#it's vegas all over again; it's him not letting her in - letting her help him - again; it's him leaving her in the dark again

[lisbonsteresa]

seeking directions for the nearest cliff

[hotchner-edu]

Hi! I saw you take requests and I love the way you write Aaron— the runner's stamina drabble was just *chef's kiss*. I was wondering if you could write a fluffy one shot where reader falls asleep on Hotch's shoulder while on the jet ride home from a case, and he secretly kinda thinks it's adorable even though the rest of the team teases him about it? :')

Sleepy Days (Drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

A small frown tugs at your lips as you rest your eyes for a second, feeling the alluring arms of sleep wrapping themselves around you. All the noise in the jet seems to drift further and further away as you are enveloped in darkness, nestled in the comfort that slumber was tempting you with.

You've been nodding off for well over ten minutes now, head tipping forward toward the table like an unrestrained bowling ball, catching the keen attention of your unit chief.

Aaron was sitting in the chair beside yours, having noticed your fatigue since the jet took off. He made a note to slide away the open book in front of you to mark the page, knowing you'd be annoyed with yourself if you lost your spot while falling asleep.

You were on the brink of completely slipping off the edge of consciousness now, and you could only curse your own inattentiveness for your predicament. The team's latest case had them flying out to Las Vegas, but instead of ending on a high note with popping bottles and slot machines, you ended up catching a small cold while surrounded by plumes of cigarette smoke.

It was to your luck that JJ always carried around medicine and first-aid supplies in her go-bag. Unluckily, you had grabbed a deceivingly orange bottle of cough syrup from her bag thinking it was DayQuil, not realizing it was honey-flavored NyQuil until it was already too late.

As you succumb to your sleepiness, the last thing trailing across your mind is the absolute pain you're going to have in your neck when you wake up.

Aaron can tell that you're no longer awake anymore from the way your shoulders completely sag down, and how your face melts into a relaxed expression— one that he can't help but steal another glance at. He leans over to insert your bookmark into your book, eyebrows jumping up in surprise when he feels your head tilting and falling onto his shoulder.

A hint of a smile crawls onto his face at the feeling of you leaning against him, and he has to ignore the heat creeping up his neck as he subtly scoots closer to you to let you rest easier on him.

The words on the file in front of him start to meld together as he isn't able to draw his focus away from the feeling of your warm body beside his.

"Hotch." Derek's voice grabs his attention, the other man's sharp whisper tinged with a bit of amusement. "You're a softy at heart, huh? C'mon, admit it."

Aaron raises an eyebrow and frowns at him, shaking his head. "You'd do the same."

Derek shrugs at that, still smiling as he puts his headphones back on. To Aaron's misfortune, the small exchange caught the attention of the rest of the team, and while Spencer is polite enough to just smile softly and continue playing chess with himself, the others are immediately smirking at him.

"Want me to take a picture?" Dave teases him quietly, barely suppressing a chuckle as he looks at you both fondly. "Who knows when it'll happen again."

"Yeah, I'll bet the mortification will be too much." Emily jokes softly, glancing at your slumped figure with a grin. Aaron knew she was right about that, he knew you'd be a bit embarrassed about falling asleep on your boss, and would probably be conscious about distance going forward.

JJ shakes her head and stirs her tea, chiming in with a lingering smile. "Let's not say anything about this. I already feel guilty about the whole NyQuil thing."

"Yeah, JJ, why honey?" Emily mumbles with a small snort, directing her attention to her blonde friend as they begin to engage in hushed conversation.

Dave snaps a photo of you and Aaron with a proud smile, probably already thinking of sticking it in his secret scrapbook.

"Dave." Aaron warns the older man with no actual heat. He puts his hands up and backs off with a smile, looking down to his phone again and typing on it.

Aaron has to suppress the small smile threatening to appear on his face, grateful for his team's high spirits despite their teasing. He looks back down to your peaceful face, unable to stop his eyes from tracing around your delicate features.

He's only drawn away from his gazing when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Drawing the device out from his suit pocket, he looks down at the notifications with an unimpressed frown.

Dave: *sent 1 photo*

Dave: stop drawing it out and just go get dinner together.

[theemporium]

violet fluff, luke! “this is my girlfriend everyone!” and “i think my family/friends really liked you. maybe more than they liked me.” 😋😋

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

55. “This is my girlfriend everyone!”

.

“Luke—” 

“I need to tell everyone!”

“Please, get down from there.” 

“M’not high enough!” 

“You’re drunk!” 

“Am not!” 

You let out a heavy sigh, stuck between wanting to look away from the train wreck in front of you and terrified that if you even blinked, something bad would happen to the boy. Because, unfortunately for you, drunk Luke Hughes was a bit of an adventurer when he was the right level of drunk and his current goal was trying to climb onto the makeshift bar. 

It had been one last party to close off the season before everyone headed their own ways for the off season. They were ending the season far earlier than they would have liked, but Nico was determined to have a happy send off before everyone ran off to hide away and lick their wounds over the summer. He wanted them to have one last moment as the team they were before it inevitably changed next season. 

It was supposed to be chill until Jack and Dawson started handing out their homemade jello shots—and then everything went to shit. 

And somewhere along five tester jello shots and a handful of some crazy strong Czech beer that Palat had brought with him, Luke was far too gone to really understand or care about logic or reasoning—like climbing a makeshift bar half-naked was not the way to go. 

“Help me,” you pleaded with the older Hughes but Jack only cackled, shaking his head and already reaching for his phone. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” he grinned. 

You glared at the boy before turning to your boyfriend atop of the bar, attempting your best puppy dog eyes. “Luke, baby, please get down before you hurt yourself.” 

But Luke stubbornly shook his head. “I need to tell everyone something very important.” 

“Curtis is never letting him live this down,” Jack murmured with a snort.

Luke cleared his throat until all eyes were on him. 

“Oh god,” you heard Nico mutter from somewhere behind you.

“This is my girlfriend everyone!” Luke announced as he pointed towards you with a sappy grin on his face. “And I love her very much and I want to marry her. Right now.” 

“You aren’t in Vegas, buddy,” John called out to him.

Luke paused before he spoke again. “I am booking tickets to Vegas right now to marry my pretty girlfriend!” 

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, stuck somewhere between a laugh and a groan as you felt your whole face heat up.

“Mom is gonna be so pissed this is how he proposed,” Jack commented, turning the camera to you and giggling when you tried to smack it out of his hands.

“He’s not serious,” you said, though that didn’t help the fact your face was still burning up.

“I am so serious!” Luke called out.

“Yeah, well, get down and then we will see because I am not interested in a fiancé with broken limbs,” you retorted, letting out a sigh of relief as he began to climb down from the bar. 

“So, Vegas?”

“Shut up, Jack.” 

“There goes my offer to be your maid of honour.”

.

[btsgotjams27]

perfect palette | jjk

vegas isn’t your first choice, but you love your best friend and are willing to do anything for her, including planning her bachelorette party. everything is all set, ready to go for the last day, until you receive a text from the model you’ve hired. he’s out sick but have no fear, he’s sent the next best thing to replace him for the night.

✨ title: perfect palette

✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader (nicknamed Ro)

✨ genre/au: slice of life, light angst | model!jk, las vegas!au

✨ rating: m/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.5k

✨ warnings: language, drinking, mild nudity, jungkook + reader are tipsy, kissing, reader is nicknamed Ro but is only called by her name a handful of times.

✨ a/n: hi again! so this idea came to me when i was in vegas lmao, and the painting idea is from 'this is us' (the show). i just thought it was a fun premise. i hope you enjoy it.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Your head is pounding, and your stomach is growling. As you pop your head up, you notice the hotel room is a complete mess: furniture has been knocked over, empty tequila and champagne bottles litter the room, and clothes and money are scattered across the floor.

A low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover up with the duvet. You definitely don’t remember sleeping with someone. Your mind races, attempting to recall last night’s shenanigans.

Whoever is next to you mumbles under their breath and turns over on their stomach. The silver chain that’s adorning their neck glimmers from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You can’t help but notice their broad chiseled back and the markings on it. No, they’re not scratches from nails—they’re purple lines, going from one beauty mark to the next, and each mark is surrounded by a pair of red lips. Turning your hand over, you see it’s stained with purple, matching the color on their back.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

You lean over, peering at the mysterious person. A scalloped tattoo delicately covers their shoulder and the rest of their arm is covered in ink. You giggle when you discover the tattoos are colored an array of hues—blue, red, green, and orange. It looks almost like a child was told to have fun and went wild with coloring.

The person groans again, switching to lay on their back side. You pull back, holding the duvet up to your chin. A small gasp comes out when you recognize the mystery person—it’s Jeon Jungkook, your old college buddy. Five years have passed since you last saw him at graduation. Last you heard, he was in Los Angeles, taking a jab at modeling and acting. Well, with his perfect face and body (your eyes quickly scanned over him), who would say no to him?

The real question now was, how did he end up in Vegas, and specifically in your hotel room?

—

The day before.

“Ro, cheer up please. We’re in Vegas, not a funeral,” Lottie says, swiping on a pink lip stain. “You’re only gonna feel like shit if you keep scrolling through those photos.”

Lottie’s right because looking through your ex-college sweetheart’s wedding photos is not doing anything for you. Four years of committing to a man who said he never wanted to get married, but there he was with a ring on his finger.

Your phone is swiped from your hand. “Hey!” you protest, standing to snatch it back. “Give it to me!”

“No! I will not let my maid-of-honor mope around like a sad puppy. Forget Jimin! He’s a married man now and a Libra—an October Libra too, I might add. That should’ve been a red flag right off the bat!”

She’s been your work wife for the past three years, and the two of you bonded over talking shit about your boss and colleagues. The only anecdotes she knew of Jimin were the ones you spilled on drunken nights.

“Lottie, give me my phone. I have to make sure everything is ready for tonight. It has to be perfect,” you explain, holding out your hand, insisting she gives it to you. But it was an excuse to keep lurking.

The itinerary for today consisted of: brunch, pool and cocktails, dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, then a night of painting–naked painting you should add. As if the Magic Mike show wasn't enough skin for Lottie and the rest of the crew. You somehow stumbled upon a small business, ‘Perfect Palette’ combining models and painting into one. This would be the next closest thing to being with a fully naked man. It's been a hot minute since you've seen one.

The bride-to-be reluctantly hands over the phone and you're scrolling through emails, switching apps to confirm everything.

“Take a chill pill, babe. Everything doesn't have to be perfect, but I am excited about painting tonight!” Lottie smiles and claps, then leans over to give you a hug. “Okay! Time to get ready for brunch.” She runs off to the restroom. “And no more pining over Jimin, please!” She yells back.

It's hard not to look through the photos of your ex-boyfriend because it was supposed to be you, not the woman he's kissing and holding. If only you could go back to graduation and fix things between you and Jimin…maybe life would've turned out differently for you.

As you open up Instagram (your burner account, obviously), you see a new post of him and his wife on a plane with the caption, “Can't wait to honeymoon in Bali.”

Bali was your dream honeymoon location.

With a heavy sigh, flinging yourself onto the bed, you turn off your phone. Lottie’s always right—this is depressing.

A ding goes off and you're hoping it's just one of the girls confirming the schedule for today. Grabbing your phone, you hold it above you, the screen illuminating your face.

The notification reads:

Namjoon 8:30 AM

Hey. I came down with the stomach bug so I can't make it tonight, but don't worry, I'm sending the next best thing to replace me. I promise the bride and your girls will love him. He's a newbie but he's just as beefy if not more than me. Have fun tonight.

You turn the phone over and rub your hand over your face. Great, just my luck, you think.

Well, whoever this person is, you hope he’s worth what you’re paying for.

–

The Primrose restaurant is the perfect spot to finish off a weekend in Vegas. It’s bustling with groups similar to yours—probably other brides and bridesmaids celebrating a last hoorah before committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life. At this point it seems silly, doesn’t it? Being with someone, choosing them on a daily basis, loving them for all their faults, but who are you kidding? You’re a hopeless romantic now waiting for your charming prince.

Gwen and Ivy sit across from you and Lottie, whispering and pointing to their phone like two high school girls. You don’t doubt they’re plotting something. You just hope it doesn’t involve more naked men, minus the one you’ll see tonight. There are only so many ripped abs you can take.

“What are you two whispering about?” Lottie asks while narrowing her eyes. She holds her glass of mango mimosa, taking a sip.

“Nothing!” They both speak in tandem and Lottie makes a face at the two.

“No surprises,” you plead with your friends. “The rest of the day is already planned.”

“Don’t worry, babe! We’re not planning anything else,” Gwen reassures.

“It’s just that—” Ivy is cut off when Gwen jabs her in the ribs. “Ow!”

Gwen puts her phone down, hiding it under her thigh. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“But it does—kind of—” Ivy interjects. “Jimin and his wife—they’re pregnant.” She grabs Gwen’s phone, showing a photo of Jimin kissing his wife’s belly.

“Oh,” you say softly. “That’s great. I’m really happy for him.”

You hate to admit it, but it stings. He’s living the life you dreamed of with him. The big house, big cars, but someone else got the big ring. And now they’re starting a family? Everyone seems to be moving forward, but it feels like you’re at standstill. It’d be amazing to have a man plop in your lap, but life just doesn’t seem to be going your way.

Clearing your throat, “Should we get ready for the pool?”

—

It doesn’t matter how many times you tug down your swimsuit, it keeps riding up in all the wrong places. The white linen shorts and tie top aren’t doing you any favors either by being paper thin.

The pool is bustling with hoards of party-goers. They’re laughing, drinking, and having the time of their life. An ex-boyfriend’s current life shouldn’t be affecting yours—but it is. You wish you could let go, let loose, forget everything related to Park Jimin. You’d rather be consumed by anything, anyone other than him.

Lottie’s at the bar, ordering a round of drinks. Gwen and Ivy are grabbing the attention of four guys. And it’s the last night before returning to reality, so you should be having fun, flirting, and making a fool of yourself to someone whom you’ll never see again. That’s what Vegas is for, right?

As a maid of honor, you’re definitely not living up to the hype and you know Lottie’s disappointed expression like the back of your hand, and yet you can’t unbunch your panties that are in a twist. The effects of the morning mimosas have worn off, and maybe you need something stronger. Hell—even a gummy sounds tempting at this point. Anything to forget how miserable your love life is.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Lottie asks. You shake your head no, but she knows you. She sits down, taking your hands. “Look, I’m sorry about Jimin. It sucks that he got married even though he said he never wanted to—” You’re ready to interrupt but she stops you, placing her index finger on your lips.

“Bup-bup-bup. I know what you’re going to say, but don’t,” Lottie implores, pleading with her eyes. She knows how much you torment yourself with lowly thoughts.

You want to say that there’s definitely something wrong with you. Why else would Jimin say one thing to you about marriage and then do the complete opposite?

“You’re more than enough, so please don’t think otherwise. Don’t let this one guy determine the course of your future relationships. He’s not worth your time and energy.”

Tears began to well behind your eyes as she continued, “You deserve to have some fun. So please, can we enjoy this last night together before we have to go back to our real lives?” Lottie pouts along with puppy eyes.

Lottie’s always right and that’s what you love about her. You hate that you’ve been a poor sport this weekend when you’re supposed to be celebrating your friend and having fun. You’ve been busy moping over a man who is now married with a child on the way. It’s a pathetic way to spend your last night in Vegas.

You let out a deep breath, expelling all the bad energy you’ve harnessed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been the worst maid of honor, but have no fear!” A server brings over the drinks that Lottie ordered, you pick up your Paloma cocktail and an oversized margarita, handing it to the bride-to-be. “Let’s have the best night. Cheers!” you say, clinking your glass against hers.

—

Tequila is one of your worst enemies, but also the best way for you to loosen up your limbs and lips.

By the time the four of you arrive at the hotel room, you’re unsure if you can even pick up a paintbrush, let alone even get paint on a canvas.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry that you love me! Change my mind up like it’s origami!”

The trio of you, Ivy, and Gwen are linked arm in arm trying to fit through the door while singing at the top of your lungs.

“Ugh—I swear Tate McRae is my spirit animal,” you say, turning to Gwen. “You know, she just gets it. Always gets me in my sad girl hours and then has me dancing the next.”

“I’m a-I’m a-I’m a wild ride that never stops!” Ivy continues singing, letting go of the two of you while Lottie trails behind. Someone has to be the semi-sober one.

“Hey Ro—they’re bringing everything right?” Lottie asks you.

“Yeah, the guy will bring the supplies. There’s an area cleared out for him. I’m gonna freshen up then I’ll be out.”

“I’m ready for a man to bare it all and ask nothing of me in return,” Gwen comments, taking a seat on the couch.

You chuckle, shaking your head at your friend. Hopefully, it’ll be the last naked man you’ll see this weekend. But either way, you’re sure you’ll enjoy this last activity.

The powder puff pats against your skin, making dust fly everywhere. Taking a step back, you give yourself the once-over in the mirror, but not before swiping a red stain on your lips. You don’t want to look disheveled for this naked guest. Apparently, he’s the ‘next best thing’ next to Namjoon, and you saw Namjoon’s photo on the website. You’re curious to see this mystery man and how this evening will end up.

As the door is ajar, you can hear the girls talking amongst themselves along with giggles. Whoever this guy is, he must be living up to their standards.

You’re unsure what to expect, how everything will turn out. Is this model fully naked? Are they covered? Do you keep your art piece? How are you supposed to bring a canvas of a naked man on a plane without receiving a few stares? You definitely didn’t think this part through.

“Ro! Get your butt out here. We’re gonna start painting soon!” Gwen yells, making you sprint out the door and into a curious situation.

Four canvases on easels and paint palettes on stools surround the model. His back is turned to you and he’s already half-naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist. One arm is completely inked from the top of his shoulder to his wrist. When he turns around and your jaw drops, not because he’s built like a Greek god (well, yeah he is), but because you recognize the half-naked man.

“Jeon Jungkook?” 

“Ro?” His eyes light up and he secures his towel, tucking it in his waist. “What are you doing here?”

You step toward him and the girls. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Err—”

Lottie clears her throat, blinking at you and then Jungkook. “Um, excuse me. How do you two know each other?”

The pair of you give each other a look and chuckle before you answer. “Oh, we went to college together.”

“Just went to college together? Nothing more?” Ivy narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you’re lying.

“What? No! We’re just friends. I was with Jimin, remember?” A pathetic reminder of your past relationship and now non-existent one.

“Uh huh,” Lottie remarks, taking a stride to you, pulling you in. “I wanna hear all the details about that one later.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” you whisper. “We’re friends—nothing more.” Catching Jungkook’s gaze, you smile softly before taking your seat on the stool.

“Are you ladies ready?” Jungkook asks, ripping off his towel, only to reveal another small hand towel covering his crotch.

The girls are yelping and hollering. You can’t help but cover your eyes, giggling at the fact that you’ll be painting one of your friends—naked.

—

Jungkook’s surrounded by the four of you. His pose is simple, straight forward. Literally straight forward because he’s facing you, knees slightly bent as he’s sitting on the stool. Your eyes have caught his every now and again, but he's focused on something past you.

Every inch of him is chiseled like a statue right out of Ancient Greece. From his jawline, to his collarbone, to his sculpted chest and not one, two, three, four, but eight pack abs. How is it that some people are just born to look like a Greek god? You didn’t think God had favorites, but Jeon Jungkook definitely proves you wrong.

Studying Jungkook’s physique for the past hour has made you realize how intimate this feels. Although the pair of you were friends in school, this is the most time you’ve spent with him outside of it, and the most time you’ve spent just looking at him. He is definitely a pretty boy with a soft, sweet energy.

Your brows are knitted, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out how to paint his inked arm. It’s looking more and more like a glob than anything distinguishable. It’s when your eyes catch his and he’s doing that smile, the one where one side curves up, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to the large clock in the living area. “Okay, ladies. It looks like time is up. How did everyone’s painting turn out?” There are groans and grumbles coming from the four of you. Jungkook chuckles, “Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

He turns, fetching a robe behind him, slipping it on to cover himself. Jungkook takes it upon himself to check out everyone’s canvases, and you’re dreading the moment when he approaches yours.

You clutch it, holding it close to your body, and you have no intention of Jungkook ever seeing it.

He tilts his head, giving you a look. “Ro—it can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, it is!” You turn, hoping to somehow destroy it before leaving tomorrow morning. It’s not that Jungkook looks horrible—it’s that you’re a horrible painter. But your death grip isn’t as strong as he is. With a sigh, you hand it over to him.

Jungkook nods with a pout on his lips. “It’s…”

“Horrible—I know.”

“No, no. I’d say it has an abstract feeling to it. I like it.” He gives a bright smile, returning the canvas to you.

You give him a thin smile, knowing that he’s just saying it because it’s his job. “By the way, you’re really good at this gig, but are you still pursuing the whole modeling thing?”

“I’m still doing that. I just do this gig for fun on the weekends. I mean, I get to meet cool, and sometimes crazy people and the money isn’t bad either.”

“Alright, ladies and gentleman. Tequila, anyone?” Gwen suggests as she wiggles her eyebrows, holding up the bottle. No one answers which makes her frown. “Aw, come on!”

“I’m game. What about you Ro?” Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised, eyes practically pleading for you to say yes. “One for me?”

You know it’s never ‘just one’ with Jungkook. You’ve seen first hand what that one line does to people, but you take the risk. “Okay, Jeon—just one.”

Everyone else gives in, raising and clinking their glasses to toast the bachelorette. Expelled breaths come from everyone after knocking back the clear liquor.

“Round two?” Jungkook asks, extending his glass toward Gwen in which she happily obliges.

You smirk, shaking your head as you catch Jungkook’s gaze.

—

It didn’t take long until you were feeling euphoric from the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’re always on cloud nine when you drink Tequila.

Lottie called it quits after her fifth shot. Gwen and Ivy are also well on their way to sleeping like babies. But you and Jungkook? You both have caught a second wind of energy.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry!” you exclaim, rubbing your belly as it growls. Jungkook’s trying to hold in a laugh. With a gasp, you turn to him, slapping his back, which is firm to the touch. “Shut up! Drinking makes me hungry.”

“Okay then, let’s get some room service. What are you craving?” 

You tap your cheek with your index finger, combing through the many options. “Pizza. No—wait, chicken wings.” Jungkook closes his eyes and hums. “No, nope! I want a juicy, juicy hamburger…with…with…” Your brain is obviously short-circuiting.

“Fries?” Jungkook answers.

“Yes! Fries! And a milkshake!”

“We can do that. I’ll call it in.”

An hour has passed and you and Jungkook are sprawled out on the bed, bellies full and minds are swirling.

“Oh man, I haven’t done anything like this in such a long time,” you admit, turning over onto your belly. You lay your head in the crook of your arm, facing Jungkook.

“What? Eating?” he teases.

You giggle. “No—getting tipsy and I don’t know, just being free.”

“This is you being free?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I gotta get some more tequila in you then.” He proceeds to get up, but you pull him back.

“No, no, no. Trust me, this is good. I don’t wanna black-out.”

“Okay, how about some champagne then? Just to celebrate your last night here,” Jungkook suggests.

You know you’ll regret it, but you agree. “Just one bottle.” Besides you already paid for it, you wouldn’t want it to go to waste.

He sprints out of the bedroom to the bar area to grab a bottle and two glasses. You can’t help but notice how his biceps flex as he pours the two of you a glass.

“To—”

“Lottie,” you finish his sentence.

“To Lottie.” He clinks his glass with yours before chugging down his bubbly.

You stare blankly at the Greek god himself. “You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?”

His lips thin into a smile. “I’m not doing anything…”

“Mmhm.” You take a gulp of your glass. You’re sure that if Jungkook were to ask you to do something, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. He made being around him comfortable and you always felt at ease.

“So, what should we do now?”

Your lips turn into a pout, peering around the room before a lightbulb goes off. “Ah! I have just the thing.” You rush over to your luggage, rummaging through it. Turning around, you wave a box of double tipped markers.

Jungkook knits his brows together. “And what do you think you’re going to do with those?”

You giggle. “You’ll see!”

—

Your tongue is out, concentrating on the purple line connecting from one beauty mark to the next. You’ve forced Jungkook to lie on his belly as you’re hunched over, straddling his legs.

