excitement of race week. Exploring the paddock, she interacts with team officials and mechanics. Her conversation with a driver reveals a shared understanding of the racing spirit, whether on the streets of Barbados or the tracks of F1.

WC: 2,014

Warnings: none

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

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The first thing that hit me when I stepped off the plane was the heat. It wasn’t the thick, dry heat I was used to in the Caribbean, though—it was different. The kind that sticks to your skin, clings to your clothes, but somehow feels alive. The entire city seemed to hum with energy, as if the air itself knew what was coming. It was race week in Singapore, and the city was buzzing.

Everything was different here—the sharp, clean scent of the ocean breeze, the lights bouncing off the skyscrapers, and the buzz of excitement in the streets. This place was alive, electric, as if the city itself was waiting for something big to happen. It made me feel like I belonged here, even though I was just visiting.

I grabbed my bag and moved through Changi Airport, letting my eyes take in the sights. Everything was sleek, clean, and high-tech. Even the airport looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. I’d done well for myself back home, but this? This was next-level. But then, that’s what I’d signed up for. I wasn’t here just to watch the Grand Prix. I was here to be in the thick of it, right up close to the action.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, adjusting my curls—waist-length, dark brown, with blonde streaks that always caught the light just right. In this city, where the lights danced off every surface, I could feel them bouncing off me, too.

As I walked through the terminal, my phone buzzed. I glanced down at the message. “Your VIP pass is ready for pickup. Welcome to the F1 world.”

I grinned to myself. VIP access. For someone who grew up racing on the streets, this was surreal. The paddock, the garages, the cars—it was all within reach, closer than it had ever been. I’d been obsessed with racing my entire life. The roar of engines, the smell of burning rubber, the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I pushed my car to its limits. But this… this was Formula 1. The pinnacle of motorsport. The elite.

But who was I kidding? The second I heard the low, throaty growl of a supercar revving in the distance, my pulse quickened. I was a street racer. Fast cars and the thrill of the race were in my blood. Relaxing wasn’t really in my vocabulary.

I had heard about the F1 Grand Prix for years. It wasn’t the same as the streets of Bridgetown back home, but speed was speed. The opportunity to see Formula 1 up close, to be in the middle of all this? That was something I couldn’t pass up.

I hailed a cab, slipping into the backseat as I stared out at the city. The buildings stretched toward the sky, lit up by neon signs and glowing billboards. It felt like a different world. I’d been to big cities before, but there was something about Singapore, especially during Grand Prix week, that made everything feel larger than life. Like I was part of something bigger.

---

After a quick stop at the hotel, I headed straight to the track. My VIP pass dangled from my neck, granting me access to places most fans could only dream of. As I walked through the paddock, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. This wasn’t just about watching the race. I was getting a look behind the curtain, into the heart of F1.

The paddock was like a bustling little village of its own, full of high-end trailers, team members, and engineers moving between the garages. Celebrities, influencers, and big-money guests wandered around, but I wasn’t here for them. My eyes were locked on the cars, the mechanics, and the drivers who made all of this happen.

I made my way through the paddock, slipping past groups of fans as I found my way to the garages. That’s when I felt it—eyes on me. I glanced around casually, spotting a few drivers and mechanics. I wasn’t sure if they were curious about who I was or why I was there, but I couldn’t blame them. I wasn’t exactly your average F1 fan.

I approached the first garage, catching a glimpse of the pit crew bustling around one of the cars. The smell of petrol and hot rubber filled the air, familiar and intoxicating. It was like the streets back home, only amplified. As I stepped closer, I heard someone call out.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you with someone?” A team official approached, eyeing my VIP pass but still cautious.

I flashed him a smile, holding up my pass. “Just here for the tour. Figured I’d start by seeing the real action.”

He smiled, a little more relaxed now. “You picked the right spot. This is where the magic happens.”

I nodded, stepping a little closer to the car. The sleek design, the vibrant paint job—it was a work of art. But more than that, it was a machine built for speed, for perfection. I could almost feel the power radiating off it.

“You’re a fan of F1?” the official asked, clearly testing the waters to see if I was just another casual onlooker.

I gave him a sideways glance. “I’m a fan of racing. Whether it’s in the streets or on a professional track, speed is speed. You know what I mean?”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly not expecting that. “Ah street racing, huh? Well, you’re in for a treat here. This is the big leagues.”

I smiled again, a little wider this time. “I know.”

---

As I moved from garage to garage, it became clear I wasn’t just another fan. The mechanics I spoke to were surprised by how much I knew—about engines, tires, aerodynamics. I wasn’t just here to admire the shiny cars. I was here to understand them, to see how they compared to the ones I’d driven in Barbados.

“Have you ever worked on a car like this before?” one of the engineers asked as I leaned over to get a closer look at the engine of one of the Red Bull cars.

I shook my head, grinning. “Not exactly like this, but I’ve gotten my hands dirty a few times. Enough to know what makes them tick.”

The engineer laughed, clearly impressed. “Most people just see the glamour. But you… you get it.”

