#there’s got to be another person like me out here

[cherry-leclerc]

star-crossed ☆ mv1

genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut

word count: 9.1k

Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, fingering

inspired by this !

cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)

The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick. 

White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth. 

Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”

“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head. 

The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”

“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend. 

“Any more guesses?”

“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”

The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”

“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples. 

“September 4, 2022.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“You said it would be warm!”

Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—

“Should I just come back later or…”

Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away. 

And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”

Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”

It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry. 

“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”

His smile slips away. “Sorry?”

“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.

But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”

When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you. 

Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”

“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”

You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”

The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”

-

“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”

-

“She really said that?” 

Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”

“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty. 

Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain. 

“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”

Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”

Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”

“Oh! Hi!”

His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”

“New?”

Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”

“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”

You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”

A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”

The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”

“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.” 

“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.

You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”

His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”

A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.��

Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”

-

“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”

“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”

Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“I’m not a quitter.”

“There we go!”

“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”

And he does. 

It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup. 

“You look—”

“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”

“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”

Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?” 

Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”

And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”

With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”

“Yeah—and what’s another?”

His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”

“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”

His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”

Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”

 The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”

“Ah—is my ban lifted?”

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

-

“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”

Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“Nepo-Baby?”

You hum. “They all are.”

Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”

You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”

Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest. 

“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”

“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”

Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same. 

“Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been hiding from you.”

“Seems like. Don’t do that.”

“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Probably.”

You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”

“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.

But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down. 

“R-right—her.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”

“Hey,” you warn.

“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”

“Great…”

“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”

“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”

“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”

-

“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”

“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”

“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”

He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.” 

“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”

“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites. 

Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches. 

Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”

And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose. 

-

“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)

“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair. 

With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”

“No.”

“Well, two—”

Green paints her face. “No.”

“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”

“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”

“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”

You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”

Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Yes—”

“For a million different reasons—”

“I-I’m aware,” you stutter. 

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. 

And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago. 

Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”

“Done.”

For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled. 

“Are those your panties?”

-

“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—” 

“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring. 

She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”

Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”

A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.” 

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him. 

“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm. 

“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”

Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”

“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”

You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince. 

Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.

Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”

-

“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—

“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”

Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”

“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful. 

“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.

The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter. 

“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”

“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her. 

“Crap—you smell like shit.”

The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”

A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes. 

“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”

“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”

Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”

The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”

A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”

And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…

He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”

The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”

In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”

Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”

And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” 

-

“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder. 

“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”

“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker. 

The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”

Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.

“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“You.”

“Me?”

You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”

Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”

An eye roll. “Douche.”

He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt. 

“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”

“Oh no. How many did you drink?”

Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”

The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”

“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”

His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”

“Not really.” 

“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”

You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”

You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”

Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment. 

He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”

“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”

“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.” 

“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”

He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves. 

“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”

“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”

He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too. 

Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

He hums. “What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

-

“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”

“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.

Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look. 

“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."

“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively. 

Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”

You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”

As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.

Or so you thought.

“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”

“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment. 

The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.

“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”

-

“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”

The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”

Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”

“I don’t.”

“Well too bad, I’m going to.”

-

“Yeah. You already said that.”

Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance. 

“Hey!”

He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”

A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”

He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”

His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”

You groan. “Max.”

He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

 “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”

“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.

Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”

You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.” 

Green eyes glare down, playfully.

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”

As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”

The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”

“Nepo-Baby?”

Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”

“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”

A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”

The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—

“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”

Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”

Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”

“Hm. No. More like green apple.”

She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”

“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles. 

She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”

“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”

Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all. 

She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces. 

“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”

Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”

A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”

Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”

The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”

“Well—”

“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”

“So, so. Yourself?”

“Good. Refreshed.” 

“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”

The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”

His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”

Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”

The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”

“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”

A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”

Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”

The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.

“See you on track.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”

Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”

“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”

“I never meant any harm—”

“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”

Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”

And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”

You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”

“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”

He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”

You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”

“That you love him.”

“I do love him—”

He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”

“You’re sick."

“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.” 

You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”

Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

“Maybe, but who cares?” 

And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more. 

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”

“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”

The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he confirms. 

“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily. 

“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”

Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.” 

“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh. 

“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

-

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”

“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”

And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”

You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside. 

 “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

 “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

“What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”

You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”

He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”

A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”

He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”

Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”

“I am not a cheater.”

You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”

He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”

You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”

Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”

Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”

“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”

“Okay, stop—”

“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”

“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”

He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”

“Max…”

He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time. 

“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”

And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out. 

“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”

-

“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”

Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”

The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”

Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”

“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”

“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”

“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”

“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pierre hums. “Mate?”

Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.

Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.

Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.

But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.

“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”

“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”

“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”

“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”

So, with neat brown drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder. 