“Don’t move!”

He relaxes, letting you continue on. Capping the purple marker, you set it aside. You’re giggling, tracing the line across his back and you can feel him squirm under your touch.

“You finished or what?” He peers over his shoulder but you turn him away.

"Just need to add the finishing touches." Leaning forward, you press your lips to the first beauty mark on his mid back, leaving a lipstick stain. Then you move to the next one beneath his shoulder blade, and continue on. His skin is smooth and warm under your lips, and though it's faint, you think you hear a low groan from him.

You sit up, adjusting your position, staring at the artwork you’ve created on Jungkook’s back. “Done—with your back at least. Now onto your arms.”

—

Jungkook turns his head to see what you’re coloring, flexing his bicep, making you color outside the lines.

“Oh my god! You made me mess up!” You try wiping the color, but it doesn’t budge. “You did it on purpose.”

“I did not! Why do you need to color inside the lines anyway?” he asks before returning to his previous position, resting his head on his arm.

“Because…that’s the way you’re supposed to color.” Taking an orange marker, you continue shading in his cloud tattoo.

“You don’t always have to follow the rules,” he breathed, gazing up at you.

“I know…” you mumble. Your eyes flick to his then back to the tattoo. You hate when things are not in your control. There were a handful of moments in your life when shit hit the fan and chaos ensued—Jimin being one of them.

You clear your throat, grabbing a yellow marker to color in a gradient effect. “And are you the type to not follow the rules?”

Jungkook chuckles, “I guess we don’t know each other well huh?”

“Well, I was practically glued to Jimin when we were in school.”

“What happened with you guys anyway? I thought you guys were like soulmates or something.”

“We just wanted different things,” you mumble, not wanting to elaborate. “What about you, hmm? Being a model in LA and Vegas? I’m sure you have women wanting to crawl into bed all the time.”

His gaze catches yours. “Exhibit A.”

You scoff. “Hey! We’re friends—that’s the only reason why you’re in my bed.”

“Uh huh. I saw the way you were eyeing me during the painting session. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it,” Jungkook teases, making you stop coloring, and pinch his underarm. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, just kidding!” He moves away, but you pull him back.

“Hey! I’m almost done coloring,” you say, gripping tighter onto his arm.

“That’s not fair. Only you get to color me?”

You sigh, tilting your head. “I’ll let you draw one thing on me.”

“Can I pick the location of where to draw it?”

“As long as it’s not my tits or ass.”

Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh. “Alright, how about your—”

Your hand flies to cover his mouth, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “Jeon Jungkook! That’s a hard no!”

“You practically saw my junk and I can’t see yours?”

“Well, I paid for it.”

“I can pay you too.”

You gasp. “You can’t just buy me.”

“Fine. Give me a few options and I’ll choose the placement.”

It would be easy to choose a place more visible, but you’re feeling frisky. “My hip or my back.”

Jungkook lips his licks, eyes flicking to your hips then back up at you. “And I can draw anything I want?”

You hum with a nervous tremble. You’re sure he wouldn’t draw anything ridiculous. “I trust you.”

“‘Kay then, turn over on your belly. Top off.”

Sitting up, facing Jungkook, your hands fall to the first button on your linen vest. Your eyes never leave his as you continue to unfasten the rest, then you toss it aside, revealing a blush pink see-through bra with floral detailing. Jungkook is trying his best to not let his eyes wander lower and you’re trying to do the same. Yes, you’ve stared at his half-naked body for an hour tonight, but you didn’t have the chance to explore it up close.

“Is this okay?” You know it is, but you’d like confirmation.

“Mmm.” He gestures for you to lie down, and you do as he asks.

Jungkook reaches for a black marker, the tip is thinner than the others. He shifts his position a few times before lying comfortably next to you. The warmth from his body radiates, heating up against your skin. You lie on top of your crossed arms, facing him, wondering what he’s planning to draw. Maybe some flowers or stars.

His brows are knitted as he’s concentrated on where to begin. He starts on the middle of your back, drawing circular shapes from what you can tell. The tip of the marker grazes back and forth, and his hand and fingers emanate a gentle touch upon your skin.

He’s quite handsome, you think. Even the scar etched on his cheek has a certain beauty, and his nose must be a butterflies favorite place to land on.

“Is it okay if I unhook this?”

“Hmm?”

“Your um,” he clears his throat. “Your bra.”

You’ve been too focused on Jungkook’s face, you hadn’t realized he was halfway down your back. “Yeah, um, go for it.”

He unhooks your bra in one fell swoop and the sides of your bra fall to the side. Continuing with his design, he concentrates on the smallest details going down your spine. Your eyes flutter shut as his warm breath softly fans the wet ink on your skin.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asks, trying to make conversation, realizing he doesn’t know you well, besides when you were with Jimin.

“Single as can be. What about you? A girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Situationship?”

Jungkook laughs. “What kind of life do you think I lead here, hm? That’s a lot of assumptions about me.”

“I don’t know. I just assume that someone that looks like you would have someone is all.”

“Well, I’m also single, and I’m a more monogamous kinda guy.”

“You are?” you question with a dramatic gasp. “That comes as a nice surprise. Maybe we should go get married tonight in a chapel,” you joke.

“With a few more drinks in me, I’m sure I’d say yes to anything.”

“Stop—don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious. I’m ready to meet someone and do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but a lot of the people I meet just want sex.”

“I’m sorry, did I just meet a guy who doesn’t want sex?”

Jungkook deadpans. “I didn’t say I don’t want sex. I do—I just wanna be a romantic and spoil someone.”

“Oh, well, you can always wine and dine me. I won’t object,” you tease.

As Jungkook continues drawing, the pads of his fingers create a light buzz of electricity, from one end to the other. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing from his soft touch. You almost let out a low moan but catch yourself when he gets to a ticklish spot near your ribs.

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think the right person will come along for you?”

A beat passes before he answers. “Yeah, I think so. Whoever they are, I just know that I'm probably not ready to meet them yet, but the right time will come.”

“But what if the right person came at the wrong time?”

“Or…you were the right person in the wrong place,” he suggests. “Are you talking about Jimin?”

“Yeah, I've been trying to avoid talking about him. He recently got married and his wife is pregnant too.”

“Ah, don't tell me you're feeling shitty? ‘Cause you shouldn't.”

A sad chuckle leaves your lips. “I'm pretty sure I fumbled it.”

Jungkook stops drawing on your back, softly calling your name, in which you hesitate to look at him for fear of bursting into tears.

“Hey…you didn't fumble anything. Pretty sure it's Jimin’s loss.”

“You're sweet, Kook. Thanks.”

Jungkook continues on his quest to finish his drawing.

“Is it almost finished?” you ask, clearing your throat. The tequila and champagne are starting to wear off and tomorrow’s reality is beginning to settle in. Tonight feels like a dream and you don’t want to wake up.

He hums. “Almost. Just a few more details then we’ll be good to go.” Short strokes lightly mark across your back and he doesn’t break his concentration. He continues for a few minutes before closing the cap. “Done. Wanna see?”

“I’m not gonna lie. I’m low-key scared to see what it is.”

Jungkook straightens his posture then reaches for his phone. “You have nothing to be scared of. It’s pretty. I promise.” He takes a photo, showing it to you.

Though the drawing session didn’t feel long, you could see the intricate detailing he went into drawing the moon phases down your back.

Sitting up then turning away from Jungkook, you use your arm to cover your breasts and secure your bra. “Are you always good at everything?” you ask, standing and walking over to the dresser, you pull out an oversized shirt, slipping it on, then you grab the tequila bottle and two shot glasses. There’s just enough to end the night.

Jungkook shifts to the edge of the bed, legs spread, and you slot yourself right in between. “Nah, I’m not good at everything.”

“Oh yeah? What are you not good at?” you ask, making him hold a glass while you pour his then yours.

He chuckles, looking away, then back up at you. “For starters, I’m not good at flirting.”

“You’re lying.” Your eyes lock in on his as you set the empty bottle down on the floor.

“I’m not.”

“Okay, practice on me then,” you say, trying to persuade him.

“A bit of liquid courage might help.”

You raise your glass and clink it against his. “Bottoms up.” The both of you wince as you knock them back, tossing the glasses on the carpeted flooring.

“Better?” you inquire, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the hair along the nape of his neck. Jungkook’s fingers delicately trace up and down your thighs, sending tingles across every inch of skin. His eyes are so starry, you’ll gladly get lost in them.

“You’re pretty.”

“Could say the same about you,” you giggle, twirling his hair in your fingers. “You’re right.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, reveling at your touch against his skin. “Mm, about what?”

“That you’re bad at flirting.” Your eyes linger on his lips, wondering what they taste like and how much you’d like to kiss the chocolate chip mole right underneath his bottom lip.

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at his feet then back at you. “Told you,” he says as he pulls away, propping himself up on the bed. He scans you from head to toe, loving the fact that you’re in between his legs. Hasn't seen you in years, but he’s intrigued.

Letting out a yawn, you cover your mouth then apologize.

“Damn, didn’t think my non-flirting would put you to sleep.”

You laugh. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be an even longer one tomorrow.”

“Right, I should head out too.” Jungkook shifts, scooting to the edge of the bed but you don’t budge.

“Do you wanna stay? Since it’s pretty late already.” Nearly 3 AM and you know you’ll regret this but right now, you’ll indulge in whatever’s left of this trip.

Jungkook’s silent for a moment before answering, “Sure. I’ll stay.”

You crawl over him, slipping under the covers that have been calling your name for the past few hours. The plush, fluffy pillows are like a cloud as you lay your head down. Jungkook follows your lead, doing the same, facing you. His fringe gently falls, covering his eyes, and you find yourself moving them out of his face.

“You’re cute,” you whisper, letting your finger trace his cheeks to his jawline.

“I don’t really like being cute,” he hums.

“Well, that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?” You inch closer to him, and can feel the warmth radiating off his body. It feels nice to be in close proximity to another human being again. And you like that there are no expectations. You can just be with Jungkook. The two of you run in the same circle of friends, and he makes you feel safe—like if anything were to happen to you tonight, he’d take care of you.

Your eyes flick to his lips, lingering longer than expected, and your cheeks are warming up, ridding the last bit of alcohol coursing through your veins.

Jungkook moves in, closing the distance. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, lips ghosting each other in a delicate dance before finally meeting in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into each other. Hearts beating in perfect harmony, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

With your breaths mingled, it creates a cocoon of intimacy as you savor the softness of each other's lips. Your fingers entwined in his hair, drawing him closer, bodies pressed together in a silent declaration of desire.

The last leg of this trip was fate trying to make you forget about your worries, and Jungkook was the perfect color to paint over your monochrome palette. 

There’s a longing deep inside you wanting to escape, and as much as you want to release it, you’d rather have him when you’re sober and in the right mindframe.

“Ro…” Jungkook moans as he pulls away, your hands splayed on his taut chest, forehead resting against his.

“Yeah?” you reply, leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t want you like this,” he says, taking you by surprise, almost like he could read your mind.

Letting out a chuckle, you answer, “No—yeah, makes sense.”

“It’s not that ‘I don’t want you’, I do! I just—don’t want this to turn out like other flings I’ve had in the past because I don’t consider you ‘a fling’ or someone to just toss the next day because we’re friends and I would never do that to—“

You interrupt him with a peck on his lips. “Jungkook. I understand. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun tonight and that’s all thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“No, you did! You helped me loosen up.”

“I’m sure it was just the champagne and tequila doing all the work.”

“They helped, but it was mostly you.” You smile, letting a beat pass before speaking again. “Should we try to get some sleep?”

He hums, leaning in for a kiss, in which you willingly give. You tug on his silver chain, asking for a few more kisses before letting him go.

Not even three minutes in and Jungkook is already snoring. His chest rising and falling, rumbling like a mountain. It’s cute, you think. Could get used to listening to this, almost like white noise.

You admire how Jungkook lives his life without worries, letting the wind guide him. It might not happen right away, but maybe when you return to reality, you should consider not always staying within the lines. That it’s okay to go out of bounds and live a little. Life shouldn’t be so serious all the time.

—

There’s a light sound of pitter patter sweeping across the floor with shushed ‘Ows’ and ‘shut up’. You weakly open your eyes to see what the commotion is. Your body wants to get up, but the pounding migraine is saying otherwise.

A loud thump makes you blink your eyes open and pop your head up. There’s furniture knocked over, tequila and champagne bottles are scattered everywhere, along with clothes and money.

The low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover yourself with the duvet. They’re facing away and you can’t make out who this mystery person is. You peer over to find a man covered in tattoos, and it looks like a child tried to color inside the tattoo lines but failed miserably.

He mumbles gibberish under his breath and turns over onto his stomach. Great, now you can’t even get a good look at him, you think.

His silver necklace glimmers from the sun peeking through the blinds. And holy shit—his shoulders?

Broad.

Chiseled.

For all you know, he could be some kind of athlete. Then you notice the purple lines on his back, and no—they aren’t scratches from nails, the lines connect from one beauty mark to the next across his back. It’s like one of those connect the dot pictures, except the finished drawing wasn’t anything recognizable. But surrounding each beauty mark is a pair of red lips, and as you look down at your hands, you find that you’re the culprit who must’ve drawn on this man.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

Another groan escapes the man’s lips and he turns over again. You pull up your side of the duvet, further covering yourself, and the smallest gasp comes out. It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook, an old college buddy.

The duvet is pulled down, covering his bottom half, revealing his taut chest and not one, two, three, four—but an eight pack set of abs. Is it humanly possible to even have more than six?

How did he end up in Vegas? And specifically in your room?

“Jungkook?” you whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm…”

You move closer, feeling the warmth from his body. “Jungkook, it’s time to get up.”

Still half asleep, he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “Just five more minutes, Ro,” he says, nuzzling into you.

“Jeon Jungkook! What are you doing?”

He chuckles, smiling, finally peeking his eyes open. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

“I…remember things…” you say, lying through your teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook moves into a sitting position, turning to you. “So you know we got married, right?”

Your jaw drops and eyes widen. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re lying.”

“You’re the one who suggested it!”

How could you let yourself get married in Las Vegas? And at your best friend’s bachelorette party? It’s not like you’re trying to steal her thunder, quite the opposite, really. This was supposed to be about her, not you. Fuck—Lottie’s going to hate you, isn’t she?

Jungkook quietly watches you freak out. Wonders how long he can let this continue before telling the truth. He thinks you’re cute when you’re all flustered.

“No, we can't be married! I don't even know you and how would this even work? We live like 3000 miles away from each other? And would you move to New York? Or would I move to LA? What if your family doesn't like me? Your friends even? Wait–do you even like me? Oh–Jungkook, how did we let this happen?” you ask, burying your hands in your face.

Question after question runs through your mind and Jungkook is sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“Why aren't you freaking out?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles, leaning over toward you. “You're really cute, you know that?” he says.

Your eyes follow his finger as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, it's time to get down to the important things. “Kook–please! This isn't the time to tell me I'm cute. We have bigger things to worry about. We're married!”

He sucks in his lips, trying to hold in a laugh.

You knit your brows and narrow your eyes. “Unless…we’re not married…”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh, his finger gently caresses your cheek. “Maybe one day, pretty girl. If we ever get to that stage of course.”

A smack against his arm reverberates throughout the room. “Aye! I'm gonna kill you. You really had me worried.”

He rubs the ruby red spot that's imprinted on his arm. “Why? Because marrying me would've been horrible?”

No, you think, quite the opposite.

“Of course not. It's just, we don't know each other and I wouldn't want you to feel trapped in a marriage,” you explain.

You'd at least wanna go on a real date and get to know him before strapping him down forever.

He nods in agreement. “Well, I had fun last night. Hence all the things I let you do to me.” Jungkook points out the badly colored arm and connect-the-dots on his back.

“Oh, I'm so sorry about that.”

“I'm not. I'm glad you had fun even though you don't remember it.”

“Please tell me I didn't act like an idiot.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, you're fine, but uh, I should get going since you have a flight to catch.”

“Oh, shit. My flight.” You reach over to find your phone. It's already 9 AM, and thankfully the airport isn't far away and TSA Pre-check has been a lifesaver.

With another glance, you see your clothes and Jungkook's scattered on the ground. He reaches to grab his shirt and sweats.

“I, um, I was pretty bold last night. Wasn't I?” you were referring to the pair of lips covering his back.

Jungkook snickers. “Yeah, just a bit, but I didn't mind it at all,” he says, slipping his shirt on. He stands, putting his sweats on and you can't help but stare at his peachy ass in his black Calvin Klein–the tight kind. “Do you remember anything else from last night?”

Your mind thinks back to the whirlwind of last night. There was definitely alcohol involved because you only act with confidence under the influence of Tequila.

But a recollection of soft lips and entangled hair between your fingers flutter back into the present just for a fleeting moment.

You shake your head, wanting to keep this memory to yourself.

Jungkook's lips thin into a smile as he ruffles his bed head hair. “Call me next time you're in town?”

You stand to meet him. “Or you can call me when you're in the Big Apple,” you reply, handing him your phone.

He dials your number, so you can have his. “Mm, looks like that confidence hasn't left yet.”

“Mm, I have a smidge of it left.”

“Yeah?” He draws closer, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah,” you whisper, taking in his warmth and scent.

Last night was hazy but bits and pieces are coming back. You're not sure if a lot of these moments with Jungkook are real or just a dream. You'd like to hope he enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him.

“It was really good to see you, Kook.”

“Good to see you too, Ro. Don't be a stranger, okay?” He turns on his heel to open the bedroom door, but turns around to say one last thing. “Oh, and don't worry too much about the right person. Who knows, maybe you’ve met them already.”

You wonder if he's referring to himself. You have to admit, he's been making you smile and laugh more than usual, even making you blush.

“Mm, I'll keep that in mind.”

He flashes a smile, opening the door.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, turning to you again.

You reach up to kiss him on the cheek. “What happened in Vegas, can it not stay in Vegas?”

[chaosandmarigolds]

Before we begin. I would like to remind you all that Caleb is a fictional character, he cannot be hurt- but so is Simon Riley so do with that information what you will :)

“Garrick.”

Johnny clears his throat before speaking, the commotion of the station loud through the phone, “Ya n the missus still in th’ country?”

To that Kyle frowned, moving carry on bag to sit down on the chair, “We’re just gettin back from Las Vegas, Becca got-“

“Ollie is gone.”

well. That sent a shock through his system, with a quick straighten of the posture Kyle speaks again, “An’ Simon doesn’t-“

“Some bullshit happenin’ makin it look like he helped his girl with kidnappin em from da dad, dad’s takin em …”a breath, “Si doesn’t know Ollie is gone yet. He’s been in questionin for five hours kno.”

Kyle looks down at his boots for a moment, meanwhile his wife gives him a confused stare, “Jesus- fuck, you need me?”

“I dunnae ye. Probably, ya got a ETA?”

Kyle shrugged and then looks at Rebecca, who had her luggage stolen so they were waiting on the security to do their work. “Si’s kid is missin.”

She stares up at him in disbelief for a moment, “How?”

“Bio-dad bullshit.” Kyle puts the phone to his ear again, “Hows Cap holding up?”

“Pissed off. But we all are.”

“Ya seen LT yet?”

“Nah, got her’ two hours go.”

-

If he were being honest, he wanted to simply take the gun and shoot the detective- it would finally make that man shut his mouth. However, Simon was showing self restraint, yet that task grew harder with each moment. So as he sat in the empty room, he was mainly focusing on keeping his breathing even, and temper in check.

About ten minutes went by before someone came to let him go, and to no one surprise Price was behind the door with the officer.

“I need you to be-“

“Where’s Ollie? Where is she?”

Price tried to keep his expression neutral, “Caleb had temporary rights-“

“The fuck does that mean? Where is MY SON?” Okay, so temper wasn’t in check but he was doing his best.

“He’s going to Las Vegas.”

—

Rebecca sipped her coffee as she sat in the airport lounge, after talking the security and as Kyle gave out the description of the small boy. She was currently going through Caleb’s social media, as someone had gone through a lot of trouble to edit photos where Simon had been in and replace them with himself, somehow editing the timestamps as well. Which was funny, because normally she was the phone taking the family photos.

With a frown she turns her phone over and looks around the bustling airport.

That’s when she spots Caleb. Hoodie pulled up to cover his face and quickly walking through the terminals.

Some part of her knew she needed to tell Kyle, and to not rush after him. And she knew he probably could’ve over powered her/ but it was so easy to just use that book she had grabbed as she went after him to take him down.

He probably could’ve thrown her off but instead he let her pin him down, panicked eyes and heaved breathing. “I swear! I didn’t- it wasn’t my idea! They-I owed the em money! I had to!”

“Where is Oliver?”

“They had me hand him off-off to some lady! I don’t know! Russian, tall, I don’t know!”

Rebecca looks down at him, her heart beginning to race as the security began to come over and to grab them, and she slowly turned as Kyle pulls her away. “I don’t…I don’t think is about Ollie. I don’t think this is about him at all.”

-

Ollie stares at the ground of the small plane, having a cup of water and a little baggie of goldfish in front of him. His eyes red with tears.

“Oh, come now little man, eat up. Get strong.” The woman coax’s, her voice muffled by the accent but her smile sweet, “Your father does not want to see you hurt.”

“I wanna go home.”

“I know. But you cannot go right now, your father- he owes us a debt.”

—-

Tee…tee hee 🤍🤍

(Am I getting carried away? Yes obviously. But I am having too much fun to stop)

[kaciebello]

No need for mail

Masterlist Badger express ★ Lorenzo Berkshire x Hufflepuff! reader (fem) Summary: While doing a school project, Lorenzo tries his luck. With the help of the wind and the sun, he falls harder and harder.  Warnings: no use of y/n,  Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) And just so you know, it always has been him. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ( and yes I know he's a slut, not here tho, maybe next time.) word count: 1.1k Song: Married In Vegas - The Vamps

Light breeze messes with his hair. He does not care as much as his attention is on the mooncalf nest that rests below the cliff. The girl next to him is doing the same. Her hair is held together in a braid with a yellow ribbon wrapped into it. They are both lying down at the edge of the cliff, one wrong move and they would be rolling down. He turns his face to her.

“Why are we doing this?” He whispers, yes whispered as he has already been scolded once for speaking at his normal volume. Apparently, it would scare the weird animal away and that is not what they want.

“It's a school project, I told you that.” She says, her gaze not moving away from the big-eyed cows.

“I don't think Hagrid would care if we pulled everything out of a book.” He argues back but knows there is no way out of this. He's finally being let in on a Hufflepuff sacred. No wonder they always get the best marks in ‘care for magical beasts’. They simply just vibe with them. The girl just shook her head at him.

The girl scooted a little bit more over the edge. Lorenzo's hand flew over to her and grabbed the back of her shirt. For a witch, she does not have even an ounce of self-preservation in her body.  A small rock fell from their shuffling and landed near the nest. Scaring all the mooncalf, making them run and hide.

“look what you did!” the girl says and, with the help of Lorenzo, sits up.

“Me? I'm not the one trying to throw myself off the cliff!” he says, now too, sitting.

The girl scoffs and gets up to make her way over to the blanket where they set their stuff. He makes his way to her and sits down right next to her. Their knees touching. They both pulled out their notebook, he wrote down his observations and she finished her sketch of the animal.

Silence falls upon them as they both do their own thing. Lorenzo's eyes shift to see her sketch, only to see a familiar face. He does not know if he should call her out or not. But since he considered himself her best friend, a fact she constantly denies, he decided to do the first option.

“AYO, is that me!” Startled, the girl closes the notebook so fast it makes a thud so loud that he's certain the mooncalf all hid again. He tried to take the notebook from her, but she threw it on the other side of the blanket. She restraints one of his hands and the other one lands by her back.

When Lorenzo noticed how close they were, a smile crept on his face.  She noticed too, as his legs curled a little. She turns her body to face him more and places her other hand near his, probably so she can quickly grab it if he tries something.

He noticed her eyes were scanning his face. A breeze messes with his hair again. The girl blinks and lets his arm go, going to fix it for him. He places his, now free, arm on her thighs, squeezing them to make sure his arm lands where he wants it to without actually looking.

The two friends stay silent. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable one they always seem to find themself when they are together. 