Before I could respond, someone else caught my attention—a driver standing near the garage, helmet in hand, watching me with curiosity. I recognized him instantly. Oscar Piastri, the rookie. He was young, but he had that same intensity I’d seen in all the best racers. The kind that said he didn’t care about fame or fortune—just speed.

He stepped closer, offering a casual smile. “You’re not like the usual VIPs around here.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what are the usual VIPs like?”

Oscar chuckled, glancing at the car beside us. “They don’t usually know what an aero rake is, for starters.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well, I’ve spent a lot of time around cars. Racing’s kind of my thing.”

“Street racing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, like he was piecing it all together.

I raised my eyebrow questioning him, his face turned pink as he scratched the back of his neck, “Might’ve caught some of your conversation with the official earlier.”

I nodded, feeling a little more at ease. “It’s not as different from this as people think. The stakes are high, and the cars have to be perfect. The only real difference is the setting.”

Oscar looked genuinely intrigued. “You know, I’ve always wondered what it’s like racing with no rules. No track limits, no officials telling you what you can and can’t do.”

I shrugged. “It’s freeing, but it’s dangerous. You learn real fast that one wrong move can end it all. But that’s the thrill, right?”

Oscar nodded thoughtfully, a spark of understanding in his eyes. “I get that. I mean, we have rules, but at the end of the day, it’s still about pushing the limits. Every race is a risk.”

We stood there for a moment, both of us understanding the unspoken bond between racers. It didn’t matter if it was on the streets of Barbados or the tracks of Singapore—racing was racing. The rush, the danger, the need to go faster than anyone else—it was all the same.

Oscar glanced over at his car. “You ever driven one of these?”

I shook my head, letting my eyes linger on the sleek machine in front of me. “Not yet.”

He smiled, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Well, maybe we can fix that before you leave.”

He stepped a little closer, his curiosity clearly piqued. “You got a favourite driver, then? Or are you more of a keep-them-guessing type?”

I met his gaze, holding it steady. “I don’t really pick favourites. I’m more interested in how people handle themselves when the pressure’s on.”

He smiled, clearly amused. “Fair enough. Guess that’s what we’re all here for, right?”

Before I could respond, one of the team members called his name, and Oscar gave me a quick nod before heading off. “See you around,” he said over his shoulder.

“Maybe,” I replied, watching him disappear into the garage.

---

As the day wore on, I toured more garages, talked to more people. Every step deeper into the paddock felt like peeling back layers of this world. I learned more about the cars, the drivers, the teams—and I could tell that they were starting to learn more about me, too. Word spread fast in a place like this, and by the time I made my way to the Ferrari garage, I was starting to get a few curious glances.

It was getting later in the afternoon, but the adrenaline from being in this space kept me going. I wandered over to the last garage of the day, watching as the crew finished up work on Charles Leclerc’s car. The Ferrari was a beauty—sleek, red, and built for speed. I leaned against the wall, watching the pit crew work with precision.

As I stood there, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see another familiar face—Carlos Sainz. His easygoing smile put me at ease instantly. “You’ve been making the rounds,” he said, glancing at my VIP pass. “Not bad for a first-timer.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I like to get a full picture of what I’m dealing with.”

Carlos chuckled. “You talk like a racer.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s because I am one.”

He looked surprised for a split second before his grin widened. “Which kind?”

I could feel my lips turn up into a smirk, “What kind of racing do you think I do Mr. Sainz?”

His eyes narrowed as his eyes inspected almost every inch of my being, “I don’t take you for the NASCAR type or rally cars. Maybe something more dangerous and less professional?”

I nodded. “Back home in Barbados. It’s a different kind of track, but the thrill’s the same.”

Carlos crossed his arms, clearly interested. “And what do you think of all this? F1 compared to the streets?”

I glanced over at the Ferrari behind him. “It’s impressive. The precision, the power. But it’s still a machine. At the end of the day, it’s all about the driver.”

Carlos laughed, clearly enjoying my answer. “You should come by again tomorrow. I think the other drivers would love to hear more of your perspective.”

“Maybe I will,” I said with a grin, pushing off the wall. “Thanks for the invite.”

---

As I left the paddock, the neon lights of Singapore flickered above me, casting a glow over everything. The city was alive, and I could feel its pulse in sync with mine. The excitement of the race, the allure of the cars, the connection I felt with the drivers—it was all building.

Taglist: @omgsuperstarg

[prettypinkporkchop]

Love love love u 🥹 can u do one where She doesn’t have a good relationship with her family but embry and his mom love having her over

LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU TOO!

"I think it's about time for you to move out. You're an adult now." Your mom sighs, leaning on your doorframe and crossing her arms.

You look up to her from your bed and nod in agreement. "Yeah. I've gathered that. Been trying but it's fucking hard." You spit with attitude.

She rolls her eyes and walks in. She grabs the vase of flowers that Embry gave you and drops it on the floor. It shatters everywhere. You lift to your feet and start fuming. You fists clench in anger.

"Why would you do that?!" You scream.