“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.” 

“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth. 

Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back. 

“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”

“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”

“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”

It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.” 

So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along. 

He gave his speech last.

He was the footnote.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Love Drunk

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: being drunk, fluff

Summary: Spencer takes you back home after you drank half the bar.

Square Filled: “do you think we were going to have sex?” (2021) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You're normally not the girl that goes to bars and gets wasted but this has been a really hard week for you. You almost got an innocent person killed when Hotch allowed you to take point, your debit card got stolen on Monday so you had to freeze your account while you wait for a new card to come in, your car got a flat tire, and your mother keeps calling to visit you. You love her but she is truly a bitch. She only wants to meet to pinpoint everything you’re doing wrong and you don’t have the energy for that. 

JJ, Emily, and Penelope offered to take you out to let some steam off but they didn’t know you were going to go as far as to drink half the bar.

“Should we do something?” JJ asks.

You’re practically on top of the bar counter, shaking your ass and reaching for another bottle of alcohol. They have never seen you like this so they don’t know what to do.

“We created a monster,” Penelope says.

“The next round is on me!” you yell and a cheer sounds from the barn counter. “Bartender, another round!”

“Okay, I’m doing something. JJ, call Spencer and have him come down here,” Emily says. She walks over to you and you grin widely when you see her. “Hey, how are you doing?”

���Emily! You’re so pretty. Guys, look how pretty she is! And she’s single!”

“Okay, you’re done. Come on, let’s get some water in you.”

She grabs you by your waist and drags you off the bar counter. You fall into her with a giggle and she gestures for Penelope to help her. JJ is off to the side calling Spencer so Penelope rushes over and the two of them hold you up.

“We’re never doing this again,” Penelope says.

“He’s on his way,” JJ says and walks over. “Did you get water in her?”

“No water! More alcohol!” you giggle.

All three of your friends support you and bring you to the front of the bar where your jacket is. You drove here but JJ will take your car and bring it to you tomorrow. She takes the keys out of your pocket and grabs your jacket as Penelope and Emily bring you outside.

“Where are we going next? We should go to the Space Needle!” you gasp.

“That’s in Seattle.”

“Yeah, let’s hop on a plan right now and go there.” You gasp again. “No, we should go to Niagara Falls. We could take a train right now to New York!”

“We’re never letting you drink this much again.”

“What? I’m a hoot to be around. I’m pretty fucking fantastic,” you pout. You look up and see Derek’s car pull up in front of the bar. “What’s Derek doing here?” Spencer steps out from behind the wheel and a big smile returns to your face. “Spencer! Baby!”

“I’ll put her things in the car,” JJ says.

“You let her drink the whole bar?”

Emily passes you off to Spencer who has to practically carry you.

“Our mistake. She kept crying about her week and before we knew it, she was doing shots with everyone inside. Don’t worry, we covered the bill for her,” Emily says.

“Thanks.” Spencer picks you up bridal style and brings you to the car. JJ opens the passenger door and Spencer gently sets you inside. He makes sure you’re buckled up before closing the door. “Thank you for calling me.”

“Anytime. I have her car. I’ll give it back tomorrow.”

Spencer departs from his friends and gets behind the wheel. You’re playing with the settings of the air conditioning.

“You are trouble.”

“You love me,” you grin.

Spencer starts the drive home while you continue playing with the settings of the car. You start babbling about work and why you were drinking so much, and Spencer stays silent and listens to you. Drunk!You is so cute and amusing. He looks at you to see your eyes wide and arms failing as you explain your story and he can’t believe that you’re all his. Youmarried him. He’s so lucky.

The second Spencer gets you into the house, your entire attitude changes. Maybe it’s because you know you’re alone or maybe it’s because you feel safe inside your own home but you pounce on Spencer as soon as the door is closed. You press kisses to his neck but he tries to get you off him.

“No, we can’t,” he groans.

You hop off him and stumble into the kitchen. You open the cabinet where you know the alcohol is but Spencer immediately pulls you back before you can grab a bottle.

“No, Spencer, we need a drink.”

“No, it’s time for bed. Come on.” You don’t move from your spot so Spencer steps into your space, and you smirk thinking he wants something more from you.  “Are we going to do it right here? I’m always ready for you. Bend me over right here.”

“No.” Spencer’s brow furrows. “Do you think we were going to have sex?”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

Spencer leans down and picks you up by your thighs, causing you to bend over his shoulder.

“Whoa!” You giggle. “You’re so strong.” Spencer takes you to the bedroom and lays you on the bed. You claw at his shirt to keep him close to you.b “Are we going to have--”

“No.”

“Why not?” you whine.

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

Spencer holds up three fingers.