“You're so pretty, I wish I could get you pregnant.” She breaks the silence. Lorenco can do nothing but chuckle. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His arms now sneaking around her waist. Pulling her closer to his body.

“Ditto” He murmurs. He can feel her shake with laughter. She was now playing with his hair, something he could let her do all day if he could.  That's why he peels himself off of her. She just looked at him confused. Lorenzo just shakes his head and moves a little, before ploping his head down on her lap. He makes sure to grab her arms and slam it on his head for good measure.

She looks at him with a shocked expression before sighing. Nonetheless, she does what he wishes for and plays with his hair. He flashes her a smile full of pearly whites. 

“You're annoying.” She says looking down at him. he pokes her side making her squirm a bit.

“But you still love me.” he sings back to her. She does not answer to him. They fall into silence again. The girl is not looking at him. Something in the distance caught her attention. He did not mind, as if she were to look down on him, she would see a fool in love.

A sun framed her head and made it look like a halo. He was smitten.

“So you know how you just wanna be friends?” He says making her give him attention. Looking down at him her arm came to a stop.

“Yeah?”

“That's cool and all, but I'm like in love with you.” 

“Same” The girl just breaths out. Lorenzo did not expect her to say that. In a second he has decided he is not letting her change her mind.

He shoots up and cages her with one of his arms while the other one goes to her neck and pulls her closer. He does not give her a chance to register what is going on.

Their lips met, softly than someone would expect with how fast Lorenzo was with his moves. She took a few seconds before kissing him back, her arms cradling his face.

The kiss was sweet and slow, a fairytale-like.

Soon they ran out of breath, the girl gently pushing Lorenzo away as he tried to chase her into another kiss. Still, with closed eyes, he lends his forehead to hers.

“That was-” A low whistle cuts him off. Cursing under his breath, Lorenzo opened his eyes and straightened out. there stood four of his friends. A whine leaves him.

“AYO I DID NOT KNOW YOU HAVE A GAME LIKE THAT.” Draco makes sure that he can be heard all the way back to Hogwarts. Multiple praises and hollers sound on the little cliff they found themself on.

All the boys make their way to Lorenzo, lifting him up and repeatedly tossing him in the air. All he could do was catch a glimpse of the girl with a yellow ribbon in her hair laughing. Not even noticing the love note falling out of his pocket and getting lost in the wind.

tag list: @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff , @deluluassapocalypse

[specialagentlokitty]

Rick Grimes x reader - so perfect

Hello👋👋 Rick fluff where he comes home and just sees reader hanging out with the kids. And he just stops and watches them, thinking how lucky he is to have her. Please and thank you. Love your work btw❤❤❤. - @hoodiepandaninja16 💜

Holding Judith in your arms, you looked at Carl as he threw a tennis ball against the side of the house, catching it in his hand to throw it again.

“Carl?”

He looked over, stopping what he was doing.

“If you keep throwing that at all wall, you’re gonna break a hole in it eventually.”

He chuckled a little, looking at the tennis ball.

“Sorry, guess I got lost thinking.”

“Hey, not me you need to be sorry too, that poor house has been getting beat on for at least an hour.”

He laughed again, walking over to you, letting you place a hand on his head, and he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You asked quietly.

He sighed a little bit, offering you nothing more than just a shrug.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just thinking about a lot of stuff you know? Sometimes it’s hard not to when it’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah.”

You nodded, letting him move away from you and over to the front of the house where he sat down, so you did the same.

Placing Judith on the porch next to you, and Carl handed her his tennis ball.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do you know I’ll listen.”

“Thanks (Y/N).”

You smiled at him, and you leant back on your hands, looking at the skies that were threatening to downpour at any moment.

It was still sunny, but the clouds were rolling in quickly, and given the thunder that was in the distance it would be here soon.

“Do you think dad will make it back before the storm hits?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“You really don’t lie don’t you? Could’ve at least tried to lie for me.” Carl mocked.

You laughed a little, grinning down at him.

“Nope, what’s the point. The truth will come out eventually, whether you want it to or not, by lying your just wasting your own time.”

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Carl nodded his head, he believed you.

Judith rolled the ball and you caught it before it went down the steps, rolled it gently back over to you and she giggled.

She pushed it back, so you once again pushed it back.

“Can you go through my bag and find my deck of cards?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?” Carl asked back.

“We’re gonna be stuck inside soon, May as well find some way to pass the time.”

You did try to keep them outside for as long as possible, but when it started to rain you decided to bring them inside.

Carl was insistent that he wanted to wait by the gate, but you wouldn’t let him.

So, you all sat on the floor of the living room, music coming from the stereo that you had put on.

Judith sat in your lap, and you tried teaching Carl how to play poker.

“Seriously, how is this in any way helpful?”

“It’s not, it’s just fun as hell.”

He grinned a little at you.

“Dad’s gonna hate you trying to teach me this, you know that right?”

“I could teach you how to throw them.”

“Like throwing stars?”

You nodded and he immediately sat up.

“Hell yes.”

“Hey, language. I’m an adult you’re not, your dad will kick my ass if he finds out.”

“Our secret?” Carl grinned.

You hummed, thinking for a moment as you studied with narrowed eyes.

“I used to cheat at poker in Las Vegas and was was banned from returning.”

“What?”

“You tell your dad that I’ll tell him you swear when he’s not around.”

You held your hand out and Carl grinned, shaking your hand.

“Deal.”

You let go, and you picked up one of the play cards, looking at the apple you had set on the table not long before.

Aiming, you threw the card, it curved a little in the air but lodged itself into the apple.

“Holy shit…”

“Hey! Just because I said I wouldn’t tell doesn’t mean you can keep doing it!”

“Show me again.”

While Judith slept on the couch you taught Carl some of the tricks of the trade you had learnt over time.

Carl was pretty quick with picking some of them up, others not so much, but the card throwing was his new favourite.

You had ran out of apples to throw them at, so you went to throwing them into his hat instead.

“Where did you learn this?”

“I spent a lot of time in Vegas kid, you pick up a lot of things in a place like that.”

“Did you have a gambling problem or something?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, I was a professional gambler. Well, fraudster I guess, we worked as a team, taking casinos for all they were worth, using all the tricks, same with street hustling.”

“So, just a petty criminal then.”

“Ouch, petty? I’ll have you know I was wanted in over half the states for this shit.”

“And… you’re with my dad, who’s a cop?”

“Yeah that crap doesn’t matter now, what’s he gonna do, arrest me?”

“Yeah you’ve got a point.”

You handed him a couple more cards, looking to Edith as she moved.

Getting up, you held your arms out to her and picked her up, holding her in one arm as you slapped the card Carl threw back at him.

“I’m going to feed her, you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.”

You guys made dinner, setting a plate aside for Rick, just in case he came back that night.

While Carl spent time with his sister you washed up and made your way back inside to see him dancing around the living room with her.

“You call that dancing?”

You laughed a little, and you swept Judith into your arms.

“First, it’s always gentlemanly to bow.”

You did a small bow, and he did the same thing, and then you held your palm out to him.

“Put your palm on mine.”

He did, and you began teaching him the steps to a simple dance you had learned a long time ago.

Because of the thunder, you didn’t hear the door opening, and Rick stood against doorway, crossing his arms as he watched the tree of you.

Judith was giggling each time you turned around.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I actually did drama when I was your age? Specialised in Shakespeare.”

“So… like a million years ago?”

“Ouch, okay, you know what Carl Grimes, I thought we were friends, but we’re not.”

He laughed, and you heard a laugh from behind you.

Both of you turned over and he walked over to his dad.

You walked over, handing Rick his daughter back and you smiled at him, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Food ready for you, just need to heat it up.”

“Thanks, I’ll get her to bed then I will.”

“I’ll heat it, you do what you have to do.” You smiled.

Rick went upstairs with Carl, and you went into the kitchen to heat up his dinner for him.

While he was up there he grabbed a shower, changing into some fresh clothes while you were setting his plate on the table.

He came back downstairs, and you were cleaning the kitchen, humming a little to yourself.

He sat down, his chin resting on his hand as he just watched you.

This whole time since the prison you had been with him, you had helped him, supported him, never questioning any of the choices he made.

You had complete faith in him, and here you were, looking after his children for him even though you didn’t have too.

After everything he had done, Rick wasn’t sure how he still had somebody like you.

He had no clue what he did to even deserve somebody like you.

Yet here you were, standing right in front of him, as if the whole world was perfect, and in that moment he could have sworn it was.

“Teach me that dance.”

You turned around, looking at him, then the food he hadn’t touched.

“Eat, then asked again.”

He chuckled, quickly eating his dinner, washing up after himself and he walked into the living room where you were sat.

“Now will you teach me the dance?”

You smiled, getting up.

“First, the gentleman thing to do is bow.”

You bowed, snd he copied you.

You held up your hand, and he placed his palm over yours.

Whatever move you made he did the same thing, his eyes locked with yours as you both slowly danced.

This was it, this was perfect, his eyes focused on yours, everything else seeming nothing but background noise.

Rick slowly moved his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and he smiled softly, warm eyes focused on yours.

He held a nervous breath as he watched you, and you smiled softly back, copying him

[yeollie-plz]

Rom-Com

Charles Leclerc x GN! Reader

Synopsis: You just wanted to buy some merch, you didn’t realize you’d return with a man too.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: kissing, tbh I don’t think anything else it’s too fluffy

Gif credits to owners!

A/N: So this literally came to me in a dream and I just had to write it! Ik the concept is a bit shaky but tbh I didn’t get much detail from dream me so!

Arriving in Las Vegas, you were over the moon to see the GP that was being held there this weekend. It was your first time ever getting to go to one in person and to say you were excited would be an understatement.

When your friend first suggested the idea, you never thought you’d be able to swing it. But, here you were landing in Sin City!

Then your friend suggested to go to the secret pop-up shop that she had saw online. It seemed just a bit sus but hey you wanted some exclusive merch. So you agreed.

The shop was cute, they had merch you had never seen before! As you looked through the various items, you couldn’t help but notice a crowd drawing towards a certain corner of the shop.

The shop was small, only letting a few people in at a time, so for them all to be so close together. Something had to be going on.

Curiosity got the best of you as you let your body ease towards the crowd. Whispers getting louder as you got closer. Hearing words of ‘a driver being here’.

You rose to your tippy toes, trying to get a glimpse of anything. As your neck craned you saw a head of brown hair, right as a camera flashed. You lost your balance, letting yourself recenter when you landed on the ground. Was there really a driver here?

As you moved around the outer ring of the circle, you tried to get any view that you could. Long since losing your friend, you decided you might as well just push forward. As nicely as you could, you wiggled your way through the crowd trying to decipher all the commotion.

That’s when you saw him. In all his glory. Charles Leclerc.

It couldn’t be! The Charles Leclerc was in a random pop-up shop, down a random alley in Las Vegas? It was like something from a meet-cute in a romantic comedy. No! It was like an event from a fanfiction!

And just like how the fanfiction would play out, you waited for your turn to acknowledge the boy and when he finally locked eyes with you, sparks. You stumbled over your words a bit, trying to find the right way to extend your appreciation for him.

He laughed lightly as you tried to find your words. He gestured to the couch that lined the wall, willing you to sit and as you did the camera flash went off again. It seemed to snap you into reality, remembering that this was just a PR thing. Some fan service that he was doing.

You let the pictures be taken, smiling as brightly as you could with your nerves the way they were. That’s when on his own accord, Charles closed the distance between the two of you on the couch and threw his arm over your shoulder.

Your smile instantly dropped, a look of shock replaced it. The last camera flash went off, leaving white lights in your eyes.

The arm that was around your shoulders helped to gesture you to stand. You stood and whispered a thank you before scurrying off.

As you meandered around the store, trying to find your friend, you found yourself glancing back to the area Charles was at. Each time his eyes met yours, something flashing behind them. It was almost inviting.

You turned a corner finally finding your friend. As you scolded her for wandering off without you, a voice sounded behind you.

“So what do you think, do you think if I wrapped this enough it would make it home in one piece?”

You turned to see Charles standing there holding up a snow globe. His head was tilted in question, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I-um I think with enough it would be fine, sure.” You confirmed.

“What did you pick out?” He gestured to the shirt you were clutching, you hadn’t realized how firmly until he pointed it out. Walking closer to you he grabbed the shirt from your now limp hands and held it up, considering it.

“Nice choice. Although you should’ve went with Ferrari red. It would look good on you.” He said with a smile, slipping the shirt back in your hands and leaving you two alone without a word.

“First of all, was that Charles Leclerc? Second of all, was Charles Leclerc just flirting with you?” Your friend asked in shock. She grabbed your shoulders as if shaking you would loosen some answers from you.

“Yes it was and no he wasn’t.” Brushing her hands off you as you spoke.

“Then what’s this?” She grabs a piece of paper that had somehow made it into your hands, bunched with the shirt. “His number!” She confirms after looking at it.

She holds it out for you to see before whisking it away and running through the store. You chase closely after her. Not only are you trying to catch her, but the number of the super hot F1 driver.

Finally you do and you snatch the number from her death grip. Glancing down you see it truly is Charles Leclerc’s number. Your eyes go wide.

“So are you going to text him?” She asks, hand on her hip.

“Is that even a question?”

It’s almost three months later when you see Charles Leclerc again. The two of you have been texting almost nonstop in that time. You could feel yourself slowly falling for him. You just hoped he felt the same way.

When he said was coming to visit New York and would like to see you, you were overjoyed. Somehow that made you even happier than when you had gone to your first GP.

Charles made you feel like a teenager again. A teenager with a huge crush on a cute boy, that is. But you were grateful for that, it felt good to feel this way.

Now to just get him to say it back.

That entire weekend, you were on a mission to get a love confession. You had pulled out all the stops. Booking museum tickets. Walking Central Park. You even got the two of you tickets to ice skate and you were terrible at ice skating!

You were writing a script to your own romance. First the meet cute, now the fun montage set to an upbeat hit. All that was left was the grand gesture.

And that’s where you were stuck. Usually there was a conflict in the movie that would call for that grand gesture. But you and Charles got along too well, you didn’t see any intense relationship ending arguments happening any time soon.

That was until someone finally took a picture of you and Charles out one day. Honestly, you were surprised it took that long. It wasn’t like you minded it had leaked, you were just friends hanging out, technically. Charles’s PR team on the other hand, had a big problem with it.

Ten minutes he had been in the other room, whispering yelling into his phone. Suddenly he yelled something like a goodbye and rushed out the door of his bedroom and into the living space of the huge hotel suite he had booked.

He sighed, “Sorry, they are just so dramatic about everything. One picture and they say it’s the end of my career. I drive for a living! I’m not a puppet!”

“Would it really be that bad if you were with someone?” ‘With me’ is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the heart to.

“They think it would be. But I don’t see why it would matter if I dated anyone, I’ve done it in the past.” He sighs again, running his hand through his hair.

“Is it because I’m a nobody? They want some big star to boost your name?” You looked down at your hands.

“It has nothing to do with you! They just think anybody is an issue! I told them we are friends! I just-maybe you should go home. I’ll call a car. I’m sorry.”

With that, you leave. Not sure what to say.

The day of his flight home comes and Charles has not come to see you since that day you left his hotel. You hadn’t reached out to him and he hadn’t reached out to you.

There was no reason to feel sad about him saying you were friends, you knew that’s all you were and any silly little feelings you had couldn’t change that.

A knock sounds at your door. You glance through the peephole, seeing Charles standing there. Your brows furrow in confusion as you open the door for him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane?”

He seems out of breath as he answers, “I couldn’t leave, not without saying what I need to say.”

“Okay, go on.” You urge sweetly.

“So I know I said we were friends but you and I both know we are more than that. I mean hell the first time I saw you I think I fell in love. Then I played this game with myself. I thought you would never love me back and I was a fool for even trying. Then you seemed to reciprocate my flirting and I was elated. For the first time I felt whole. But I think I got scared when the pictures leaked.” He paused like he was contemplating what to say next.

You reached your hand to his cheek, rubbing slowly. He leaned into the motion, seemingly giving him his confidence back.

“I got scared that you wouldn’t want a life in the spotlight and I could never give you that normal romance that you deserved.” Another pause.

“When I asked you about your favorite movie, you couldn’t give me just one. You gave me a genre, I went home and watched every available rom-com I could find just to understand you. You don’t need textbook perfect, you just need perfect for you. You need your rom-com.”

A smile creeps into your lips as he searches your eyes. You grab the front of his shirt, pulling him into you. Passionately, you kiss him, silently giving him your answer.

He laughs as he pulls away, breathless, “I guess you could call this the grand gesture.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“I guess you could.”

[percevalec]

THIS WONT STAY IN VEGAS {part 1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You went clubbing with your friend, celebrating her moving to Vegas. You got drunk and don't remember anything. The next morning you find yourself in bed with a stranger and a ring around your finger

Words: 3.4K

Warnings: Alcohol, Mentions of hooking up, Memory loss, (I have no idea how any of this works !) not proof read.

do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

The night was wild to say the least. You danced to all your favorite songs, drank drinks you can't even remember the name of, and apparently went back to someones hotel room.

You woke up and furrowed your eyebrows as the morning light hit your eyes through the window. Your head was killing you. 

"What the hell...." You mumbled as you sat up and looked to your left, you saw a brown haired guy laying down next to you. Whatever you shamelessly thought to yourself, this wouldn't be the first time you’ve hooked up with someone after going to the club. Everything was normal, right? Everything except the pounding headache and the memory loss you have from last night. A part of you felt bad for the guy, you couldn't even remember his name. But his name wasn't your biggest problem right now. You needed to go back to your hotel room and get to your friend so she could help you remember how you ended up here.

You also didn't fail to notice that your clothes were scattered all over the room. You quietly got up from the bed, collecting your clothes so you could get dressed. As you were putting on your dress you noticed something that you certainly don't remember owning. A cold shiny metal ring on your finger.

There's no way what you're thinking about could actually be reality, your friends would never let you marry a stranger in vegas.

Before you can think of any other explanation as to why you have a random ring on your finger, the man next to you rolls around and grunts as he slowly wakes up, “Ah... my head..." you hear him mumble as his half closed eyes slowly widen as he sees you next to him. You stare at each other, neither of you knowing what to say. It was obvious that he was also confused about the situation. He slowly pushed himself up, sitting up on the bed. You watched as he opened his mouth then quickly closed it again as if he's not sure on what to actually say.

"Uhm... what's your name." He asked awkwardly, almost embarrassed. It was obvious now that he also did not remember last night's events. “Y/N” you reply awkwardly. You didn't expect this to even be a conversation, usually you never stayed in anyone's room after a hookup, you slipped away in the middle of the night or the morning before the other person woke up. But now here you are in a very awkward situation. Not knowing what to say next you decide to ask the same question back, you were also curious to know the stranger's name. “I'm Charles” he replied to your question, looking down at the bed sheet avoiding eye contact with you. The fact that he was naked under the covers wasn't lost on him either. Especially since he was struggling to remember anything about you.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” you spoke after a second of silence. He slowly shook his head. He tried to recall anything from last night but his memories were fuzzy at best, a blur of lights and sounds that he couldn't decipher. "Not really," He admitted, his voice low. "Do you?" no. You say in a low whisper. Another moment of awkward silence goes by, neither of you daring to actually look at each other. Suddenly you notice a ring on his finger. “You have it too” you say in shock, looking at his ring noticing it matched perfectly with yours.

He looked confused as you mention the ring. i don’t remember owning a ring Charles thinks to himself.

He finally looks up at you, his eyes widening as he sees the matching ring on your finger. His face goes from confused to complete terror in a heartbeat. "What?!" He mumbled as he quickly looked down at his own ring. His jaw dropped as he saw the gold band around his finger. No way, no goddamn way.

———————————————————————————

“Something, you have to remember something from last night” you say anxiously as you pace around the room, not wanting to accept the situation you could possibly be in. 

You lost all hope in getting any answers about the events of last night as you looked over at charles. He shook his head quickly, his panic and confusion written all over his face as he tried to remember literally anything from the night before "I don't know. All I remember is drinking a lot of alcohol, and well I think we hooked up" he says looking down at the floor. 

“But there's no way we actually got married right? it's obviously a joke, we probably just found rings and decided to put them on” you say nervously laughing. He forced a nervous chuckle at your joke. He wished it was a joke, but the matching rings on your fingers made it pretty obvious that maybe it was something serious. Charles was already dreading his family finding out about this. His manager would never let him hear the end of it.

"Yeah we were probably just messing around" He tried to reassure both you and himself. “Just get dressed and help me find my phone, I was out with a friend so she must remember what happened” He quickly nodded at your statement, thankful that there was a witness to all of this. He threw off the bed sheet and stood up, looking around the room for his clothes. "Alright. You look for your phone, and I'll get dressed." He mumbled as he found his crumpled up button up shirt and pants on the ground. He quickly put them on. Once he finished getting dressed, Charles began helping you search for your phone. He looked through the various things on the floor around the bed, and the bedside table. But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find it.

He looked over at you, he was still avoiding eye contact as much as possible as he sheepishly spoke. "Did you find it yet?"

“Yeah, it was on the bathroom counter” you say as you quickly call your friend hoping she will explain what's going on. He nodded as he sat back on the bed, running his hands through his hair and letting out a deep sigh as he tried to come to terms with whatever was happening. This was an absolute disaster. He was married to a woman he didn't even know. All he could do was sit there and hope that you somehow found a way out of this whole thing. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes and listening to you talk to your friend.

———————————————————————————

“Riley?” you say over the phone “Y/N, i've been texting you all morning, where are you” you hear your friend say over the phone

“I'm not sure.., just tell me you remember what happened last night” you said realizing that you were clueless as to where you woke up. 

“How could you possibly not remember what happened! There's no way anyone would forget a night like that” Riley says over the phone, you can practically hear the smile she has on her face.

“This isn't funny Ry” You say in a serious tone. “I'm with the guy from last night, neither of us remember what happened”

“Look just tell me where you're at, I'll come and explain everything”

Perfect you think to yourself, it's only a matter of time before you get the clarity on the situation you managed to get yourself in. You look over at Charles “What's the address” you ask, still on the phone with your friend. He raised his head looking over at you with a puzzled expression on his face. Charles hesitated for a brief moment, unsure of why you needed his address. "Why do you need that?" He asked in a hushed tone, his voice still heavy with a mix of exhaustion and confusion. “My friend is coming over to explain everything”

He let out another sigh, his mind still racing with questions. He glanced at the clock, which showed it was almost 12pm already. He gave you a short nod, accepting his fate. There was no point in hiding his address, he was already married to you after all. He told you his address, his voice quiet and almost defeated sounding.

You give the address to Riley. “Okay, i'll see you in ten minutes” She responds as she hangs up the call. You sit back down on the bed next to Charles. The reality of the situation was slowly sinking in.

———————————————————————————

The awkward silence was filled only by the sound of breathing as he you sat next each other. Charles couldn't look at you directly, but he was acutely aware of your presence next to him. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration and nervousness. 

“She's only ten minutes away” you say, breaking the silence. He nodded slowly in acknowledgment, his eyes trained on the floor. Ten minutes. That seemed like both an eternity and no time at all. You swallowed hard, trying to come up with something to say, anything to distract yourself from the anxiety gnawing at the pit of your stomach. When you finally spoke, your voice was low. "So… Where are you from?" Charles glanced over at you for a swift second before looking back at the floor. He was a bit surprised by the question, it was obvious from the slight raise of his eyebrows. After a brief pause he answered. 

"Monaco." He said quietly. Charles was a bit curious as to why you were asking. But he was honestly just glad to have something else to think about besides the rings on your fingers. “I've only ever been once, it was beautiful” you say remembering your time in Monaco. “I'm from New York” you follow up, responding to your own question. His eyes looked up to yours, as he nodded. It was a bit strange to suddenly be having a relatively normal conversation considering the bizarre situation.

"I've been to New York, it's a nice city" He said casually. A beat of silence passed as he continued to stare at the floor. Charles usual confidence and charisma were noticeably absent. His mind was too occupied by the strange circumstances to really relax and be himself, not to mention the pounding headache he had. He let out a sigh, drumming his fingers on his thighs as he tried to think of something else to talk about. He didn't want to sit in this awkward silence anymore. The only issue was he was at a loss for words.