She shrugs her shoulders with a smirk and then goes to your door. Before she shuts it, she says, "Clean that up."

You run after her, but your dad steps in front of you. "Kid, calm down." He grabs your shoulders and looks you in the eyes.

You shrug him off of you and try to hold back tears. "Look, we are just tired of helping you so much. You work now. And what, Embry? He's a man. Maybe he should get out of that weird gang of his, get a real job, and his own house." He chuckles.

And with that, you've had enough. You walk to your room and fill up your purse with stuff you need. You run out of the house, ignoring your parent's questions. You get inside your car THAT YOU PAY FOR, and drive off.

Tiffany absolutely adores you. It is just her and Embry. Embry plans on buying this really adorable house not far from his mother. Obviously, it's not a quick process. You stay there more than you do at your own house. Tiffany has even offered you a place to live. You've turned them down because you're not sure how Embry would feel about moving in with him after just a year.

You knock on their door, and Embry answers it. "Baby! You good?" He looks over your face once he sees the sadness.

"No. I'm not sure how long I can take this." You fall into his arms and sob.

He holds onto you and rubs your arm. He slides down slowly to the ground, holding you in his crossed legs. He leaves kisses on your head. "My sweet baby, I love you. Can you please just stay here?" He asks for the first time.

You look up at him with red eyes and cheeks. You're surprised he asked. It's only been Tiffany and you've figured he wasn't ready for that move yet.

"Embry, are you sure?" You sniffle.

He smiles and holds your cheek. "Baby, the moment I imprinted, there was no way I could lose you. I would've married you on the spot." He says.

You grab onto his neck and kiss him softly. He kisses you back before pulling away. "Mom's coming." He whispers.

The front door opens all the way, and you look up to see Tiff. "Hey, come inside. You're letting the bugs in." She says. She grabs a hold of your arm, lifting you up and pulling you to her chest. "C'mon baby. I'll make you a plate of dinner." She cooes.

You nod your head and slowly let her go. Embry wraps an arm around your waist, softly taking a squeeze at your love handle.

You guys sit at the table and eat the food Tiff made.

"Holy shit, this is so good." You say with a mouthful.

She bats her eyelashes and leans into you. "Thank you, sweet girl." She giggles. She moves back into her chair and then eyes the both of you. "So, when's the wedding?" She smirks.

"Mother!" Embry laughs and then grabs your hand.

"That's a great question." You face Embry.

He looks back at you with a smirk. "Soon." He says.

"I LOVE having you over, y/n. Honestly, if Embry ever makes you upset, tell me. I will actually disown him." She laughs.

You burst into laughter, too, and Embry picks up a piece of his food and throws it at his mom.

After dinner, you guys chill in the living room. Watching bits and pieces of Coraline.

"Y/n, I'm serious! You're more than welcome to live here. And when Embry gets that house, it's just you two!" She says, setting down her phone and lifting the small blanket over her arms.

"At this point, I think I will. I can't even thank you enough for everything you do for me. I love you." You lean into her body and hold her tight.

"You're my favorite. I love you too." She giggles while looking at a glaring Embry.

"Do you need help packing, baby?" Embry asks.

"It would be appreciated." You smile at him.

You go home that night and sleep there for the last time, planning on waking up and packing.

"Hey, I made breakfast." Your mom says while flickering your light to wake you up.

"Okay." You groan and pull the covers over your head.

"Oh yeah, also, I'm borrowing your car today. Mine broke down. I have to get to work." Your mom says.

You sir up and stare at her like she's stupid. "Hell no, you're not. I pay for that, and I have plans today."

She rolls her eyes and slams your door shut. "Fucking brat." You hear her yell.

Bitch ended up taking your car anyway. You call Embry.

"She's gone and took my car. Can you come over and help me pack?" You ask.

"Yes, baby. Coming now." He says. You can hear him shuffling and then keys dangling.

"Also, drop me off at the nursing home. I'm grabbing my car from her." You laugh.

He chuckles at your plan. "Bet." He says.

You don't have much in your room besides clothes and some random trinkets. You've got it all packed in two backpacks, a duffle bag, and some crammed in Embry's truck. You two hit the road to the nursing home.

He drives through the parking lot, finding your car and stopping. "How are you going to get the key?" He asks looking at you.

"Easy. She leaves them in the console like a dumbass. I've always told her she's gonna get them locked inside one day." You smirk.

You get in your car and drive off. Embry follows behind you. You drive to his house and see that Tiffany is gone. She's at work or grocery shopping. But Quil and Jacob step out of the house with their hands in their pockets.

You step out and look at them with confusion. "Is there a party here?" You laugh.

"Nope! Here for support and to help unpack." Quil smiles.

You walk up and hug both of them. "Thanks, guys."

Embry walks up and stands beside you. He softly grabs your chin to make you look up at him. He presses his lips on yours. You kiss him back and grab his hair. He pulls away and Quil and Jacob start gagging.

"Let's get to unpacking." He softly pats your bottom.

YUP YUP! I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY?! BE HONEST?