"So what do you do for a living? Besides drunkenly marrying strangers" Charles says jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. You laugh at his joke “I write for a fashion and beauty magazine” you respond feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence. Charles couldn't help but smile hearing you laugh, he was glad he was able to lighten the mood even for a moment. It was the most normal he had felt since he woke up.

"Fashion and beauty magazine?” You nod as he repeated your words. “That must be interesting”. He said, his eyes flicking to you for a moment before looking back down at his hands. Part of him still felt anxious and awkward, but at least he didn't feel as uncomfortable as before. “My mother owns the company, I grew up around it so I naturally became interested in it. I remember stealing my moms makeup when i was younger and trying my best to recreate her look” you say laughing at the memory “She would get me in trouble and wipe off the terrible make up on my face while she told me how to do it properly. Now I write makeup advice for hundreds of people” you say turning over to look at Charles. You're not sure why you randomly decided to let him know that. Charles interrupts your thoughts as he speaks up “Well then i'm sure your wedding makeup looked good" You laugh at his joke nudging him on the shoulder, he smiles at the action. You were about to speak when suddenly you heard a knock coming from the front door.

Charles straightened his back at the sound of the knock. His heart skipped a beat, his eyes darting past the bedroom door.

“That must be your friend”. He swallowed down the sudden anxiety he felt as he stood up and headed for the door. You follow him out the bedroom, walking towards the door.

He opens the door, greeting your friend with a welcoming smile. “Come in,” he says.

Riley walked past Charles and up to you, She greets you with a hug “i'm glad you’re okay” she says pulling away from the hug. Charles sits on the couch, Riley and you mirroring his movements.

“Well I would be better if you could tell me what happened last night” You say reaching for her hand.

 ——————————————————————————

“Well someone has his eye on you” Riley says as she sips her drink looking over at the guy staring at you. “At least he looks cute” you say laughing with your friend. He leaned against the bar, his eyes flickering back over to the two of you every few moments. It wasn't subtle, he wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was watching you. He was wearing a gray button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Even from a distance it was easy to tell he wasn't like the other guys that walked into a place like this, he was definitely wealthy.

 You've had about 10 drinks at this point. You desperately needed some fun. You turn to look at him again, this time he's not only staring, he's also walking up to you.

“I'm Charles” he yells over the loud music “I'm Y/N this is Riley” you say turning to look over at your friend. “You look stunning” Charles says, eyes wandering all over your body. Almost as if you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. You blush at the compliment “i know” the alcohol making you overly confident “LET'S DANCE!” you yell, grabbing Charles hand and dragging him to the dance floor.

He chuckled as you took his hand. Despite the surprise and your current intoxication he was quite amused at your eagerness. Once you made it onto the dance floor he spun you around and pulled you close to him, his body pressing against yours as the music blasted.

After what seemed like hours of dancing and drinking you notice Charles leaning over to whisper something in your ear. “My friend owns a club near here, want to go? I'm sure we can get free drinks" your eyes widen at the statement, Drinking has never really been something you do often. That's not what convinced you to go, It was him. You've had countless encounters with possible suitors flirting with you, but there was something about him that was different. You nod your head agreeing to follow him wherever he wants to take you. 

As you reach the new club you notice there's a small building called “little white chapel” next to it. The neon lights and the amount of people walking out of it is what made it catches your attention. You point it out to Charles not knowing you would regret this decision the next morning.

He quickly glances at it smiling before pulling you into the club.

His friend really did own the club, and it was way nicer than the place you had just left. This place was booming, there were lights and music and people everywhere. Charles led you to the bar and told the bartender his name, suddenly you had as many free drinks as you needed. He was clearly enjoying his time with you, and he definitely wasn't being shy about it. He was standing close to you, his arm around you as you both drank the night away. You lost count of the amount of drinks you've taken.

You can barely make out the words of the music.

You didn't notice Charles was talking to you until he grabbed your waist making you face him. “What?” you reply confused, not sure as to what he was telling you. “Marry me!” he shouts 

No one that knows you would ever describe you as an impulsive person, so you're not quite sure what made you say yes.

You shout it out “YES! I'll marry you, but I need to call my friend, i always said she would be my bridesmaid” Charles looked at you in admiration. He laughed, clearly surprised at how quickly and enthusiastically you agreed to his proposal. He was expecting at least some hesitation. “Just send her the location once we get there” Charles said, taking your hand making his way towards the exit.

You agreed. after all, the small chapel was right across the bar. 

Once you reach the chapel you send Riley a pin of your location and a quick text “meet me here” 

She arrived a little too late, Both you and Charles saying “i do” is the only thing she saw once she arrived. The alcohol made you move extremely fast.

“Y/N? You can seriously be doing this, How much have you drank” she said as both of you walked up to her.

T’s fine Riley i like him, hes nice” you drunkenly say. She has had a few drinks as well so she wasn't quite sure what to tell you.

“Don’t worry, you have my location. i'm gonna go have my honeymoon now” you say, winking at her, before rushing out and leaving with Charles to go to his hotel room. 

———————————————————————————

After what felt like an eternity of Riley explaining the situation, You and Charles turned to look at each other. He had been quiet the whole time, just listening as Riley described the events of the night.

The facts were now all laid out on the table, you've gotten married. In Vegas. While being drunk.

“Okay we made a mistake, but so have many people! Vegas is known for having impulsive weddings” you say laughing nervously “We can just get a divorce tomorrow” you suggest as you look over at Charles. 

Charles lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours as you suggested a divorce. He didn't even know your name this morning, and now he was suddenly contemplating a divorce. The whole thing felt surreal.He nodded slowly at your suggestion, his jaw set and his eyes flicking between you and your friend as he responded. "Yeah, we'll just get a divorce tomorrow. Easy."

“Easy for you to say” Riley says laughing “Thanks to the amount of impulsive marriages taking place here, it's required to have been married for at least 4 weeks before filing for divorce”

Both of your faces drop as you hear the words coming from your friends mouth. Charles's face went pale as he heard Riley say that. Four weeks. They had to be married for four weeks. That was a whole month.

He didn’t say anything at first, still trying to process what he had heard.

“Let's just forget this, i'll take your number and we can meet back here in 4 weeks” Charles took a deep breath, his eyes flicking between you and your friend. He nodded slowly, reluctantly agreeing to your suggestion. It wasn't like he had any other choice. The thought of having to be accidentally married to a stranger for one months was daunting, but what other choice did he really have?

“I don't think you're going to be able to just put this aside for the time being,” Riley says nervously as she hands you her phone. Your eyes widen at the text in front of you.

“Charles Leclerc and secret girlfriend spotted getting married in Vegas”

To make matters worse a picture of the incident was below the headline.

“What the fuck, Who even are you” you yell standing up tossing the phone to Charles so he can see how this problem got even worse 

Charles eyes widen as he catches the phone and looks down at the screen. He’s floored when he sees the headline and the accompanying photo. They were already in a messy situation, and now the photo is all over the internet.

He looked back up at you, dumbfounded. His mind was reeling. How the hell would he explain this to his family? And his manager. And the entire world, apparently.

Part 2

A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! If you would like to be tagged in part 2, Comment below and I will add you to this story's tag list !

[charlie-lec-stories]

One too many // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: When you have one too many it's great to have two boyfriends.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive dancing, suggestive talk, wholesome Charles and overprotective Max.

Author’s Note: I almost forgot I wrote this, the Vegas GP reminded me of it, took a while to edit but is finally done. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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"It's Friday theeeeeen... Then Saturday, Sunday, WHAT?!".

Her silver dress moved around as her hips skillfully followed the tempo of the song. She was an incredible dancer, Max and Charles loved that about her and they equally loved the little shows they got to enjoy whenever she decided that the world was worthy of seeing her dancing on a table under the ever-changing lights of some club. What they didn't love was how unable she was to say no, and when Lando gave her another drink and she accepted it gladly, they both knew that they were in for a long night. Max had to drink some himself to stop the urge of going to that table, pick her up and take her home and Charles was just following her around, letting her be while also trying to keep her safe. They both had different approaches to the relationship, they had no trouble sharing with each other, but Max had a hard time with outsiders. He hated when other people looked at Charles or Y/N, he was convinced that everyone had second hand intentions and was constantly worried that someone could just not care about boundaries. This fear was mostly with Y/N, since she wasn't only a woman but also an eye-catching one. Men were trying to win her over all the time and he was sure that she'll never cheat on him and Charles, but the chances of crossing paths with a guy who could refuse to listen to a no made him want to keep her safe at home and never let her out again. Charles, on the other hand, had no problem with other people looking at his partners, actually, it made him quite proud. He loved to show her off and how pretty she was, and to show people how much of a champion his boyfriend was. He loved it when people would look at Y/N or listen to her talk and he could tell that they were thinking "Charles, you lucky bastard". He knew that people could be mean and sometimes disrespectful, but he loved how carefree she was and didn't have the heart to rain on her parade, so instead of trying to take her home, he just followed her around and kept an eye on her.

"And here's a Monster with vodka for you, darling". Max heard Lando say as he handed Y/N yet another drink. Enough was enough.

"No need for another drink, Schat". (Babe). He quickly grabbed the glass and moved it away from her. His British friend looked back at him frowning, probably because he didn't catch what Max said over the loud music. "You've had enough, mijn liefje". (My love).

"But Maaaaax". She whined and that only made the Dutchman feel even more sure that they had to call it a night.

"C'mon, let's go". She sighed and he helped her down the table. It was messy, she had zero balance and her dress was too short, making it harder to bring her drown without exposing her too much. Charles walked up to them to help but the monegasque's presence just made Y/N a lot less focused and she ended up falling on Max. He caught her and placed her securely on the floor, where she quickly threw herself at Charles and wrapped her arms around his neck while Max looked for her purse to finally go home.

"You are the most handsome man on Earth, Charles". She slurred her words a lot over the music, but Charles understood perfectly. He smiled wide at her. Even if she had admitted before that she used to feel like he was out of her league for years, he was the one that felt lucky that she ever laid eyes on him.

"Thank you, mon amour. You are the pretties girl ever". (My love). She giggled and he couldn't help but feel his heart warm up at the action. She was really cute when she was drunk.

"Okay, I think we're ready to go, are we?". Max asked Charles once he walked back to him with Y/N's purse in hand. The girl moved her gaze from Charles to Max and smiled drunkly at him.

"You can take me wherever you want, Maxie". She bit her lip while shamelessly checking him out and Max laughed out loud, he found her extremely funny when she flirted. She suddenly changed her expression to a frown.

"Is everything alright, Schat?".

"Bathroom". Was all she let out while she ran away. Max and Charles sprinted off behind her but she was thinner and scurried away between the mass of bodies easier than them. When they finally made it to the women's bathroom, after pushing their way though with much difficulty, she was already coming out. They were a few meters away when they saw a man approach her. They started arguing immediately and Max's protective instinct just switched on. "I said no!".

"You heard the lady, she said no". Max looked the guy up and down, putting his big frame to good use, puffing his chest out a little and feeling encouraged by Charles standing straighter next to him, ready to back him up. "Fuck off".

"Get your own bitch, dude, I found this one first". The man grabbed Y/N's wrist possessively and she started pulling her hand away, trying her best to break the grasp.

"I said fuck off. Do as you're told or I'll break your fucking face". The guy must have seen the killer glint in Max's eyes because he was letting go of Y/N's hand and running off in a second. "We're going home". He stated. "Now".

Y/N fell asleep the second they got on the Uber, she rested her head on Max's shoulder and grabbed Charles hand, sighing. They were close to their house and when they made it, they didn't have the heart to wake her up. Charles picked her up while Max paid the driver. The Dutchman opened the door to the building and they walked in, inside the elevator the space was narrow so Max covered Y/N's head the best he could so she couldn't hit it with the walls and Charles moved her a little make himself and her fit inside. They were both glad to be home, Y/N was a handful when she drank but the night went pretty good compared to others. The elevator stopped at their floor and Max unlocked the door to the loft. Charles carefully walked out and into their home, then went straight to the bedroom. He placed his girl on the bed and took off her heels. She murmured something but didn't wake up. He could hear Max in the kitchen, probably getting water and then go to the bathroom to grab an aspirin from the first aid kit. Their girlfriend was up for a hell of a hungover the next morning. He moved her to make her laid on her side and unzipped her dress. Max walked in and placed the pill and the water bottle on one of the nightstands and went to the closet to grab an old shirt for Y/N. Charles took her dress off and Max handed him the shirt, the monegasque looked back at his boyfriend with a stern look when he noticed that the shirt was a Red Bull one.

"What? She used one of yours the other night". Max defended himself, walking close to his boyfriend. Charles scoffed.

"She had her PJs in the laundry basket. They are clean now". Charles argued, both of them trying to keep their voices down.

"I won the last race. I want her wearing my shirt. Stop messing around or I'll ask you to wear one too". Charles quickly pecked Max's lips then laughed at his childish behavior, putting the shirt on Y/N anyways. The whole conversation and all the movement finally woke her up.

"Where are we?". She asked softly, Charles caressed her cheek and moved the hair out of her face.

"We are home, Amour". She smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Great. I like home". Max chuckled.

"Good to know you like home, Schat". He sat on the bed next to her and started moving at the sheets so she could get under them, but her drunken mind was going somewhere else. He felt her sneak her hands under his shirt and run her nails over his abs. "Stop playing around, you're drunk, nothing's happening tonight".

"Ugh, you're boring". She turned her attention to Charles and her hand went directly to the button of his jeans, he grabbed her hand gently and pushed her down on the bed.

"You heard Max, no action tonight, Amour". She huffed, frustrated.

"But I'm horny as fuck". Max took off his jeans and shirt, putting on some shorts he found lying around. Charles laughed when he noticed that those were his, Ferrari's logo at the edge of the right leg, but he didn't tell Max.

"No sober, no consent". Said Max as he got into bed and tugged her close to him, making room for Charles who was also taking his clothes off to get more comfortable. He grabbed some Mercedes shorts that Toto gave him as a joke-gift when he stated dating Y/N and then went to bed. If Max was wearing something Ferrari and Y/N a RBR shirt, then it was fair he wore something from Mercedes, right?

"Okay, but we have to do it in the morning". She turned around so Max could hug her from behind, while Charles laid in front of her, snuggling close. She buried her face on his chest and inhaled his scent. They moved as close as possible and fell asleep in a blink.

The light coming from the window woke Charles way earlier than he wanted to wake up, the warm feeling on his face comforting, but his eyes hurting. Y/N was still in his arms, sound asleep, and Max next to her, awake and face up, his right arm covering his eyes. They forgot to draw the curtains before going to bed but they were both too lazy to get up and fix it. Charles loved days like this, where they could stay in bed all day if they wanted to, cuddling, watching movies and chatting. They spent all of their time together, working on the same field and living together, still, he never got bored or needed time alone. He just loved to be close to them both. He knew that Max liked that too, even if he didn't express it that much. Max came from a pretty cold family, while Charles came from a warm one. His parents were lovely, and he had a close relationship with his mother, even more since his father passed away. Max, on the other hand, was kind of distant with his mother, even thought he loved her a lot, and was forced to be civil with his father, who he strongly disliked. It was weird for Max to finally end up with a family that was this warm with him, who cared so much about him. So he enjoyed every second they had together. The little family they created was Max's most precious treasure and he cherished it with his whole heat. They stayed laying on bed for a while, until Max couldn't take it anymore and got up. He draw the curtains and then went to the bathroom. Y/N moved closer to Charles and he kissed her head, she still smelled like champagne and even though he loved the smell, she still needed a shower. The sound of Max flushing the toilet woke her up and she stirred a bit, moving away from Charles. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, then she moved around to look at Max, but she couldn't find him. Charles giggled at her pout.

"He's in the bathroom". She turned around again and brushed her nose with his. He went down for a kiss but she moved away. Now it was his turn to pout.

"My breath is terrible". Max laughed from the bathroom doorway.

"Doesn't surprise me, Schat. You mixed almost everything on stock and then threw up in the bathroom". She groaned and drop her head on the pillow, closing her eyes. The two men chuckled.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm suffering". She started getting up. "I'm never drinking again".

"You said that last Monday". Charles reminded her.

"And the one before". Max added, she just flipped them off.

"Fuck you both".

"Yeah, you tried that last night". Max told her when she finally walked up to him on the doorway to the bathroom.

"Really?". She walked past him and prepared everything to brush her teeth.

"Yes. Nothing happened, of course, but you're a persistent woman, Amour". Max went back to the bed and just then noticed that he was wearing the Ferrari shorts. He groaned and Charles let out a burst of laugher, Max sending him a killer gaze. Y/N walked out of the bathroom to find Charles spread out on the bed while Max took off his shorts.

"Oh, I guess we're picking up where we left off?". She walked to Max and kissed him fondly, her minty breath mixing his. But her head started hurting and she had to step away. "Ugh, my head is killing me".

"Maybe you should sleep a little more, Schat". Max suggested, ignoring completely the effect the kiss had on him.

"Here, take the aspirin". Charles passed her the pill and the water bottle. She took them and he got up, going to the bathroom too. Max went back to the bed and Y/N swallowed the pill with some difficulty. They heard Charles brushing his teeth too and she followed Max back into bed. They started kissing again, but at some point he pulled away, knowing that they all needed more sleep to recover from the night out.

"I want to be in the middle again". She told him and Max rolled his eyes.

"You're so needy". She hit his shoulder but he let her take his place anyways. Charles walked out and went straight back to bed. They resumed the position they were all in before.

"Can I have my kiss now? We both brushed our teeth, Amour". Y/N giggled and moved close to him, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips moved in sync for a while, until Charles started to feel the same effect Max felt before and broke the kiss. "Let's stop here and get some more sleep. You need it, Y/N".

"Okay, but we have fun when we wake up". Max chuckled behind her and kissed her shoulder.

"Of course, Schat".

They all fixed their positions to get more confortable and tried to go back to sleep again. Charles and Max grabbed each other's hand and rested them on Y/N's waist, Charles running his thumb in circles over Max's hand. The boys were almost asleep when Y/N spoke up.

"Thank you for taking care of me". She whispered it, vulnerability dripping from her words. "I know that I can be a handful". She sighed and they both hugged her tighter. "I love you both, so much".

"We love you too, Amour". Charles kissed her forehead. "You don't have to thank us for taking care of you. We'll always look after you".

"Always. No matter what, Schat".

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Okay! I hope you guys liked it! I'm in the process of editing three more stories, so more content will be uploaded soon. As always, thank you for reading.

[ashwhowrites]

Yay! Your requests are open again!

Eddie + Reader are divorced, but parted on good terms. One day they are at a b-day of one of their mutual friends and get a little tipsy. They start talking and eventually hook up that night.

Reader finds out she is pregnant and decides to keep the baby with Eddie's full support. Throughout the pregnancy, they fall back in love.

<3 Thank you.

This is so cute. A happy ending!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Oh, Baby

Falling in love young is always an unexpected journey. Y/N and Eddie felt unstoppable as they fell in love. Young teens that dove into something bigger than they thought they could handle. Fire and full of passion, speeding through too fast for either of them to see when it started to fall apart. They got married right after high school, hitched off to Vegas and she took his last name. Everyone thought they were crazy and dumb. But isn't the saying only fools go rushing in?

The start of their marriage was a fairytale. It was everything they dreamed of and knew they would prove everyone wrong. Because they knew they were meant to be and there was no one else they would ever be with. They fit perfectly together.

As hard as it was, they discovered people change as they grow up. And sometimes can't change together. Eddie and her wanted too many different things, which led them to realize they were meant to be together young, and not to grow old with.

They ended on good terms, both wishing the best for each other. They didn't keep much in contact, knowing it was easier to move on if they went their separate ways. They didn't have anything tying them together so they let go.

~~~

Steve decided to throw himself a huge birthday party for turning thirty. And since he was a friend of Eddie's and Y/N's they both knew there was a chance they'd run into each other.

Y/N may have gotten a new dress and tried extra hard with her makeup. She may have sprayed on Eddie's favorite perfume she used to wear during their marriage. She might have been eyeing the door, dying to see him again.

Eddie may have rolled up his sleeves in the way Y/N always liked. He may have dosed his neck in the cologne that made her legs weak. He might have tied up his hair in a lower bun, knowing his loose curls drove her insane. He might have smoked a cigarette on the way as he calmed his nerves.

Once he walked in, the magnetic connection between them yanked them together instantly. His eyes latched on her as she walked over to him. His nose inhaled her sweet perfume as she wrapped her arms around him. He bit his lip when he pulled away, no shame in checking her out.

She could smell the cologne on his skin, craving to taste him again. She blushed under his stare, the dress doing what she wanted. She couldn't help but check him out as well. She bit her lip as she noticed his thick arms underneath his tight button-up, his sleeves rolled so his tattoos showed. The fancy watch on his wrist and rings on his fingers. Yet, the only finger that remained empty was his ring finger.

"You look incredible." He complimented, his voice deep and raspy. It reminded her of his morning voice, how he'd roll over and whisper right against her ear.

"Thanks, Eds. You do too." Eddie felt like he got lost in her smile all over again.

"Eddie! You made it!" Steve cheered, dragging Eddie out of the room. His brown eyes looked back at her until she was out of his sight.

~~~

The last few people were starting to head out. Y/N had her feet in the pool as she sipped her drink. Steve was picking things up in the backyard, keeping a close eye on her.

"Sure you don't want me to bring you home?" He asked, but she shook off his offer.

"No, I think I'm good to drive." Steve accepted her answer and walked inside. He gave a small smile to Eddie as he passed him. Eddie had his hands in his pockets as he walked up to her. She smiled as he sat next to her, his back to the pool as he stretched out his legs. His shoulder rested against hers as he looked at her.

Neither knew how long they were out there, talking for hours. But they got the cue to leave once Steve was ready for bed.

Just like old times, she held his hand as they walked to his car. His hand was on her thigh as she hummed to the radio. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, but the smile on her face never left. The same feelings she felt on their first date were happening again.

"You still haven't fixed that front step!" Eddie laughed, following behind Y/N as she unlocked the front door. The same house they lived in together before Eddie moved out. Eddie remembered breaking that step when they moved in, carrying way too many boxes.

"It's our first memory in this house, I never want to fix it." She shrugged, taking off her shoes as he walked in behind her. He looked around, not much had changed. The pictures of them were taken off the walls, and replaced with their friends. All the things he took with him kept the place empty, he realized she never replaced his things with anything new.

"I kinda figured you'd make this place into your own," Eddie admitted, walking further into the small house. He didn't hear her behind him, and she didn't say a word.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured two glasses. She let Eddie look around the house as she grabbed the glasses and headed to the couch.

After a second, Eddie joined her. Both filled up the silence with random conversations as they sipped glass after glass.

As time went on, she found herself and Eddie moving closer to closer. Then she felt his lips on hers, his hands eagerly touching her. She felt like he took all her breath away, his hands touching her the same way they used to. His kiss felt the same.

~~~

It's been a week since she and Eddie had sex. She felt relieved that he was still there when she woke up. It was awkward at first, neither knowing what to say or what the next step was.

But they were divorced, and they had to remind themselves of that.

She didn't plan on seeing Eddie much after that, just a little backslide but she's back on the path of moving forward.

That was until she found out she was pregnant. She knew it was Eddie's since she hadn't been with anyone lately. She was worried Eddie might not want to be brought back together again. But the excitement that was on his face washed all her worries away. He cheered and spun her around.

He always wanted a family and he always wanted it with her.

He didn't let her do a single thing alone. He went to every appointment, holding her hand as they stared at the screen. They went to every baby store, and he insisted on buying everything she wanted. Together they worked on the nursery at her house, Eddie painted the room and cleaned up the floors. She couldn't help but feel so much love for him as he worked to put the nursery together. His touch all around the room.

Some nights he stayed on the couch, the more she grew the more nervous he got leaving her alone. If there was ever an issue, no matter the time, he'd show up at her door.

She couldn't help but wish the divorce never happened, that Eddie was still hers. But in a way, she felt like they needed the divorce to grow on their own. And be better for each other.

"I still can't believe I did that!" Eddie groaned, Y/N laughed at his embarrassment, rubbing her stomach as she retold the story of when Eddie got drunk and met her parents for the first time.

They found themselves traveling down their memories every time they hung out. Digging up old feelings and showing them on their arms.

"Why are you laughing? You met Wayne right after you sucked me off!" Eddie said, laughing as she covered her face in horror.

"We were so crazy back then." Y/N sighed after their laughter died. Her hand was on her bump as she looked at him. "We were so in love and inseparable. What happened to us?"

Eddie looked over at her, his hand reaching to rub her stomach. His eyes were soft as he looked into her eyes.

"We grew up. I was nowhere near a good husband for you. I wanted to be, but we were too young to try to save a love like that. But there was never a day I didn't think about you." He admitted, dropping to his knees as he rested his chin on her bump.

She leaned down and rubbed his cheek, melting at his brown eyes.

"I always thought about you too. I know we were young and neither of us knew how to fight for each other, just against each other. But do you ever think about us if we did make it through? If we kept trying instead of giving up?"

"Sometimes," Eddie admitted, leaning into her touch. "But look where we are now. I think we needed to grow up on our own. Without the fear of disappointing each other. It helped us truly focus on just ourselves. And now? We are having a baby. Exactly where I always wanted to be with you." He kissed her stomach softly, resting his head against her as she played with his hair.

Before she could say something, she felt something. A harsh cramp in her stomach. She gasped and gripped Eddie's shoulders. His worried eyes looked at her as he felt something in her stomach.

"Was that?"

"Did he?"

Then another cramp, Y/N smiled when she realized their baby was kicking.

"Eddie! He's kicking!" She announced, Eddie quickly placed his hands on her stomach.

"Kick for daddy." He said, a smile on his face as he felt a hit against his palm.

Y/N felt tears in her eyes as she watched Eddie excitedly talk to the baby and wait for kicks. The excitement in his bright eyes and the love.

"I love you." She whispered, sniffling.

He looked up, hand on her stomach and the other hand on her cheek. He rubbed her tears away.

"I love you too."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost helps Riot decorate the Christmas tree at the base.

Fluff. A gift for my friend, @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot with her OC, Christine “Riot” Vega. (Awesome render here!)

———————————————————————

“It’s too tall.”

“Or, maybe you’re too short.”

Riot shifts her gaze from the Christmas tree to Ghost. He doesn’t regard her back, yet she knows there’s a smile underneath that mask—one of those triumphant, snarky, arrogant, ‘i-got-her-again’ grins.

“Behave, Lieutenant,” she warns. “I’m 1.70, in case you didn’t read my file.”

“Congratulations to the whole 1.70 of you,” he replies and playfully pats her head. “With or without the shoes?”

Riot rolls her eyes and swats his hand away. “Can you just get me the ornament boxes from the warehouse?” She asks.

“You have to be more specific, love,” He says. “The warehouse is a two thousand square meter void filled with cardboard boxes.”

“I don’t have the coordinates, Ghost.” She replies, smirking. “You can ask Gaz whether he planted a GPS tracker in them or, here’s a better idea: how about you search for the boxes labelled as ‘Xmas’?”

Now, he’s the one rolling his eyes. He murmurs a “how unique” and walks to the door to fulfil her request.

While waiting for Ghost to find and retrieve the boxes, Riot tests the new Christmas lights they bought by plugging them into the socket. Once she confirms they work, she starts wrapping them around the tree. Although the task appears to be assigned to just the two of them, it took all five—including the captain who gave the roles—to make it happen.

Gaz chose the tree and bought extra ornaments, then Soap measured its dimensions, ensuring enough lights to cover it. Once aligned, they raked the entire base to decide on the perfect spot. Their prerequisites? It had to be a place where everyone could see it and would do it justice. Unfortunately, they couldn’t agree on a specific location, so they met in the middle and decided to place the tree in the mess hall, the exact same spot it was last year. And the year before it. And the year before it.

Then, it was up to Ghost to carry the tree, and the captain instructed him to help Riot with the “heavy-duty” tasks. Now, all that’s left is for Riot to decorate it.

“I still don’t get why you get to decorate.” Ghost says, placing the boxes on the floor. “Why are we doing chores like measuring and carrying boxes while you get the fun stuff?”

“Because whoever did it last year did a terrible job,” she retorts, emphasising ‘whoever’ and handing Ghost a light strip to continue up to the top. “You guys didn’t even shuffle the decorations. Not to mention that the back was empty.”

“Nobody sees the back,” Ghost argues.

“You don’t?” Riot smirks.

“Nobody sees the back of the tree,” Ghost corrects.

“Well, I do,” she replies, pointing at the top of the tree, “and go a little bit lower over there.”

“Like that?” he asks.

“Like that,” she confirms.

After finishing the light placement, Ghost sits on the sofa. He takes an ornament shaped like a candy cane from one of the boxes and starts playing with it. Riot, on the other hand, gets straight to the job. She opens the boxes and grabs two ornaments. She places one on the tree, removes it and tries the other. She concludes on the latter. She turns around to search the boxes for more ornaments and catches Ghost fiddling with the candy cane.

“You can go if you’re bored,” she says. “I won’t finish anytime soon.”

“That I figured,” he murmurs under his breath, making Riot instinctively place her hands on her waist. He lets a sharp chuckle and shakes his head. “I’m alright here.” He assures her.

But of course, where else would he be alright if not here?

Time passes quickly. Ghost and Riot reminisce about their past Christmases—childhood festivities, memorable Boxing Day gifts, favourite holiday foods, and the annual movies that defined each season. Yet, these beautiful memories end at a certain point unique to each. Maybe those memories have faded away, or perhaps they have purposefully chosen to let them go. And when that happens, when they approach that personal boundary, they stop dwelling on those past celebrations and turn to each other, to the present, to fill them with joy.

Sometimes, Riot shows Ghost different ornaments, and he either picks one or dismisses the options with a casual “whatever” or “there’s no difference.” Other times, Ghost critiques her progress, giving feedback while she decorates. He points out areas needing more attention or playfully suggests she’s gone overboard elsewhere. In return, Riot replies with a firm yet joking, “Go on; you do it then”, and shuts him up.

She lifts one final piece into the air and shows it to Ghost—the Christmas tree topper.

“Seems that I’m too short to reach the top,” she pouts.

“Nonsense,” he whispers and stands up. “It’s the tree that’s too tall.”

He walks towards her, grabs her waist, and lifts her up.

“Now I get why the captain assigned me for the heavy-duty stuff,” he says.

“Drop me, and I’ll stick you up there instead of the topper.” She warns him, chuckling. “Take one more step forward, please.”

Ghost does as told, and Riot places the topper at the top. She adjusts it and lightly taps Ghost’s hand to put her down. They take a few steps back and marvel at the result.

“What do you think?” Riot asks, still looking at the tree.

“Seems alright.” Ghost shrugs. “Should we turn the lights on?”

“No,” Riot replies. “I want all of them to be here when we do it.”

He turns to look at her and nods. She meets his gaze and smiles.

“Thank you for lifting me up.” She says.

“No,” he replies. “Thank you for lifting me up.”

———————————————————————

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part fourteen

authors note: this one is loaded, and there are some hints/tidbits spread throughout, but also.....please don't hate me. 😭

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes, angst

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 12k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

Bianca: Hi. I know you asked for space, and I will respect that. I just want you to know I talked to dad. I made him be honest with me, and I know the truth now.  I completely understand if your decision is that you want nothing to do with me. But please know, I had no idea, and I would love the chance to be in your life. I am not our father.

Bianca: It may have started with him, but it can end with us.

Rereading the text for what must be the 18th time, you feel just as conflicted and confused as you were when you first received it a few days prior. It’s been a bit easy to ignore it, to let it sit unanswered as you focused on getting as much work done as you could before leaving for Vegas. 

Thankfully, as the game is on a Sunday, you, Callie, and Alexis got an early morning flight to Vegas where you were met by Joe at the airport. After Callie had her sweet meltdown at seeing Joe again, the three of ya’ll met up with the twins, Trin, Kaylah, Jon’s wife, and the rest of the kids at the hotel.

You were a little nervous about Callie meeting her other cousins, as you know kids don’t always get along right away. But all anxiety is melted away the minute Callie and Jon’s daughter, Ellie, bonded over a common love of Disney. It’s a wrap from there, so much so that Callie feels comfortable enough to be left with them while you and Joe leave to get your tattoos.

Your current location. 

“Let's play a game.”

Joe’s suggestion is greatly appreciated because it pulls you away from hyper-fixating on this text and just what to do with said text. However, it’s also questioned because what the hell kind of games do people play at ya’ll’s big ages?

“Joe, we are too damn old for games—but what is it?”

He laughs at your quick change of tune. He must know that inner competitiveness never really goes away, even if you haven’t been in that competition space in literal years. “I'm gonna show you a house, and all you have to say is either you like it or not. But, you can't ask any questions.”

“A house? Like an actual house?”

“Yes, baby. An actual house.”

His sarcastic tone doesn’t help. Asshole. “And I can’t ask you any questions about a literal house we’re thinking of buying?”

“Yup.” 

Pouting, you murmur, “This game sucks.”

“Okay, Callie.” He messes around on his phone, giving a couple touches before he hands you his phone.

You nearly drop the damn thing, mouth ajar in awe. “Joe, how much—”

“No questions, remember?”

Sucking your teeth, you continue to scroll, each photo evoking another level of wonder. The house is stunning and huge. A literal mansion with landscape and design that looks like it was ripped right out of a luxury HGTV special. Swiping through the photos, each allow you to see that the beauty is not only matched but in many ways exceeded on the inside. A massive kitchen with two ovens, spacious bedrooms, almost equally large bathrooms, movie theater room, a separate building in the humongous backyard that you could easily see Joe turning into a personal gym, and so much more.

You really focus on the outside photos, eyes softening. “She's always wanted a backyard….” It's so easy for you to imagine Callie running around freely, swinging on a swing, maybe even helping you tend to a garden you see more than enough room to plant.

You can see yourself in this house.

“I like it,” you finally answer. There's no need to lie to him, and you're pretty sure he could tell you love it based on your facial expressions alone. “Now can you tell me how much—”

“Nope.”

Sitting up, you shove on his shoulder. “Come on, that's not fair.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Leati.” You can't remember the last time you called this man by his first name. Years, most likely. You used it sparingly, far and few in between, mostly reserved for moments like this when he was pissing you off. 

“You can complain all you want. I'm not telling you shit.” That only irks you more, and he’s indifferent to your obvious irritation, which pisses you off even more. If anything, he sounds almost amused at your frustration. “I'm gonna ask the realtor to arrange a tour. You can ask her then.”

Suspicious, you accuse, “your ass will probably tell her not to tell me or to lie.”

“Maybe.” 

It’s the fact that you know that’s something he would do too. “So my name wouldn’t be on the house? Is that what you’re saying?”

At that, he looks your way, clearly confused but mostly offended. “Of course, it would. Your name will be on everything. I just can’t give you too much information now because you’ll push back and say it’s too much.”

“So, it is expensive,” you conclude. He sighs, heavily. “Joe, we don’t need anything too extravagant or over the top. You know I’m not materialistic like that. I don’t want you feeling like you have to—”

“How many times do we have to have this conversation?” There’s a hint of irritation in his tone, but it’s not entirely unwarranted. Joe has told and showed you multiple times that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you and Callie. It’s just you being…..well, you. “Anything I do for you, anything I do for Callie is because I want to. You should know by now that I’m a man who won’t do anything he doesn’t want to.”

Sitting on his words, you answer, “I know.” And you do, you’re just so damn slow in actually accepting this. “I’m sorry, I just—I’m stubborn. You know this.”

“Yeah, well get un-stubborn.” His hand on your thigh gives a teasing squeeze but before you can inquire about just what kind of alone time you two will have over this weekend, a man walks out, heavily tatted, dressed in semi traditional Samoan attire and wearing a friendly smile.

Joe stands up to greet the man, introducing him as Mike. It’s a name you’re familiar with as you recall eons ago when Joe would rave about his tattoo artist and the man’s insane talent. 

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” It’s both strange and welcomed hearing Joe introduce you as such, like it’s almost too good to be true, even if there’s not an ounce of reluctance in his voice.

“Nice to meet you,” you greet, accepting his handshake. “And for getting us in on short notice.”

He waves it off. “Joe’s always welcomed here anytime and as his girlfriend, so are you.”

It stands out to you just how many people speak so highly of Joe. You've always thought he was a genuinely nice guy, but hearing it co-signed by others definitely shows what a gem you’ve got. “Great design choice, by the way,” he compliments, directing his next question toward you. “Joe mentioned you were a bit nervous about the placement….”

“I think I’m good now,” you answer. Tattoo pain is temporary, but placement is forever. You especially don’t want to “settle” for something that has so much meaning. “Same placement as his, but he can go first.”

Mike laughs, clapping his hands together. “Sounds great. Let’s get started.” 

________

You’d completely forgotten how extremely frustrating it is to get ready to go clubbing, and understandably so given at your big age, that’s not really a thing. However, Alexis absolutely refused to accept your decline to go out with her and even convinced Trinity and Kaylah to tag along. 

The bitch even took it upon herself to bring an outfit for you, knowing you definitely didn’t pack for this kind of outing. 

And while the dress is definitely fire, it’s a pain to get on given the cutouts and need to clasp the chest part. Not to mention, your arm is still a bit sore from the tattoo. Granted, Callie’s excitement at seeing how both you and Joe got her name tatted on you was more than worth all the pain. 

This dress though….it’s not worth shit.

“Fuck.” This was so much easier two bra sizes ago, but between trying to hold them together and clasp the hook on the dress, you’re just about ready to call it a night before the night can even truly begin. Settling frustration aside, you grab the robe off the counter and slide it on as you stick your head out the door. “Babe?”

His deep voice replies seconds later. “Yeah?” 

“Can you come help me with something real quick?”

“Mommy,” Callie groans, and you can only imagine the scowl on her face. She loves spending time with her daddy. “We’re playing.”

Your lips curve into a smile, assuring her, “it’ll only take a second, baby.” 

Joe walks into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. “What’s up?”

“I need you to clasp my dress for me,” you explain, removing the robe and holding your breast with your forearm. “I’m gonna hold them up, and I just need you to—what?”

His eyes slowly travel up and down your body, but his overall gaze reeks of confusion and a level of disapproval. “Where’s the rest of it?”

You’re not stupid, very much aware of what he’s asking. But, you’re also stubborn, a fact he’s well aware of given the fact that you talked about just that this morning. “The rest of what?”

His answer is simple. “Your outfit.”

Muscle twitching in your jaw, you attempt to divert the conversation. “Come on, everyone else is almost ready—“

“I’m serious.” 

Huffing, you slap on that sweet, teacher voice and bring your hands to his chest, allowing your breast to fall open and freely. It doesn’t miss you how his gaze moves downward and lingers. “Joe, I love you, but you met me post-college. Trust me, this is tame compared to what I used to wear clubbing. And we both know I’m gonna wear what I want, regardless, so I just need you to swallow that annoying ass male pride, which I know you will, because you love me enough to do so, and just strap my titties down for me, okay?” Leaning up to kiss his cheek, your finger moves in a figure eight down his body. “Besides, when I get back tonight, you get to rip this same dress off me, bend me over this very same counter right next to us, and make me watch as you fuck me, hard, from behind.”

Your sex drive has always been on the higher end, but it’s been even more intense in the past couple days, and while your last few intimate encounters with Joe have been more loving and sweet…..that’s not what you need right now. 

You need this man to fuck you in the way only he can. Choking, spanking, biting, a tad bit of degrading, hips bruised from how tight he holds you with backshots that have you speaking in a different language. The whole nine yards. 

Your words paint such a vivid picture that’s clearly too far out for his comfort as his hands move to your ass, squeezing roughly. “And what’s stopping me from doing just that right now?”

God has a cruel sense of humor because before you can even fix your mouth to respond, the very reason why makes her presence known. She knocks on the door with all the irritation in her little body. “Daddy, are you almost done?”

Eyes twinkling with mischief as you step back to hold your breast together, you remind him. “that is why not. You’re on daddy duty tonight.” Joe doesn’t say anything and instead finally hooks it for you. “Thank you.”

“At least pull it down in the back or something,” he grumbles and actually tries to pull down the back of the dress.

“Baby, I have an ass. It’s gon’ shift right back up as soon as I move.” Sure enough, one step is all it takes for it to roll up just a few centimeters below your ass. Unlocking and opening the door, you beam at Callie. “He’s all yours, baby girl.”

“You look so pretty, mommy!”

“Thank you, baby.” You lean down for a kiss on her cheek right as Alexis walks in. Callie goes to lead Joe back into the “living room” area as Alexis welcomes herself into the hotel room. You’re not even gonna bother asking how she got a key. Her dress, unlike your all black little piece, is sparkly, short, and strapless. It’s very much Alexis.

She gasps. “Girl, that dress is fitting and your boobs are sitting.” 

Winking and lifting your breasts, you laugh, complementing, “you look amazing.”

“Duh. I’m me.” She brushes her shoulders before peeping past you to say hi to Joe and Callie. “Hi, future brother-in-law and part time child.”

All you can hear is Callie asking Joe what a part time child is as Alexis grabs you by your wrist and starts dragging you toward the door. “Come on, Trin wants us to do a TikTok before we leave.”

Instantly, you’re scowling. “A TikTok? Girl, we are too old for that.”

“I swear, you act like you’re 75 sometimes,” she dismisses, walking you out the room and across the hall to the other room where Jimmy and Trin are staying. You’re still impressed how they all managed to get rooms not only on the same floor but literally all across each other.

Must be a rich people thing.

Walking into the room, you see Trin and Kaylah are dressed a bit more modestly then you and Alexis, not as much skin showing but still very much giving club vibes. 

Compliments are again exchanged among the four of you, but Kaylah is the first to say, “girl, I’m surprised Joe didn’t have nothing to say about your outfit.”

Chuckling, you inform, “he tried, but he knows I don’t play that. I’m a grown woman. Imma wear what I want. Besides, I know how to shut him up.” 

What’s implied doesn’t need to be explained but not according to Alexis who of course blurts out, “that’s right. Sitting on your man’s face will do it every time.”

“Please excuse her. She ran out of her Lithium.”

“Ehh, they tried that. Didn’t work for me.” It’s the fact that she’s probably dead serious too. “Okay, now which trend are we doing, Trin?”

Trinity's smile, like everything else about her, is bright and beautiful. “I was thinking the Wanna Be one by Meg and Glo.”

Instantly, you know Alexis is sold. “That is my damn song.” She then points to you. “This one needs to go last though, because when I tell you that thing moves like water. This bitch can twerk like Megan.”

One thing you’ve never been is a liar, so you can’t find it in you to call bullshit on Alexis exclamation. You’ve always been super flexible, courtesy of cheer, and twerking has always come a bit natural to you. But, it was really when you started hitting up the strip clubs in college and made acquaintances with the strippers that you learned all of the tricks. 

However, it’s also been years since you last stepped out on the town, and your joints start to hurt from just sitting too long, so the hype may be a little bit undeserved after all.

“That was also before I had a baby, Lex.”

Alexis brushes off your downplay. “She can even do the hand thing. You know, where you put your hand in between your ass cheeks while you still shaking? Iconic.”

Studying her closely, you realize why she’s so amped already. “You pre-gramed, didn’t you?”

She presses her lips together and then goes into denial. “I plead the fifth.” Laughing, she tugs on your arm. “Come onnnn.”

“Fine.” Caving to Alexis is typically the best outcome because the bitch is relentless when she wants something, especially when she’s already tipsy. 

However, Trinity seems just as excited as she directs the three of you to the bathroom where she already has the phone propped up and everything. 

It ends up being a fun time that reminds you so much of those days back in college where you and Lex and a few other girlfriends would spend a damn near hour taking the “perfect” photos for the “gram” and even longer to come up with a witty caption. You even show off a little bit of your twerking skills, nothing too crazy, much to Alexis chagrin. 

Arriving at the club and being escorted to the VIP section, courtesy of Alexis, the ladies order a round of drinks while you settle for a simple bottle, never glass, of water. After your whole fiasco during Christmas, you can’t see yourself sipping even a glass of wine for a while.

It’s a nice blast from the past but also suddenly a bit irritating with how noisy and boisterous everything is. The club is packed, and you’re grateful to be seated up and away from everyone else. While Alexis starts to get her buzz going, Trin partially surprises you by asking for your approval to upload one of the videos to TikTok and a photo to post on Instagram. It’s only partially surprising, because Trin has always been a real one. 

You agree and even helping her with a caption. 

Something bout’ that melanin ✨

Pulling out your own phone to check in on Joe and Callie, you’re surprised to see you have a bunch of IG notifications. This leads to you realizing that Alexis, at some point, posted a couple of photos she made you take on your profile. She even took it upon herself to come up with a caption that makes you both chuckle and shake your head. 

ya favorite athlete’s favorite athlete 😌

It’s not a huge deal to you, as you’d went ahead and made your Instagram private again a couple months prior. It’s a feature you toggle on and off, knowing that only the people you want knowing and seeing your page would even know how to find you. However, with Joe being back in your life and having a few posts with Callie’s face in them, you lean on the side of caution and just plan to keep it private from here on out.

It’s the comments though that really make you pause. 

@user1 omg y/n!!! That body been giving, sis! 

@user2 HA! Always was that girl. Still that girl. Miss you, cuz!

@Mariaaahhhh___92: This really how you wanna do this?

@BigLexPurr: Say it louder for the BITCH in the comments before me. I mean, in the back. 😃

@user3: If only I looked like that after having my baby lmao You look amazing, Y/N!

@RomanReigns Damn straight.

With all the swiftness and quickness, you block Mariah, not needing or wanting her and Alexis to get into a whole spat under your post. But Joe’s comment is definitely one that takes you for surprise, and you wrestle with whether or not you should acknowledge it but eventually decide to do so with a simple reply. 

@yourusername @RomanReigns 😘

You make a mental note to roast his ass for being in your IG comments like that but put your phone away when WAP comes on. Of course, it’s only appropriate that the four of you rap along to every iconic, spiritual lyric spit by Meg and Cardi. Alexis even influences you into doing a little twerk on her that she absolutely captures on Snapchat.

You don’t even need to ask her to know she’s gonna waste no time in sending that over to Joe. How she managed to get him to accept her add on Snapchat is something you’ll never understand. 

“I need some more drink, but I don’t want to get up,” Alexis whines, shooting you the puppy dog eyes.

“Gee, why don’t I—”

“Thank you, friend!”

Shaking your head, you make your way out of the VIP and through the crowd to the bar. Placing the order, you wait patiently, praying that what you know is bound to happen doesn’t happen. A waste of a prayer, because that unwanted happening appears in the form of a crooked smile, bad haircut, and height that can’t exceed 5’9.

He just leans back against the bar, as if waiting for you to, of all things, acknowledge him. That makes you laugh aloud. The fucking irony. 

You decide to take the lead and dead this thing before he can run whatever play he thinks will work on you. “No, I don't want or need you to pay for my drink, and I don't need anything put on your tab. I'm good.”

His smile doesn't deter. If anything, he looks even more intrigued. This was always the part you hated about clubbing. Men who can’t seem to conceive that you “playing hard to get” is actually and really just complete and utter disinterest.

“Oh, you more than good, ma.” His gaze resting on your chest much longer than what's appropriate is both irritating but expected. Men see titties and lose all sense of self-control, the little that some actually do possess, that is. “I'm just trying to see how good.”

You were over this conversation before it even started, hence your readiness to put an end to his fruitless hopes and your irritation.

“My man is 6’3, 287lbs and fights niggas for a living.” Tone both bored and casual as you list off basic facts, you ask, “He's home right now watching our 6 kids. Still wanna do this?”

It's the way his eyes go wide that makes it hard for you not to laugh. That should definitely do the trick. “Naw, I'm good. You fine, but you ain't that damn fine.”

“That's what I thought.” Taking the Martini from the bartender, you saunter your way back over to your section and hand it to Alexis.

“I take it homeboy was trying to take you home.”

Chuckling, you nod. “But, I handled it.”

“Oh, I'm sure you did.” She then turns to the group. “This one was always vicious when turning down bums at the club.”

“Cause sir, why are you talking to me with your uneven fade and height that starts with a 5?”

Trinity and Kay fall out laughing, but you’re dead serious. You’d been called arrogant a couple of times, but it never really affected you because you know you just have standards and refuse to settle.

And clearly…..it worked out.

“I really wish we could do this more often,” Kay suddenly shares, and it takes you a bit by surprise. There was a level of trepidation regarding meeting Josh’s wife. You know they’ve been together since they were in high school, which means there’s a good chance she knows Joe’s ex-wife. A chance they could be friends.

And if she’s anything unlike Mariah, she wouldn’t want to chop it up with the woman who slept with and had a whole baby for her friend’s husband. But so far, Kay has been nothing but kind, a bit on the quiet and reserved side. It’s an interesting dynamic considering Josh is anything but. 

“Do you live in Florida too?” Alexis suddenly asks, sipping her Martini. When Kay nods, Lex slaps you on the arm. “Well, this one will be moving there probably before the end of summer, so maybe ya’ll can link up more often.”

Intrigue paints both Trin and Kay’s faces, as the former asks, “seriously?”

“Yeah, umm, Joe and I were actually looking at a house earlier.” A thin layer of excitement re-emerges as you reflect on the photos you saw. You really do like that house, but it feels so much like a dream, like the expensive houses you look at and critique on Zillow knowing damn well you can’t afford them. 

And you can’t, but he probably can. 

You know he can, or he wouldn’t be showing you in the first place. 

“How do you really feel about moving?” Trin questions. “You still live in your hometown, right?”

“I do.” It’s a valid question, one you, if you’re being honest, sometimes go back and forth on. You know you want to move and ultimately will, but there are still some moments where you feel a bit unsure. It’s to be given, you’re sure, as change can be difficult. “There’s a lot of things I’ll miss, like being away from my mom, but….I want to be with Joe, and it’s what’s best for Callie.”

“She really is a sweet child. You did an amazing job with her.” 

Kay’s compliment warms your heart. “Thank you….that means a lot to me.” Callie is your pride and joy, so to hear others speak highly of her, of how you raised her thus far will always be the best kind of compliment. 

“You’re a teacher, so you’re off for the summer, right?” Trinity suddenly asks. Nodding, she continues, “you and Callie should go on the road with Joe this summer then. Maybe not the whole summer, but a portion. It’ll be fun. I’d love to have ya’ll, and you know he would too.” 

It’s a suggestion that you find yourself actually considering. Outside of PD, which can be done virtually with some prior arrangements, there really would be nothing stopping you from tagging along. Callie would be ecstatic, and something tells you Joe would too. 

Kay then shoots Trinity a look that you can’t quite decipher. “isn’t he….” 

As if awareness dawns, Trinity mutters, “oh, shit, I forgot.” 

Understandably curious, and always uncomfortable with being kept out of the communication loop, you inquire, “what?”

Trinity looks a bit nervous but then answers casually, “Oh nothing, I just forgot they’ve, uhh, gotten a little strict now about family coming on the road. Something about it being too distracting for the wrestlers.”

Alexis seems as skeptical as you are. There’s something they’re not saying. “Isn’t he literally like the face of the whole company? I feel like if he wants them there, then they’ll be there.” She has a fair point. “Look how he takes time off to come fly and see them.”

That actually brings on a question you’ve been wondering about for a while. Directed to Trinity, you ask, “do you know if he gets in trouble for that?” Trinity looks a bit unsure of how to respond, and you know immediately it’s because she’s trying to figure out how much to say. “The truth, please. I can handle it.” 

With a heavy sigh, she relents, “Jon mentioned Joe said something about them talking with him, but I get the sense Joe told them to fuck off. Professionally, of course.”

You’re not sure how to feel about this. The last thing you want is for Joe to risk all of his hard work for you. And you know it’s more for Callie than anything, which you get, but he still has contractual obligations he needs to fulfill.

“I can tell you this…..they can say what they want, but Joe doesn’t play about you and Callie, so he gon keep hopping on flights as much as he needs to.”

“He was really happy when he found out about Callie,” Kay adds in a soft tone with a kind voice. “I remember overhearing him talking with Josh, and he told him, “she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Crying in the club definitely wasn’t on your agenda for this trip, but here you are, trying to blot your eyes with the back of your hand. “Ya’ll, I didn’t wear waterproof mascara. Don’t have me out here looking like a racoon scaring folks off.”

Alexis chimes, “Joe won’t mind. It’ll keep him from coming up in here beating some poor soul’s ass for trying to holler at you.”

Kaylah snorts. “She’s not too far off. All them fools are super protective and territorial.”

“I’m just trying to figure out when ya’ll are gonna stop being selfish and slide one of them my way. It’s obvious they fertile as hell, so there’s gotta be an eligible cousin or uncle or something.”

It’s the fact you know that Lex is dead serious. Thankfully, Travis Porter comes on and that’s enough to bring all of ya’ll back to your feet like you’re 21 all over again. And that’s the dominant and recurring theme of the entire night: dancing, laughing, talking, Alexis being unhinged. 

Wash, rinse, repeat.

The four of you end up returning to the hotel shortly before midnight, the perfect time as somehow, the guys got all of the kids down for bed and were just waiting to make sure you all returned safely. 

Sitting around one of the hotel rooms, you all just chop it up, sharing various stories, no one really tired enough to call it a night.

“See, that’s the thing that people don’t realize. Ain’t a whole lot of difference between Joe and Roman. Uce been had that dog in him.” Jon starts off, sitting up as he explains. Somehow the topic landed on when they were growing up and how Joe’s always had “parts” of Roman in him. “Like one time when we was kids, we was playing a basketball game and he showed up late talking about “aye, let me join.” We tell him, ‘sorry man, we already started.’ He takes the ball, chucks it over in the neighbor's yard, talking about “ain’t nobody playing now.”

There’s a chorus of laughter, but your jaw drops open as you look at Joe, an easy task as you’re perched on his lap. “Did you really do that?” It’s almost inconceivable to see this man do something like that, especially as a child. “Joe, that was mean as hell.”

It’s the fact that he doesn’t deny it and simply shrugs. “Should have let me join in.”

Covering your mouth and shaking your head, you go to scold him for being such an ass, regardless of how long ago it was. But, Alexis soon adds in her two cents, looking your way. “I don’t know why you looking shocked and disappointed, you weren’t much better when we were in college.” She then directs her attention to the group. “So, we were cheerleaders, and Abby Lee Miller over here was a total nightmare during competition season.”

Gasping, you sit up, Joe’s big arm locked around your waist to keep you on him. “I was not.”

She rolls her eyes and takes a drink before admitting, “girl, I love you, but you were a bitch when you were in competition mode.” This is the first time you’re hearing this, so of course, it takes you by surprise. You won’t deny that you could be a bit…..intense during the season, but as captain, there was a shit ton of responsibility on your shoulders. Someone had to take the lead. “There’s a reason we had a whole group chat without you called, ‘Deliver us from Y/N’.”

“You had what?” This is news to you. As far as you were concerned, you had a great relationship with your teammates. It’s why your head coach let you take charge so much, especially in your junior and senior years. “Because I was doing my job?”

Alexis continues, ignoring your questions which is both annoying and predictable. She loves to tell a good story. “She’s the reason I’m hoping and praying Usher doesn’t perform More. It was the song for our Nationals routine, and when I tell you she was on us like goddamn slaves. That routine was hard as fuck, and she ain’t care one bit. It was hella good, like she choreographed the shit out of it, but it was so technical and draining. Bitches in the corner vomiting during practice, and she like ‘get a bucket and keep it pushing.’”

All eyes land on you, waiting for a response, but it’s hard to retort the truth, so you settle on justification. “Okay, that was their fault. I told ya’ll not to eat an hour before.”

Alexis claps her hands as everyone else around laughs. “I rest my case.”

“No wonder ya’ll go together so well,” Josh mutters, taking a drink of his beer. Kaylah slaps his arm but doesn’t say anything in disagreement. 

“What I’m hearing is it’s gon be a two night A&E special. First night? Surviving Joe. Second night? Surviving Y/N.”

Jon’s delivery is really what sells it. You can’t even hold back your laughter. Leaning back into Joe’s chest, you lift up both hands to flip them off. “Ya’ll not gon’ keep talking about my man.” Partially joking, partially serious, it’s not missed upon you how Joe’s deep chuckle in your ear is followed by his fingers innocently moving against the outside of your thigh. 

“You and your man was clearly out here terrorizing people,” Trinity laughs with a shake of her head. “That’s so crazy too, because you don’t give off that energy, Y/N.”

“I’ve calmed down a lot since I had my daughter.” And it’s the truth. Along with age and an extreme respect for your field along with your professional reputation. “But yeah, college Y/N…..she was something else. A little bit of high school as well, but mostly college.”

Alexis makes a sound and then blurts out, “tell em’ about the time you bust that stripper in the head with a bottle, and she had to get 75 stitches.”

Understandably so, there’s a round of shocked expressions and questions following Alexis so casually dropping one of the wildest experiences you had in college. 

You hear Jon ask something about if you have a criminal record, but it’s really Joe giving you that ‘you gon explain?’ look that makes you cave. 

“Oh lord, I can’t believe I’m about to tell this story.” You turn to Joe, warning. “You’re not allowed to hold it against me either.”

“Let me hear it first, and I’ll let you know after.” You know he’s joking, but still, you hit him on his arm. He’s supposed to hold you down, no matter what. Aggravated assault and all.

“Okay, so were at the strip club—”

Jon can’t help himself, asking, “damn, you got down like that?” 

He has no idea.

“You gotta remember, we were cheerleaders, so we spent a lot of time with the football and basketball teams. And they asses was always there, so we would tag along cause why not? I always had a good time. The food was good as hell too. Anyway, I was dating a football player at the time—”

Alexis slaps Joe on the arm. “She’s always had a type.”

“Yeah, ‘ain’t shit’, clearly.” You grab Joe’s jaw, clarifying. “Except for you, baby.” He mutters his approval, and you continue, “so, I was dating this dude, and he was cheating on me, which was fine. I wasn’t really into him anyway. But, turns out the girl he was cheating with was one of the strippers there and a classmate. I don’t know how the stupid bitch didn’t realize who I was before that night, but whatever. I guess she caught feelings for him or something and saw me as the problem? Mind you, I was dating him before he even started fucking her, but she called herself trying to step to me. And she was talking shit, which I didn’t necessarily care about because one thing I’ve never and will never do is fight over a man. Any fight I ever got into was because they said something about my mama or someone else I love.”

“How many fights you done—” Trinity elbows Jon who grunts and then mutters for you to keep going.

Chuckling, you do so, “so she calls me a bitch….okay, but then calls my mom a bitch, and at that point, I’m seeing red. Cause now my food is cold, I was about to get a lap dance that’s not gon’ happen cause now I gotta beat her ass, and all over some wack ass dick. But now she done bought my mama into it….absolutely not.” A beat. “I didn’t hit her first, because I never hit first, but I did say some slick shit that I knew would provoke her.” You decide to leave out exactly what you said given how graphic it was. “And she hit me, but then this other bitch joins in—”

“And that’s when I get involved,” Alexis chimes, raising her drink high and proud. “Because what you not gon do is jump my motherfucking best friend in front of me.”

Laughing, you continue, “so Alexis crazy ass is beating her friend, I’m on this girl, but then she calls herself trying to stab me with the heel of her shoe or something cause obviously I’m winning—”

“This some WorldStarHipHip shit if I ain’t ever heard—” Trinity hits Jon for his interruption and motions for you to continue going, clearly and deeply invested in the retelling of this wild ass night.

“I’m mixing on this bitch, cause one thing about me, I know how to fight. I just choose not to do it.” And it’s true. Fighting is a last resort, always has been for you, but make no mistake, you know how to throw down. “Anyway, I snatch the shoe out of her hand, grab this bottle of Hennesy I see near me and smash it over her head.”

“And it was lights out.” Alexis says dramatically. “That bitch was laid out like a crime scene. Patrick Star headass.”

Wiping the tears from your eyes from your laughter, you continue, “so someone calls the cops. They show up, and I’m starting to get nervous thinking she’s gonna press charges, because I bust her head open. She had to get stitches and everything. But I had made friends with the owner of the club—-that’s a whole other story—and basically, he refused to provide her with any video footage, made sure no one said anything about what happened, was friends with the cops, and they just chalked it up to a bunch of drunk girls being stupid. And I got off.” Clapping your hand to signify the end, you rest back against Joe. “The end.”

There’s a slightly understandable moment of silence before Kaylah calmly asks, “How drunk were you?”

That’s an easy answer. “Oh, I wasn’t drunk.”

“So….you did all that sober?” Trinity asks, like she needs to just make sure she’s following correctly. 

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ and look over at Joe who’s all of the emotions, primarily, amused, surprised, and strangely turned on. “Wild times.”

Jon is the first to speak after that. “Man, I always knew I liked you, Y/N. Your ass a little crazy, but I fucks with it.” 

Laughing, you explain. “You gotta keep in mind, I was like 19 at the time. I was young and definitely dumb in a lot of ways. I’ll be 32 this year and have grown a lot. I have zero desire to put my hands on anyone. I have a child and a career. I may be tempted, but I’m not going to actually do it.  I have too much to lose”

“And that’s why she has me.” Alexis lifts her drink. “I don’t have much to lose cause I’m rich enough to get off. Plus, she’s all boring now. You see how early we’re back. Back in the day, we’d club hop until like 4 in the morning. At least up until Junior year,” she gestures to you with her outstretched thumb. “That’s when this heifer had to get all studious on me.” 

“4.0, Summa Cum Laude.” You make a little pose and laugh. “I just got my shit together, and clearly….” you lean back to look at Joe. “ —it paid off.”

—----------

Obviously, you’ve never attended a professional football game, let alone the fucking Super Bowl, but even knowing that, you’re partially surprised by just how many damn people are there. It’s absolutely jam packed, and you’re suddenly grateful for the security detail that escorts the group of you to your seating area.

Joe holds Callie and keeps your hand in his which impacts you in a strange way that you can’t explain. This whole trip has been him being unabashedly open about you and Callie, and you’re starting to think that’s the part that’s still a bit difficult.

For three years, you felt like some secret he kept hidden and stored away, so to be so “displayed” so publicly is such a stark contrast you’re still trying to sit with. It’s not a bad adjustment, just an adjustment nonetheless. 

The section rented for the group is surprisingly spacious enough for everyone, and you and Kaylah immediately go delegating, having the kids all in the back rows with the men front and center to see the game they’ve been praying for all year. You knew Joe was a huge 49ers fan, hence your not being entirely surprised when you found a box at your apartment door with a bunch of 49ers apparel for you and Callie to pick from for the game. He also, in true Joe fashion, sent you both sneakers with the 49ers team colors of black, red, and gold. 

And one look at Callie as she interacts with her cousins, you can’t deny how adorable she looks, especially as they’re also sporting the apparel because of course his whole family are also fans. Granted, you can’t deny how adorable she looks all decked out like her daddy. You took a more subtle approach, agreeing to the letterman jacket and sneakers, combining them with the 49ers long sleeved crop top and stretch black pants.

There’s a lot of getting everyone settled and you warning Alexis not to make a damn fool of herself, which apparently she’s also dead set on. Something about needing to be ready to be either a consolation or celebration prize for whatever player she was going home with tonight. 

When the game starts though, it’s absolutely fascinating watching how intently focused the men are, not wanting to miss a single second. You’re suddenly really grateful you’d briefly spoke with Callie about how this game was very important to Joe, so his attention may not be on her as much as she wants but that’s okay because he’s just a little busy. She responded well, and you can see how helpful it is for her to be around not only other kids but her cousins.

The ease of their connection and ability to play together is something you’re so grateful for, so happy to see. It definitely makes you even more excited about moving, about her being closer to family. 

That thought reminds you to ask Joe when he wants to talk to Callie about that, about moving. It feels like something the two of you should do together. 

Ironically, you’ve never really been a huge football person, so your interest in the game and who wins is pretty slim to none. You’re there for a good time and, most importantly, Usher’s performance. Kaylah seems to be on a similar wavelength, so while the rest are deeply invested in arguably the most important game of the year, you two engage in casual dialogue. 

She gives you some much appreciated tips on the area, specifically regarding school systems and other resources for Callie. She mentions a dance school her daughter also attends classes at, and that immediately catches your attention cause Callie has given some indications she wants to do ballet. And while you have your reservations, it’s mostly been because of financial reasons.

Not that daddy warbucks over there won’t handle that for you. 

There’s also a lot of photos and videos that get taken to commemorate this moment. Most of which are headed by life of the party, Alexis. You’re grateful though, happy to have her here. She even catches your attention when Callie maneuvers her way over to Joe, tugging on his pants leg for him to pick her up. You start to bring her back by you, but you end up watching Joe pull her up, kissing her cheek as he patiently tries to explain the game to her.

It brings a warm smile on your face, and you use your phone to snap a photo of them. It’s from behind, but the lighting, the way Joe is pointing and Callie following his line of vision, there’s something about it so wholesome and moving.

You set it as your lock screen. 

By the time halftime rolls around, the men are all in great moods given their team is so far dominating. However, you and the rest of the ladies present are in a great mood for entirely different reasons. 

The minute you hear the opening chords of Caught Up, you’re in a completely different world, similar to the happy space of attending concerts in your teens and college days. Alexis is definitely your number one hype woman, but really, Trin and Kaylah are just as lit. The guys are definitely enjoying the show as well, but Usher has been that man for you, so he’s your only focus. 

It only gets exponentially better, and the minute he starts to perform Yeah joined by both Lil John and Ludacris, you and Alexis are shouting out every single damn word of Luda’s iconic verse. 

It’s definitely a moment you’ll absolutely never forget.

Unfortunately, the halftime show seems to be a bit of a climax as the third quarter progresses, and the tide seems to start turning in favor of the Chiefs. Similarly, it’s not missed upon you how the younger kids seem to be slowing down. Callie is definitely ready for bed and understandably so. It’s been a long day and is way past her bedtime. After a brief discussion with Joe and Josh, it’s decided that you and Kaylah will take the younger kids back to the hotel, especially since you both have very little interest in how the game plays out but respect the guys needing to stay. 

And Alexis wild ass most definitely stays behind for….obvious reasons.

Joe, of course, doesn’t let you and Callie leave without a hug, kiss, and telling you both he loves you. A tradition of sorts now, definitely one you’ll never get tired of.

Security escorts the smaller group of you to your vehicles, and by the time you’ve reached the hotel, the younger kids are tapped out. You manage to get Callie out of her clothes, into her jammies, and bonnet on her head before she passes out in her bed. 

Kaylah has a similar experience with her kids, the two of you plopping down on the sofa together. 

“I hope they pull the win. I don’t know if you’ve ever been around Joe when the 49ers lose, but he’s not pleasant. None of them are.”

“I get it,” you chuckle. “I’d be pissed if I paid all that money to see my team lose too.”

“At least we had our good time seeing Usher’s fine ass.”

Laughing, you slap hands with her. “I know that’s right!”

As the laughter dies down, Kaylah gives you an earnest smile. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I really am glad you came on this trip. I’ve heard both the twins and especially Joe speak so highly of you, and they definitely weren’t wrong. More importantly, I think you’re really good for Joe. I haven’t seen him as happy as he is with you and Callie since we were in high school, really.”

“Can I be honest with you about something?” Her kind words make you feel comfortable enough to be forthcoming with her. “I was a bit nervous you wouldn’t like me.”

Her eyes widen. “Me? Why?”

“I guess…..I worried you would feel a sense of loyalty to Joe’s ex-wife, and given how we got together…..

She nods. “I can understand that, but…if I’m being honest with you, I’ve probably had more meaningful interactions with you in these two days than I did in all of the time they were together. Don’t get me wrong, Jadah was super nice and chill, but she never really interacted with us like that. She mostly kept to herself.”

“What was the deal with their marriage?” It feels a bit off asking her, but given she’s known them for so long, she of all people would be the person to ask. “I know….I know he told me they only got married because she was pregnant and that….that she miscarried.”

It’s when you say that she gives you a strange look. “Y/N…..they didn’t have a miscarriage.” Before the shock fully wears off and you can ask her what happened then, she explains in an understandably sad tone. “It was….it was a stillbirth. She was 8 months pregnant.”

Your stomach…drops. That….that’s not what you expected to leave her mouth. Not at all.

Thinking back to that brief conversation with Joe, he never really specified what happened. Just made sure you knew Callie didn’t have a sibling. You’d just assumed a miscarriage is what happened. 

But a stillbirth….your brain can’t even begin to comprehend the heartbreak they must have experienced. To be in a headspace that you’re welcoming your first child for the better part of a year only to have it so cruelly ripped away in such a horrific manner….it’s devastating.

“I didn’t….”

“He didn’t tell you?” You shake your head, and she offers a sad smile. “I’m not surprised. Joe seems very open with you and obviously trusts you a lot, but that….I know that messed him up real bad.” 

Just like finding out he’d missed out on almost five years of Callie’s life. You’re starting to understand more and more why he came at you so hard initially, it was more than warranted but most likely pulling from his prior trauma as well. 

Kaylah continues, explaining gently, “I don’t know…I don’t know if it’s a good idea to push him too much on discussing it, YN. He’s never even really talked about it to the twins, and they tell each other everything. I’m sure he’s never fully processed it. Then again, I don’t know how you can ever process something like that.”

Hearing this has suddenly entirely soured your mood, and you have no ill feelings toward Kaylah. Just the opposite. You’re grateful she felt comfortable enough to be honest with you. You just wish the truth didn’t have you with this dull ache in your chest.

—----------

The 49ers loss hits you harder for reasons completely different than actual fans. It makes you sad for Joe, a sentiment you were already struggling with, to be honest.

Anticipating he’ll be looking for some sort of distraction, especially with Callie knocked out for the night, you try to get your shower finished before he makes it back to the hotel. It’s a wasted effort, because not only does he make it back before then, but he scares the hell out of you when his hulking frame joins you from behind under the steaming hot water. 

But before a single word can leave your mouth, his lips are on you, and you know instantly that he plans to take his emotions out on you in the only way that’s most appropriate. 

Fucking.

Joe fucks you against the shower wall, on the bathroom counter, in the exact way you promised him the night before but couldn’t follow through on because you were tired. He’s rough, rougher than you’ve had him in a while, and while it’s exactly what you wanted, it also saddens you that you know he’s disappointed. 

It’s just a game, yes, but there’s something about a loss at this level that makes it hit deeper. It also doesn’t help that you were already feeling a tremendous amount of empathy toward him after finding out about his loss. 

Body completely used and thoroughly fucked, the end of your sexscapade finds you both, naked and worn out. Your body is draped upon his as his finger moves around lazily across your back.

It’s a comfortable silence when he asks, “was I too rough with you?”

Lifting your head, you give him the strangest look. How long has it been since ya’ll really fucked? He’s clearly forgotten how you get down. “Did you seriously just ask me that? This is me, Joe..” Laying your head back on his chest, you remind him of your only rules in the bedroom. “Unless I’m bleeding or passed out, never too rough.”

Laughing, he flicks your arm as you kiss his shoulder. Changing gears a bit, his expression softens. “Thank you for coming, for bringing her.” 

“You never have to thank me for that.” You remind, because it’s the truth. You’d escort Callie to Siberia if that’s where he was. “But we do need to figure out when we’re gonna talk to her about moving.”

He seems to also remember this is a thing, asking, “how do you think she’ll feel?”

You have to take a second to think about his question. It’s something you’ve definitely considered. Callie has only known your town. That’s her home. What would it be like to uproot her? You finally settle on the best, honest answer you can muster. “I think she’ll be a little sad to leave her preschool friends, definitely my mom but what she wants more than anything is to be a family, so she’ll be happy.”

“Does she know we’re together?”

“I—I don’t know actually.” It’s not really something you’ve thought about until this very moment, just kinda assumed that it was a given. “Well, shit, maybe we should tell her that too.” 

He chuckles. “I’m sure she’s probably put two and two together.”

“Probably so.” Callie is definitely one smart cookie, and it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume she’s realized you and Joe are dating. “Oh, and going back to moving, it’s Florida. Disney is in Florida. That’ll definitely be a selling point for her.”

Joe’s hand moves up and down your side, soothingly. “We’re going the week of her birthday, by the way.” 

Peeking up at him, you double check what’s really obvious but also still so surreal. “To Disney?”

“Yeah.” 

“They let you off for a whole week?” That’s a stunner, for certain. “Coming off a Wrestlemania win? Damn, just how heavy is your pull now?” 

“What?” He seems confused by your question, like he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. And that’s puzzling to you because there’s nothing confusing about what you’re asking. You know enough about WWE to know how this works. He’s gonna retain at WrestleMania and be subsequently thrust deep in promos and segments. “Oh yeah….I’ve got it handled.”

Waiting for more is a waste of time with this man. He can be so coy sometimes. “You’re not gonna tell me anything more, are you?”

“Nope.” 

“Ass.” His elusive behavior is becoming both familiar and given but still annoying nonetheless. Regardless, you take your turn, switching topics a bit. “Have I told you how proud of you I am? Cause I am. So so proud of you, Joe. I always knew you could do it.” You lift up, biting down on your bottom lip as you push some of his hair back. “You’re gonna hold the record for most main events at Wrestlemania. Beating Hulk’s record. Thee fucking Hulk Hogan. And once you whoop Ken doll’s ass, you’re gonna have the third longest title reign in WWE history. Do you know how amazing that is?”

His hand is on your hip, making soft circles. “It’s not everything….”

Scoffing, you dismiss his dismissal. That is quite literally everything he ever told you he wanted. “The hell it isn’t. I remember every conversation we ever had about this, Leati. Your worries. Your hopes. Your dreams. This is what you’ve always wanted and worked your whole life for.” He’d always been so open and vulnerable about where he ultimately wanted his career to go, the burning desire he had to make it happen, and to see him do just that means the world to you. It should mean the world to him.

But there’s something off about his tone, and you can’t quite make out if it’s because he’s still reeling from the loss or something else. It almost feels like everything you’re saying is going in one ear and out the other because it no longer means that much to him. You know that can’t be the case. Not with how long he’s been grinding and working his ass off. 

His tone and expression are both appreciative as he shares, “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much your support meant to me. You always knew the right thing to say.”

You lean down to kiss him, nice and slow. “I’m just really good at that shit.” Biting down on your bottom lip, you slowly start to snake your hand down his chest. “I’m really good at a lot of shit actually.” Whatever is bothering him, you know one way to help.

A really really good way.

Chuckling, his jaw clenches when you try to wrap your hand around him, fingers unable to connect from his width. He’s already hard for you. “You lock the door?”

You’ve never been so grateful for hotel rooms with bedroom doors that lock.

“Of course.” There’s no time wasted in moving so that you’re on top of him, reaching to align him just right so you can sink down on your favorite pastime. 

“My turn….”

—----------

Someone knocking on your door, loudly, at 11am, just hours after you land back in town wasn’t on your agenda for the day.

You, Callie, and Alexis caught an early morning flight that was difficult for everyone giving how crazy busy the weekend was, but especially for Callie who was already sad at having to say bye to her dad again and was still tired from lack of adequate sleep. 

You’re especially happy you chose to take today off and keep Callie home from preschool. You definitely need time to recover.

But life has a way of lifing. You’re immediately annoyed, looking beside you to see that Alexis is also stirring in her sleep, mumbling something about ‘fuck off.’ Sighing loudly, you stare at the ceiling, almost ready to leave whoever it is outside. But then they knock again, and you know this isn’t someone you can avoid. 

Even if you’re very tempted. Reaching for a robe, you pull it on and tie it around your wait, sliding your slippers on to make your way to the front door. Not even bothering to look through the peephole, you rip it open, ready to curse someone out when you see who it is.

Alyssa’s striking blue eyes are the first thing you noticed followed by the shine of the police badge attached to Officer Austin’s uniform. 

Why the hell is a police officer and one of the town’s social worker at your door?

“Hi….” You have to clear your voice, sleep weighing it down with coarse grit. “Is…is everything alright?” Panic briefly sets in. “Is it one of my students?”

This is the part of being a teacher that guts you, when a child is being harmed or at risk of being harmed and you have to make a call that does both a lot of good and a lot of bad. Alyssa has been the social worker you’ve worked with the most, but this is definitely the first time she’s come to your house about a case.

“Y/N…..” Her expression is grim, and you realize quickly that whatever it is is not good. Not good at all. “We received a report against you.”

“A report?” Your hand is gripping the door so tightly, you’re certain splinters are going to embed themselves into the pads of your fingers. But it’s a much better feeling than what’s starting to grow in the pit of your stomach. “What—what kind of report?”

There’s hesitation, and you understand why when she clarifies. “An immediate danger report.” 

“No.” Your stomach drops. “Alyssa, you can’t—-you can’t be serious.”

Your head is absolutely spinning. This…this can’t be right. A social worker and police officer cannot be standing at your door saying that someone called DCFS on you and made a report that not only is Callie in danger, but she’s in immediate danger. 

You’ve had the unfortunate experience of being the one to make reports, working plenty with Alyssa and the local police to navigate these cases. And it’s in that experience you’ve learned the definition of an immediate danger report and what it requires.

The immediate removal of a child from the accused home and custody.

They want to take Callie from you. 

Officer Austin speaks in an equally sympathetic tone. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ve known you since you were a little girl, and this makes me sick to my stomach. I hate it. I know it’s all lies and a waste of time and resources, but you know the law. We have to—“

However, you’re focused on Alyssa as you know the police are only brought along in case the situation becomes hostile. You have no desire to get physical with law enforcement, but you will get down on your hands and knees if that’s what it takes to keep your baby with you. “Please don’t do this. Alyssa, you know me—“

“I do, and that’s why I arranged where she’ll be released to your mom for custody and I got a hearing scheduled with the judge for you on Wednesday. It’ll only be three days—” If it wasn’t for the pending mental breakdown, you’d be more appreciative. You’d much rather Callie be sent to stay with your mom instead of put in emergency foster care.

You’re not sure if you’d be able to live with that. 

“Oh my god…..” You feel like you’re going to pass out, suddenly aware of Alexis' presence as she too asks more questions about what’s going on and who made this report. She’s, understandably, pissed. But, her last question is a no brainer. 

There’s only one person you know who would have a motive to do something like this.

“Three days without speaking or seeing my child! You know how attached she is to me, Alyssa!” It’s also in your experience with these types of situations that you know zero communication is allowed between the child and parent being accused until the emergency court hearing takes place. 

Three days without being able to speak to Callie….pain like this should never be allowed to be experienced. It’s a nightmare turned into reality. 

She truly looks remorseful, and you know she finds this just as ridiculous as you. “My hands are tied Y/N.”

Voice low, you finally ask, “what are the accusations?” If an answer was given to Alexis, you didn’t hear it, and regardless. You need to ask for yourself.

“Y/N.”

You repeat, no room for argument or refusal in your tone. “What…are the accusations, Alyssa?”

She swallows, answering in a low tone. “Child endangerment. Specifically….you’ve been accused of leaving Callie unintended to meet men for sex, and the accusation that made it immediate danger….is that you plan to prostitute Callie.”

It takes everything in you not to projectile vomit right on the spot, as you move your hand to your stomach, bent over. There aren’t enough words to describe your disgust and revulsion. 

Alyssa starts to provide more basic information regarding getting Callie back, but it's a waste of time.

You know this. You’re more than well aware of how this process works. Just never in a million years did you think you’d be involved in one of your own.

Absolutely defeated and crushed, you ask, “let me talk to her first, please.”

“Of course.” 

Alexis stays behind to follow up with additional questions that you’re partially paying attention to, but the majority of your focus is on staying upright. You could throw up and pass out on cue at this very moment. That’s how overwhelmed you feel, but the second your shaking hand opens Callie’s door, it’s an even bigger battle.

She’s still sleeping. 

Your sweet, innocent child is still sleeping, probably trying to recover from all the festivities from this weekend. And you have to wake her up. You have to wake her up to undoubtedly break her heart.

“Oh God…..” Hand on your stomach, you take three, big, deep breaths to settle your nervous system. Callie can’t see how much of a wreck you are. That’s only going to make it worse.

Sitting on the side of her bed, you clench and unclench your hands to minimize the shaking before gently pushing on her shoulder. “Calista, baby, I need you to get up.” It takes a couple of times, as you knew it would because you know your child like the back of your hand. The child who you would never do anything to endanger or any of the other egregious accusations made against you resulting in this nightmare.

Eyes blinking open, you chuckle at the pout on her face.

“I’m sleepy, mommy….”

“I know, baby.” You clear your throat, playing off the way emotion catches you, almost exposing the seriousness of this moment. “But…mommy needs you to get up. You….you’ve gotta go by grandma, okay?”

She looks at you, still with that pout and very much still partially sleep. “Can we go later?”

“No, baby. I—” This is inarguably one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. “I can’t go with you.”

And this is when you see her pout deepen. “Why?”

“Callie….” Hand on her face, you try to ignore the sound of your heart shattering. “You’re not gonna see mommy or be able to talk to me for a couple days, baby.”

And you knew, you knew before even opening your mouth that her eyes would begin to water that telling her this harsh but necessary truth would cause the reaction you’re starting to see. Her face is reddening, mouth dropped into a permanent frown.

It tears you apart to do this to her. “Baby, please don’t cry. It’s only for three days and—and you’ll have grandma, and—and auntie Alexis will visit you, and I’ll make sure daddy talks to you as often as he can—”

“But what about you? You’re my mommy.” She rubs at her eyes, crying harder. “Why are you leaving me?”

Pulling her into your chest, you swear to her, “listen to me, Callie, I will never ever leave you. Okay? The…the people who make sure little kids like you are safe and taken care of just want to make sure I’m a good mommy to you, o-okay?”

“But you’re the best mommy,” she cries into you, and a sob leaves your throat at that. Callie’s heartfelt tears, the fear and confusion in her little voice. It rips your heart to shreds. You hold her as long as you can before helping her get dressed and

gather a little backpack with a few items. 

You know she already has mostly everything she’ll need at your mom’s already.

Everything except you. 

Alyssa allows you to hold her as you walk down to the police car, but it’s when Officer Austin opens the door and Callie begins to cry, asking him, “please don’t take me from my mommy!” that you break again.

It’s impossible to keep your composure with your four-year-old child begging not to be taken from you. Pulling it together, you kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, reminding her that you love her, and that you’ll see her again before she knows it. It’s the best you can do, it’s the only thing you can do. 

Setting her down on the ground, you crouch in front of her, placing both hands on her cheeks. “Ms. Alyssa and this nice officer are gonna bring you to grandma right now, okay? I promise I’m gonna get you as soon as I can, baby, and no one will ever take you away from me again, okay?” 

She doesn’t say anything, face still full of heartbreak. She hugs you again, holding on tight. “I love you, mommy.”

Voice cracking, you whisper, “I love you too, baby.”

Eventually finding the strength, you break away and stand up to see Alyssa wiping a tear from her eyes. She then forces a sad smile and takes Callie’s hand, leading her into the back of the police car. Even being buckled in, you see Callie continuing to look back at you, sadness morphing with helplessness. 

And that’s the last view you’ll have of your daughter, looking hopeless and confused as to why this is happening. 

But you know exactly why this is happening. 

And you know exactly what you need to do.

“Y/N…..” 

Alexis watery eyes are a brief view you have before dashing up the stairs and throwing open your apartment door. Shaking hands manage to grab you car keys off the kitchen island as you head back for the front door only to find that you can’t march out because Alexis is standing in front of the door. 

“Move out my way, Alexis.” 

“Y/N. You’re upset. Okay—”

Snapping, you shout at her. “Move! Now!”

She doesn’t hesitate to match your energy. “Not until you fucking calm down!”

Snapping, you scream. “She just got my child taken away from me, Alexis! Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m gonna smash her fucking face in!”

Never…..never in a million years did you think Mariah could be capable of something like this. That she could be evil as to call DCFS on you, make up lies so horrific that it sickens you to even think about them, and have your child ripped away from you. Damn what this has done to you. What about Callie? Was she even thinking about how traumatic this would be for Callie?

She’ll be thinking about it when you stomp her head into the fucking pavement.

“Hey! You have every right to be upset, okay? But, this is probably what she wants! She knows they’re not gonna find anything on you, but you go over there and beat her ass, it puts the spotlight on you and then gives them a basis to question your fitness.” Alexis is such a sound voice of reason right now, but it’s hard to heed when your literal heart has just been ripped from your fucking body. “You need to focus on doing what you need to do to get Callie back, okay? Call Joe—”

Joe.

You hadn’t….you hadn’t even thought about him. How can you explain this to him? Explain to him that your child, the child he just found out about not even six months ago is now technically in custody of DCFS because of your friend. Is that even forgivable? Beyond that, how crushing is that going to be for him?

Eyes watering, you shake your head, volume a few octaves lowered. You feel like you’re about to have a panic attack. “No, I can’t—-I can’t tell him.”

Alexis steps to you, placing her hands on your face, centering you. “Yes, you can, and you will. He needs to know, and you need support right now. I’m here for you, of course, but that’s the man you love. You need him.” Her expression then darkens. “And don’t you worry about Mariah. I got that hoe. Believe that. You don’t have to put a hand on her. Imma do it for you.” 

Alexis words do both everything and nothing for you. Granted, you’re not sure if anything will be substantial enough short of having your child returned to your custody or all of this being some sick joke. 

You’re not even sure when Alexis walks away to grab your phone until she’s reaching it to you. “Call him, sweetie. I promise you he’s not going to blame you. He’s going to be upset for the same reasons you are: because this is all bullshit. But please, Y/N, just….call this man.”

Finally taking the phone, she nods with a small smile. She then goes to remove her earrings and pull back her hair. “I’m gonna go curb stump this hoe.”

Alexis goes to the back, and you just stare at your phone. You once thought calling Joe to tell him about Callie’s existence would be one of the hardest phone calls you would ever have to make. 

God, you were so wrong. 

Trembling fingers tap on the phone to bring up his contact, and with tears streaming down your face, you hit call.

Whether for better or worse, he doesn’t answer, forcing you to leave a voicemail message. 

“Hey.” It’s a fruitless and meritless effort to keep your voice strong when you feel anything but. “I–I need you to call me as soon as you get a chance….please.” Hitting end, both you and the phone drop on the floor. On your knees, you finally release the sob you’d been holding in for the past twenty minutes. Moments later, Alexis is besides you, comforting you.

Not that it does any good. 

There is no good left.

Only pain.

[navybrat817]

What Happens in Vegas

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas. Word Count: Over 2.8k Warnings: Drinking, drunk wedding, accidental marriage, supernatural element, dubcon elements, soft!dark vibes, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I wasn't able to get all 4 birthday stories done, but I hope you lovelies enjoy the ones I plan to share. Here's 1 of 2! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer as well for letting me scream about this. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The fluorescent lights of the strip flashed as you stumbled along the sidewalk. Fast paced and surreal, the city that never sleeps offered a little something for everyone. Entertainment, architecture, adventure. While your intention for the evening was to grab a drink with some friends and nothing more, you decided to do something bolder. Crazier. Because what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, right?

“Goin’ to the chapel and we’re… gonna get maaaaaaried,” you sang, squinting as your guy, date, whoever he was, helped steady you. “Who or what was your name again? Randy?”

“That’s not my name. It’s-”

“Randy. ‘Cause you’re a rando,” you declared, making him laugh.

Forgetting the guy’s name should’ve been your first clue to call it a night and go back to your hotel. Randy was cute enough though and bought all of you drinks. When you told him most of your friends were hitched or close to getting married while you were still single, he joked that he’d marry you.

“Fuck it! Let’s get married!”

Which was how you found yourself on his arm heading to a chapel.

Your second clue to go back to your room should’ve been that none of your friends stopped you. Not a single one told you to stay or offered to go with you, which was strange. Not that each of you hadn’t done stupid stuff before. Letting you go off with a stranger though? In an unfamiliar city?

Bitches. All of them. Noooooo. I love my girlfriends. They’re just DRUNK, like me.

You did feel sad for a second. While your friends all had family who would’ve thrown a fit if they eloped or married a stranger, you didn’t. Your dad would never give you away. Your mom wouldn’t wipe her tears as she heard you say your vows. So who cared what you did?

You sure as hell didn’t.

“Here,” Randy said, pulling you toward a door. “This place is supposed to be really nice.”

“OOOOOOOOH. Reeeeeeeally nice,” you said, gasping once you stepped inside.

You expected cheesy decor to smack you in the face, but instead found yourself in a luxurious entryway. Sparkles of gold lined the sleek floor and walls all the way up to the high ceilings. The art depicted landscapes you only had the pleasure of seeing in dreams. The room almost had a glow to it.

Or maybe it's the alcohol blurring my vision.

A voluptuous redhead walked through a set of doors to greet you. Her heels didn’t make a sound as she glided across the floor. Glancing at Randy, you caught him adjusting the front of his pants. Was he drooling? You found it amusing rather than let it upset you.

“Welcome to the Enchanted Valley where all your dreams come true. My name is Natalia. How may I help you this evening?”

“We’re getting married,” Randy answered, though he didn’t glance at you.

“Is that so?” she asked, tilting her head as she turned her attention to you. The gold from the walls sparkled in her eyes as she waited for your confirmation.

Swaying a little, you gave her a two finger salute. “That is so,” you answered before you added, “Do you also do annulments?”

Snorting, she gestured behind her. “Before we get started, you must be at least 18 years old, must not be currently married, must not be kin, and I’ll need to see a government form of identification. As long as that’s clear, you’re free to proceed with your ceremony. Do you have witnesses?"

“No ‘cause my bitchy friends didn’t come here. I don’t even have flowers,” you said, hiccuping a little. “Don’t tell them I call them that. I love them soooooooooo much.”

“That’s just fine. I’ll ask James and Wanda if they wouldn’t mind witnessing this…” Natalia tried to find the word as her eyes darted between you. “Blessed union.”

Randy followed Natalia like a lost puppy into the chapel as he struggled to get his wallet out. “You single?”

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. “Why am I doing this?” you mumbled, swaying as you dug your wallet out. “Why didn’t I just get a tattoo or something?”

“Because a ring on your finger is easier to remove than ink on your skin.”

“Holy fucking… fuck,” you said as you looked up. “Where did you come from, you… gorgeous specimen?”

You understood why Randy practically eye-fucked Natalia since you were doing the same with the man in front of you. His steel blue eyes reflected the gold of the room the same way the redhead’s had and you were scared you’d fall into an abyss if you stared for too long. His light brown hair had to be the softest you’d ever seen. If you had to guess, he was at least 6’4” with a broad chest and shoulders and didn’t have the audacity to button up his shirt.

Is his left arm made out of gold? Or is it painted gold? How drunk am I? Would Randy object to me giving this god of a man the ride of his life?

“I’m James,” he said, the timbre of his voice causing your knees to wobble as he held up a bouquet of colorful flowers. “I’ll be one of the witnesses for this blessed union.”

“Nothing blessed about it. I don’t even know the guy. But he said he’d marry me and I said ‘fuck it,” you giggled, taking a step forward. Your shoe caught on nothing. Nothing. You just fell forward.

And the beautiful man caught you in his embrace.

“Careful, beautiful,” he said as he helped you stand upright and placed the flowers in your hand. His touch warmed you as he ran his hands along your bare arms. “You would marry a stranger then? With no friends or family here?”

“You smell really good. How do you smell so good?” You said, putting a hand on his chest with a grin. “Friends are busy and I have no family.”

His brows furrowed and you wondered how pathetic you sounded. You weren’t looking for pity. “Did he give you any token of affection?”

“Mmmmm. You know, he didn’t. We don’t have rings or anything.”

James traced a finger along your cheek. “And he dares to call himself a man,” he whispered, tutting when you leaned into his touch. “Doesn’t seem like he's fit to marry such a delectable creature.”

Eat me up, James.

“It’s okay,” you said, hoping the sad feelings of alcohol weren’t about to hit you. It sucked being alone and you knew you’d come to regret this later, but who cared about tonight? “Do you have gold streaks in your hair? Why are you so pretty? It’s like you’re not even REAL.”

“I’m very real, beautiful,” he smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth as your cheeks got hot. “Do I have the pleasure of knowing your full name?”

“My full name? So formal,” you teased, giving it to him without hesitation as you ran your fingers through his hair. You should’ve asked permission before touching his soft hair. You shouldn’t have touched him at all. But logic left your mind the moment you stepped into the city.

James closed his eyes as he repeated your name, making it sound erotic and sensual. You liked hearing it on his tongue. “You will not marry him,” he whispered, opening his eyes. A ring of gold surrounded his pupils before it went away. Maybe one of the girls slipped a little something into your drink to help you relax more.

Whatever it is, I want more of it.

“Tell you what,” you smiled, booping his nose with a giggle. “If you object with good reason, I won’t marry Randy Rando. Deal?”

James smirked after a moment, a darkness clouding his eyes as he stepped back to shake your hand. “Deal.”

Before you shook it, you noticed a gold ring on the floor by his foot. Did he drop it? “Is that yours?” you said, crouching down to grab it. It wasn’t very dignified how your dress rode up, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Here.”

He didn’t take it from you. “It is mine, but do you not wish to keep it?”

You frowned, confused as you glanced at the band. It had some sort of lettering around the solitaire diamond that you didn’t recognize. “This isn’t ‘finders keepers’. It’s yours. It’s nice, but it’s rude of me to take it.”

With a low hum, he accepted the ring back. “There aren’t many who would return something of value,” he said, slipping it on his right pinky finger. “You have a giving heart.”

“Oh, it… It was nothing,” you said, shrugging a little to hide how badly you wanted to preen at his compliment.

I’m really acting like I’ve never seen a good looking guy before.

He kept an intense gaze on you as he slipped a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a small stone. It would’ve looked like a normal pebble if not for the gold speckles. “I know this may not look special, but would you take this as a token for giving my ring back?”

Whaaaaaaaat?

“Um. Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” you said, tucking the stone into your purse before you selected a flower from your bouquet. “Would you accept this from me?” you asked, wanting to do something nice.

A pleased look crossed his face as he took the flower and inhaled. Your head spun a little. Something felt different, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Thank you,” he said, running his teeth along his bottom lip as he fixed the bottom of your dress. “You really are the most beautiful bride.”

“And you, James, you beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, god of a man, will make the hottest groom when you get married.”

“Hey!” Randy shouted from the chapel when James opened his mouth. “We doing this or what?”

Oh, yeah.

“Wish me luck!” you said, giggling as you went through the doors and not looking back to see if he followed. “Wow.”

It was as if you stepped into an enchanted forest. The colors of the room were lush and welcoming, a blend of evergreen and sage. Flickering fairy lights and flowers adorned the dark brown pues. Natalia stood in front of Randy and a slender woman you didn’t recognize sat on his side of the chapel. The lights were playing tricks on you again when she looked at you, her eyes a flash of red as she smiled.

That must be Wanda. And I’m never drinking again.

“Ready?” Randy questioned when you got to the end of the aisle.

How romantic.

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged, looping your arm with his as you held your bouquet. “Take it away, Natalia.”

“Dearly beloved,” she began.

Truthfully, you didn’t pay much attention to the ceremony as Natalia spoke. You didn’t question that she hadn’t looked at your identification card or confirmed anything else she named off. It probably wasn’t a real wedding ceremony. You weren’t going to be Mrs. Randy Rando.

Not when James is here. Wait, what?

“If there are no objections,” Natalia spoke, glancing over your shoulder. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I object,” James announced behind you, making you cover your mouth as you giggled. He did say he’d object with good reason. You wondered what he’d come up with.

“On what grounds?” Natalia asked, smirking as if she expected him to interrupt.

“Because she’s my wife,” he answered.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?!” You laughed louder as you spun around, falling against Randy with wide eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked, barely holding you upright.

James walked down the aisle toward you, a gold shine covering him from head to toe. Pointy ears stuck out through his hair and his eyes had a hypnotic glow as he smiled at you, his teeth sharper than before. He looked like a beautiful nightmare.

Ready to eat you up.

“You can see me as I really am, beautiful, can’t you?” He asked, a melodic lift in his tone that was both sinister and alluring. “Glamour doesn’t work on mates.”

...the fuck?

“M-Mates? We’re mates? What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at Randy for help. His eyes had a glossy glaze to them, like he wasn’t seeing you. Was he in shock? Did he know what was going on? “Dude, snap out of it. Look at his gold skin! And his pointy ears!”

“She can see you,” Natalia said with pride. “Congratulations, Bucky. You’re finally married.”

“Thank you, Natasha,” James smiled, waving a hand at Randy. His nails looked sharp enough to claw through his skin. “Get rid of him. He’s crowding my bride.”

“I’m… I’m way too drunk for this,” you mumbled, your knees giving out. With unnaturaul speed, he made his way to the end of the aisle and caught you.

“Hey! That’s my…” Randy looked confused as he blinked. “Well, she's not my girlfriend, but. Huh?”

“No, she isn’t your girlfriend. She’s my wife. And when you wake up tomorrow, you won’t remember being here,” he said, nodding over to Wanda. “I’d wipe your memory myself, but I’m not letting my mate go.”

“The fuck are you…” he trailed off when Wanda waved her hand, a ball of red light floating in front of his face.

“You sleep now,” she said as the light touched his forehead, not bothering to brace his fall as he collapsed.

“What the hell?” You slurred as Natalia grabbed his ankles to drag him out of the chapel, Wanda on her heel.

“I wouldn’t worry about him since you accepted my hand in marriage,” James said, touching your cheek with a fond smile. “I’m sorry for not courting you longer, but we didn’t exactly have much time, did we?”

“We’re not married,” you argued.

“By Fae law, we are,” he explained as your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Did he say Fae? “You returned something of value to me that I dropped, which was you saying ‘yes’ to my marriage proposal.”

“No,” you whispered. That couldn’t be true.

“You accepted my token of my affection, which was me pledging myself as your husband. And you gave me a token of affection in return, which was you pledging yourself as my wife.”

The stone. The flower. No. Fucking. Way.

“I don’t understand,” you whimpered as he propped you up in his arms.

“I wanted a bride, so I came here. You’d be surprised how much of my kind has infiltrated this city. We do love our realm, but your people are so easy to manipulate,” he said, gesturing to the room. “Gambling, drinking, strippers, quick weddings. You just throw your hard-earned money away like it’s meaningless. Your currency goes a long way where I’m from.”

“I want to go home,” you said as he tightened his hold on you, even stronger than he looked.

“You didn’t see me at the bar tonight, but I saw you. I knew you were destined for me,” he continued happily as if you didn’t say anything. “And when he suggested marrying you on a whim, I made sure your friends didn’t try to stop you and that your path led here. Don't worry. They're safe. I wouldn't harm them.”

Who is he? What is he?

You shook your head, surprised that you hadn’t gotten sick from how your stomach turned. “I’m not your wife,” you said, trembling when his entire body began to glow.

“You are not just my wife. You are my queen. Even if you hadn’t accepted my token of affection, I wouldn’t have let you marry someone whose name wasn’t worth remembering. You’re mine,” he said through his teeth, angry at you denying him before he took a breath. “My poor bride. A woman with no family and friends who don’t look out for her. You have me now. And you’ll be happy by my side.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping by some miracle a bit of pain would wake you up. But the creature who called himself your husband wasn’t going away. “This is a bad dream,” you whispered, as if lying to yourself would help.

“Oh, my love,” he said in false comfort. “There are no bad dreams in the Enchanted Valley. And this isn’t the Vegas you know where you can simply write this off as a mistake. There is no divorce in my world. Well, your world now.”

“James, please,” you begged as your heart pounded.

“We’re married now, beautiful. Call me Bucky,” he smiled, smothering your protest with a kiss. Heat spread along your lips and flowed through your veins, wrapping around your heart like a vice. It was enough to suffocate you, but fate wasn’t ready to claim your life yet. “Now sober up. We have a honeymoon to start.”

I couldn't tag Bucky as "fae" without giving some of the surprise away! This idea was inspired by @adayka's beautiful art here. Maybe we can revisit this new couple down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[doc-pickles]

waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (p. 2)

series masterlist

summary: the hughes-tkachuk family thanksgiving dinner from hell

warnings: mentions vomiting

a/n: here’s part two of my matty fic! hope y’all enjoy :)

xoxo

nina

Your parents' living room is loud and boisterous as everyone mills around for an early Thanksgiving dinner. The dinner had been a Hughes-Tkachuk tradition for as long as you could remember, but this year your stomach rolled uneasily at the thought of having to sit at a table and lie to everyone at it.

“Did the annulment go through?”

Matthew’s voice makes you jump as you turn to face him. His stubble has grown out into the beginnings of a beard and you can’t deny it’s a good look on him.

“About that,” your eyes shift down to your boots as you speak quietly. “They can’t annul it, we’re going to have to get a legal divorce.”

Matthew doesn’t say anything, simply drags you down the hall into one of the spare bedrooms before closing the door and looking at you with wide eyes.

“What do you mean we need a divorce? I thought we could get it annulled and pretend like it never happened,” Matthew's tone was incredulous as he stared at you.

“Me too but apparently when you marry someone with a multimillion-dollar hockey contract that complicates things,” you swallow down the bile trying to climb your throat as you look up at Matthew. His gaze softens and you realize you must look scared shitless right now. “Listen I’ll figure it out okay? It’s not a big deal.”

Without warning, Matthew pulls you into a hug and you breathe in his warm woodsy scent, grounding yourself in the contact. You take a shaky breath as he runs a hand down your back, “Let me know how I can help, okay? I don’t want you stressing over this and it takes two to tango anyways.”

You barely hold back the urge to laugh at his statement, Matthew not knowing how true his words are. Instead, you nod and stay there for a few more comforting seconds before he pulls away, “You okay?”

Nodding you meet Matthew's eyes, “Can we talk after dinner?”

“Sure,” Matthew nods and presses a kiss to your forehead before he gives you one last smirk and leaves the room.

When you leave a few minutes later, everyone is starting to sit down around the table. You take your spot next to Luke and across from Matthew who winks at you as you sit. He groans and you see Quinn glaring at him, assuming your brother had kicked him under the table.

“Table is getting full,” Keith chuckles as he looks between all of the kids, Emma now seated next to Brady. “Might need a bigger one next year.”

Your mother lets out a huff and as soon as you look at her you know whatever comes out of her mouth next isn’t going to be good.

“I’d say so. In fact, I think someone here has a little announcement they want to make,” as you scan the table and meet Matthew’s gaze your stomach drops, both of your faces blanching. “Who wants to share?”

You and Matthew break away from each other's stares to look around at all of your siblings. None of them look like they’re quite sure what’s happening, but they all keep flicking back to you and Matthew.

“Mom-”

“Anyone want to tell me why there was a pregnancy test in the guest bath? A positive one at that?”

Your mouth snaps shut at your moms admission and side glances immediately start flying across the table. Most eyes turn to Brady and Emma, the newlyweds shaking their heads. Emma grabs her wine and takes a hearty sip before answering your mom, “Not me, I’m very much still enjoying my wine.”

Eyes dart around the table again and you can tell the moment Luke spots your can of Coke next to his bottle of beer, a long and loud groan leaving him, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Luke Warren Hughes! Language,” your father scolds, but you can barely register his chastising as you lock eyes with your twin.

“Okay but who’s pregnant?” Jack asks cluelessly as he continues to look around the table. “If it’s not Emma it’s Taryn or- Oh my god!”

You can feel every set of eyes at the table fall onto you but you can only meet Matthew’s gaze across the table, his blue eyes wide and searching as he stares you down. You hold his gaze until Quinn and Jack both start yelling simultaneously.

“Are you kidding me? You knocked up my sister you fucking douche canoe!”

“Holy shit! Holy shit this is from Vegas? First, you marry my sister then you knock her up?!”

At Jack and Quinn’s outbursts, you push your head into your hands as all four of your parents begin to hurl questions across the table. The noise leaves your head swimming as bile begins to rise up your throat, everyone around you shouting.

“Wait, Matthew got you pregnant?”

“What the hell happened in Vegas?”

“Did he just say you're married? How long have you two been together?”

“Does this mean we’re all going to be grandparents?”

As everyone continues to yell over the table you do the only thing you can think to do. Leaning to your right you promptly throw up your meager lunch into the potted plant next to you. Everyone stops as you continue to throw up and you vaguely register your mom ushering everyone out of the room while a hand settles on your back. You’re not entirely sure who’s holding you but the hand on your back is comforting.

“S’okay, I got you,” you’re slightly shocked when Matthew’s voice sounds out as his hand rubs your back. “Fun dinner huh?”

You huff out a laugh as you finally stop retching, looking over your shoulder at Matthew, “No one got a chance to take a single bite.”

There’s a silent minute where you’re simply breathing and trying to ground yourself before Matthew asks with a small voice, “You okay?”

Nodding slightly you sit up and face him, “I’m fine. Besides single-handedly ruining Thanksgiving and not being able to keep any food besides cranberry sauce down all day.”

Matthew chuckles as he runs a hand over his face, “Hey at least we had the common sense to get married before having a baby, huh?”

You both sit in silence for a second before a bubble of laughter bursts out from you, Matthew joining in. You look at him with a small smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, “I found out last night, I was going to tell you after dinner. I didn’t want to freak you out before we had to sit down and lie to everyone about being married, but here we are.”

“It’s okay. At least we don’t have to stress about telling everyone,” you’re both quiet for a second before Matthew whispers his next words. “You… Do you want to keep it?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly as you focus on your fingers. “Yes I… I hope that’s okay.”

Matthew nods, pulling you closer before speaking, “I… Yeah. We’ll figure it out, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you stop puking yet?” Luke asks as he sticks his head around the corner. Seeing you and Matthew sitting together he rolls his eyes. “Good. Can you please go into the living room before someone in there combusts? I think dad and Keith are about to start throwing punches.”

Matthew helps you up and you walk hand in hand to the living room. Keith and your dad are yelling and Quinn is trying (and failing) to explain what happened in Vegas to your mom.

“You think if we slip out they’d notice?” Matthew whispers right next to your ear and you have to stop yourself from letting out a full body shudder at the feeling.

“Unfortunately, yes. Plus I’m getting kind of hungry so I want to wrap this up and get back to dinner as soon as possible.”

Matthew chuckles behind you and everyone seems to realize you two are standing there. Your dad takes a step forward, but you put your hand up to stop him from coming any closer as you step in front of Matthew.

“Okay so we’re not going to threaten to beat up the man you’ve known since he was five,” you fix your dad with a knowing look before eyeing your brothers over his shoulder. “You three are included in that.”

“Why don’t we just let the kids explain what happened,” Chantal broaches from her spot on the couch next to your mom. “Maybe we have the story wrong.”

“Ummm so we went to Las Vegas… And then we got married,” you can’t meet anyone’s eyes as you speak but Matthew grabs your hand again and squeezes it comfortingly. “So there-“

“You got married because you were drunk and couldn’t find something better to do,” your father asked as he stared at you and Matthew.

“Jim!”

“No, Dad-“

“Well it’s fine they can just get it annulled,” Keith says from his spot across the room.

“Not if she’s pregnant,” Chantal shrieks and you can feel your heartbeat pick up. “You are pregnant, right?”

You nod, feeling tears prickling your eyes as your parents begin to speak again.

“What if it’s not even Matthew’s?”

“Well you can’t have a baby out of wedlock! Even if it’s not his-“

“You saying my daughter is a-“

“I didn’t say that! I’m just suggesting-“

“Listen I know that all of this wasn’t planned but both of us are responsible adults who can make decisions on our own,” Matthew interrupts your parents bickering and you don’t realize you're harshly squeezing his hand until he pulls you back into chest. “Can we table this conversation and eat dinner? Please?”

Everyone files back into the dining room and you cast a grateful look to Luke who’s taken the seat across from you so Matthew can sit next to you. Plates get passed around and when everyone is eating you finally breathe a sigh of relief.

“So besides the impromptu elopement, how was Vegas?” your mom asks with a small grin and a chorus of laughter sounds from the table.

Left it kind of open ended but I love writing the Hughes/Tkachuk gang so maybe another part?

[disneyprincemuke]

third time's a charm * fem!driver

notes: mocky rewritten now please leave me alone with that milo crap i just want rocky to have a boyfriend for the plot... the original mocky fics will still be up, they're just no longer relevant... i will be reposting a new version of mrs all american in a bit </3

everyone say bye to milo, hello matt cornett and also shoutout to the president of mocky nation her name is tine, thank you for helping me find the inspo and brainrotting with me to relaunch mocky <3

"why are you so pissed?" george frowns, turning around to pinch her cheek. "it's just a club. you've been to clubs before."

she huffs, folding her arms over her chest. "i wanted to stay in bed. remember how you had to drag me out of bed?"

george shrugs as he purses his lips together. "technically, logan dragged you out of bed. not me."

she scowls at him. "whatever."

she looks around the club with furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes. while she's not one to shy away from a good party, it's just a bad night for her tonight. she'd already originally planned on staying in her hotel room with a pint of ice cream and watching a movie.

she's simply not mentally prepped for a party night.

"hey, where are you going?" george frowns, hand chasing after the girl that's already weaving through the crowd flawlessly. "don't leave me."

"i'm going to get myself a drink," she smiles slightly. "it's on you, remember? because i came to be your designated driver."

george throws his head back with a soft hiss. "but soda is crazy expensive in these places."

she shrugs simply. "should have thought of that before you dragged me out tonight."

"and we thank you for that, rocky," fernando grins, slinging an arm around her. he presses a kiss on her cheek before guiding the two towards the counter. "your sodas are on me tonight."

"thanks," she laughs softly. she looks around when they reach the counter. "what's with the last-minute visit to the club anyway? weren't you guys also already in bed like normal people were?"

"my friend said i couldn't leave vegas without visiting this place," george admits with an excited nod. "we're in vegas, mate, and we just finished the race. let's just have fun."

"but i'm your designated driver."

"you keep saying that but you know i offered, right?" logan snorts, coming up next to her with a beer bottle in his hand. "nobody forced you to be designated driver."

"yeah, well, you guys forced me out of bed. i'm not in the condition to drink," she mutters, dropping her head slightly. "and i don't feel like drinking tonight. i want to be in the hotel with my pint of rocky road ice cream and a trashy romcom on my ipad."

she grins when fernando hands her the can of pepsi and turns back around to scan the crowd. there has to be somewhere she can run off to find some silence to be with her own thoughts. one person in particular catches her eyes, another guy sitting on the couch in the far corner typing away on his phone.

he lifts his head momentarily and by some force, he turns and immediately catches her eye from across the room. he forces a small smile to his face, prompting one from her before he looks down at his phone again.

she shrugs and starts to pick up her feet to explore the club with logan.

and 20 minutes later, she finds herself in a quieter part of the club. a balcony up at the second floor overseeing some view of vegas that she's growing to like quite a bit.

if she's being honest, being the sober one for a change is nice. or is it because she's now collected an insane amount of blackmail content on her friends?

a breeze of wind gushes over her, startling the girl hunched over and leaning on the railing. she turns around with a soft gasp and a hand to her chest when a man stands with the door handle in his hand, looking just as shocked as her.

"i-" he smiles politely. "i'm so sorry, i didn't know anyone was out here. i'll just go."

she furrows her eyebrows as a soft giggle passes her lips. "it's a public space. you don't have to go just because i was here first."

he purses his lips together. "i was trying to be respectful and polite," he squints his eyes as he finally lets go of the door. he walks over to her with caution. "if you wanted company, you could have just said so."

"i was also trying to be polite," she shoots back with a small and sarcastic grin. "i think i saw you earlier. on the couch being gloomy. clubs not typically your scene?"

he shrugs. "not as of lately. i'm matt, by the way."

she introduces herself as well – first name only and stops at that. if he didn't go in-depth with his introduction, she doesn't see a reason why she should.

and they spend the entire evening together, up until logan stumbled through the same glass doors in fits of giggles because george had hit his head on a lamp and told her it's time to go.

she never gets his full name, which is just a shame. nothing to tie the evening back to him; not a social media handle or anyone in the group that she went to the club with could find his face in the backlog of their evening before it became a haze.

"lily, oh my gosh, there's no way," she mutters, eyes widening as her hand comes out to smack her friend's shoulder. "it's the guy i met in vegas after the race."

"what?" lily says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "how sure are you that it's him? and, where?"

"over there," the younger girl slurs, covering her mouth as she giggles loudly. "at the bar. should i go and say 'hi'? do you think he remembers me?"

lily shakes her head and pushes her towards the direction of the bar. "it doesn't matter if he does. just go and say hi to him," lily encourages with a giddy smile on her face. "you've got your margarita, rocky?"

she nods with a soft huff. "you're right. i'm already shit faced – what's the worst that could happen?"

"well, you still have to be pleasant, you know that, don't you?" lily whispers in a firm tone. "just go and strike up a conversation with him."

with that advice, lily gives her one last push towards the bar. she turns back momentarily, raising her eyebrows at the redhead, pointing shyly at the boy's back turned towards her. lily nods and beckons her the other way.

she drunkenly tries to climb the seat next to him, sucking in a deep breath as she tries to find the words to say.

"that seat's take-"

"hey, gorgeous," she slurs, resting her elbow on the counter of the bar table, cheek pressed against her palm.

"ah, you!" matt immediately says, tilting his head with a wide smile. truthfully, he's remembered her voice for months since he first met her in vegas.

but her friend had yanked her out immediately, rambling something about an oscar needing to be taken home before he starts to projectile vomit everywhere. he remembers her giggle as she was pulled away by the blonde, turning around momentarily to bid him goodbye and thank him for keeping her company for an hour and a half.

he wasn't able to find her then. only got her first name and nothing else. he doesn't think of her as much as he did when they first met, but he does regret not getting anything else from her.

he should have. he just hadn't realised that their time would have been cut short so abruptly.

"yeah, me." she grins, biting down on her bottom lip. "we should really stop meeting like this. don't know what it says about us as individuals."

"well," he trails off, leaning back slightly, "you're kinda wasted this time around. i'm still sober – i was dragged out by my friends."

she laughs, "constant theme for you to be in places you don't wanna be. i quite like drinking; i'm typically the life of the party."

"then why are you here sitting with me at the bar? i've just been sitting here, you know," he says softly, looking around the club to try and find her friends for her, "you're not going to be the life of anything if you stay here with me."

"aw, don't want me around, malt?" she slurs with a giggle. she halts her giggles immediately, covering her mouth. "i'm sorry! i mean matt. your name is matt."

"new nickname just dropped."

"shut up!"

they share a laugh before they let the loud music overcome them. they sit in silence, the girl leaning forward to take a sip of her margarita. now she needs to find something to talk about before he gets bored of her.

"i like just sitting and talking with you, by the way," he starts softly, leaning towards her slightly to ensure that he could hear her. "you're pretty cool. and cute."

she hiccups, her body frozen in her seat as she stares at him with wide eyes. and she does the one thing she doesn't think she should have done: she makes fun of his accent.

now, she'd only typically do this with logan, who's very much accustomed to her defence mechanism of making fun of and mimicking his accent. but for a person she's only met twice and has spent a total of 2 hours with in her life, he's surprisingly taking it well.

they sit there for the next hour and a half – again – before liam comes stumbling with a film camera in his hands. he gushes sweetly, and drunkenly, muttering something about how the younger driver is finally finding a partner.

then he forces them together, snapping a picture and shoving it into the girl's forehead before padding away to terrorise oscar and lily once more.

"aw, i look so cute!" she squeals, scrunching her nose as she leans against matt's shoulder to look at it. "you should keep it, malt."

"what? no, your friend took the picture. i can't possibly take this with me," he laughs, offering her the polaroid picture. "you take it."

she shakes her head, eyes closed and lips pursed. "you should keep it to remind yourself how cute i am from time to time."

he raises an eyebrow, a small grin playing on his face. “are you sure? it’s really okay.”

she pushes his hand away and grins. “i don't forget cute boys that i meet – keep it so you don't forget how cute i am."

next to him, he hears somebody squealing. “oh, is that liam lawson? and logan sargeant?”

logan. now that’s a name he’s heard before, the first night they met in vegas, the young girl scolding the man who interrupted their time together to drag her out.

she winds up getting dragged away by her friends again, an older blonde man being the one to do it this time. she blows him a kiss as she is dragged out of the bar, waving at him as she’s yanked from the seat next to him.

and when he gets home, he searches for liam first. it was the easiest to misspell and google did its thing helping him correct it so he could find the driver.

it led to logan, the american's name being directly tied to liam's from the time being teammates in f2. and then oh–

she’s an f1 driver. with andretti. how could he not have connected the dots that evening they met at a club at the vegas strip?

he finds her instagram with no problem. and then he follows her.

there's a chorus of screams by the dj booth of the club, shot glasses and cocktails glasses up in the air before they take swigs of their individual drinks.

a race win for the sole woman on the grid – a truly monumental moment for everybody involved. so you can only imagine what it means for the 21-year-old to finally have her name added to the long list of race winners.

and here's matt, stepped into one of the random clubs in miami after attending the race.

so he attended the miami gp to see her. it's not weird, he was just interested to see her in action. seeing her race highlights from the 2023 season simply did not do her justice.

it's only a coincidence that she's won the race today.

but his luck had its cut out for him; he didn't come across her all weekend no matter what he did or where in the zones he went to. so, he'd given up. just let his friends drag him to some random club nearby, rumoured to house a couple drivers from the grid to party.

and would you have it: the race winner is standing at the dj booth sipping on a glass of cocktail with a pair of headphones on her head as she dances to the music.

he keeps an eye on her for the next 10 minutes, eager to finally introduce himself once more. when she finally leaves the dj booth, to get a refill of her cocktail he assumes, he stays at the bar where he sits.

but she doesn't see him. just stands quite a distance from him, rocking back and forth on her feet with puffed cheeks and drumming her hands against the marbled counter.

so he finally takes the courage to stand up and talk to her.

"well, well, well. look who it is." he sees her stand a little straighter, head tilting before she turns on her heel. she keeps herself steady with a hand gripping the countertop tightly. "third time's a charm, right?"

she clenches her jaw, trying to hide the smile that's growing on her face. "third?"

"right," he laughs, throwing his head back slightly, "you were pretty shit-faced that night. a club in new york? couple months ago in february?"

he sees her slowly realise and remember the second time they'd met, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "oh, my lord! i remember that!" she shrieks with her hands over her cheeks. "we had to leave; we had a flight early in the afternoon when sebastian dragged me out. i didn't do anything embarrassing, did i?"

he makes a face, slightly contorted as he briefly looks up to the ceiling as if to think of it. "well..."

she hunches over. "oh, god! i'm so sorry! i can't imagine what i did!"

she turns around as her cocktail is refilled, thanking the bartender and letting him know which tab she's under. though, it didn't really matter – how can the bartender not know which tab to charge her under she walked in with max verstappen and lando norris?

"congrats, by the way," he says softly. "i saw you earlier."

she tilts her head again, turning as she sips on her drink, what seems to be a glass of mojito. "what?"

"the race?" he furrows his eyebrows with a grin, pointing over his shoulder towards the window. "you won, didn't you?

she looks down shyly, nodding. "right. i did. thank you." she takes a deep breath and takes a seat on the high seat behind her. "you were at the race?"

he nods, "just gave it a try. pretty enjoyable, actually."

"i hope you liked the show," she grins, making slight jazz hands. she lifts her eyebrows. "which reminds me – let me get your instagram before we forget and i never chance upon you again. i'd be damned if i'm dragged out again tonight without being connected with you anywhere."

so she pulls out her phone and hands it over, him typing his username in while he contemplates. "actually, i already follow you."

"oh?" she squeaks, tilting her head as she looks down at her phone and wide eyes. "you do?"

"yeah," now it's his cheeks that slowly flush, dropping his head slightly, "i'm friends with sabrina."

"carpenter! i love sabrina!" she celebrates and giggles. "you're saying you talk about me to your friends?"

he shrugs, "i did. she confirmed to me it's you in the polaroid picture – found it when she was ransacking my wallet."

"you kept our picture in your wallet!" she coos, hands patting her cheeks as she drops her head. she can't even ignore the way her heart is racing in her chest. "how cute."

"are you leaving soon?"

"i'm the race winner – nobody leaves until i do," she presses her lips together with a grin, "max's rules."

"i mean miami. are you leaving the country soon?"

she grins. "i'm here for another week. why do you ask?"

"are you doing anything tomorrow evening? i'd love to take you out on a date."

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