“Darling, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Seven.”

“Okay. I need you to stay here. I will get you some water and some medicine because you’re going to hate yourself in the morning.”

Spencer goes to leave but you pull him back down and kiss his neck. He angles his head so you can’t kiss his lips. You slide your hands under his shirt but he grabs your wrists before you can go any further. He pins your hands above you and pulls his body away so you can’t touch him. In your state, you can’t fight him off.

“I said no.” He leans down and kisses your nose. “Goodnight.”

The struggle leaves you exhausted and you relax into the comfortable bed. Spencer leaves you in your club clothes and walks to the kitchen to get medicine and water for you in the morning. Where you can’t, he will always take care of you.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[puppy-steve]

don't look at the timezones too closely, the idea of eddie on tour and leaving steve voicemails to wake up to in the morning was too cute to pass up

"steeeeeve harrington."

eddie's sleepy voice rumbles away in steve's ear. there's no one else around so steve doesn't bother to hide his grin as he snuggles further under the blankets.

eddie chuckles, breathy and giddy, like he's telling a private joke. "good morning, sweetheart. well, morning for you. sun won't be up here for another–" there's a pause, then a shuffle, and steve can picture eddie rolling over in his hotel bed to look at the alarm clock even though he could just look at his phone, "–five hours, christ alive."

steve's grin turns gooey when eddie lets out a loud yawn into the receiver. he hears the sheets shifting and he has to reel his mind back in from the gutter.

"the boys say i'm stupid for leaving you all these voicemails," eddie tells him once he's comfortable. steve pictures them both laying the same way, facing each other. "they call me whipped every time i pick up my phone, but guess what, stevie?"

he pauses, like he's waiting for an answer.

steve can't help but to whisper back, "what, eds?" into the quiet of their bedroom.

"i miss you so much, sweetheart."

steve feels his heart jump to his throat so suddenly that he almost chokes on it. butterflies erupt in his belly and he can feel himself blushing. his lips wobble with the attempt to not make some embarrassing expression, even though he's the only one in the room.

it's been over a month since they've seen each other in person. photos of their teary eyed send off were still making the rounds on twitter and instagram—steve tucked into eddie's side at the check-in counter with their hands in each other's back pockets, them waiting in line at one of the airport restaurants because the flight was delayed so they had another two hour wait time. the fan video of them making out in a hidden alcove away from the band.

there's been facetime calls, but it doesn't replace the longing need to have eddie physically with him. to kiss him. to hold him. to bury his face in his neck and never let go.

"i don't think i tell you that enough, when i leave," eddie continues, his voice still soft and gravelly from lack of sleep and singing for three hours straight. "but i do. i'm so used to you being the first thing i see when i wake up that i get sad when i open my eyes and you're not beside me."

steve grips the blankets and lets out a pathetic whine, his chest tight.

"i miss holding your hand, i miss being able to kiss you, i miss hearing your laugh and seeing your smile." eddie sighs, deep and sorrowful, and it breaks steve's heart.

he wants to take his love's face in his hands and kiss him until he no longer sounds so sad.

"just fourteen hundred more hours and i'll have you back in my arms. call me after you listen to this, okay? i love you so much."

the voicemail ends and steve sits up, his bedhead wild and unruly. he taps out a message to chrissy asking for the next available flight they could put him on and sighs in relief when she says they can fly him out tomorrow night at the earliest.

mentally going over everything he needs to pack, steve falls back down onto the bed while his phone rings out on speaker.

"hey, babydoll."

at the sound of his boyfriend's voice in real time, a calmness washes over steve as he sinks back into the pillows.

"hi, baby. i got your message."

[satorisoup]

YOUR NUMBER, TO GO .ᐟ

ft. kento nanami

cw : fluff. bakery owner! reader. nanami being absolutely smitten with you.

wc : 897

nanami absolutely despised work environments. he didn’t like the exhausting feeling of sitting in an office, day to day, with nothing but papers and an annoying ring of the telephone to keep him company. he didn’t enjoy the daily routine of work, eat, work again, sleep, repeat. it was getting far too repetitive, and quite frankly, boring. how could he enjoy anything when work was always in the way?

that was until he spotted the cute little bakery on the corner during his lunch one day, practically calling his name to come inside.

as fate would have it, he entered through the dainty doors out of pure curiosity, and with the “—ding!” of a bell, he was greeted with the brightest, cheery smile he thinks he’s ever come across. the excited “ welcome! ” and delicious pastries reeled him in like a fish on a hook, met with a sweet girl dressed in an apron behind the counter. nanami believes he may have just found a gold mine.

he browsed the desserts from behind the glass case, unsure of what to decide on. the strawberry scones? maybe tiramisu? wait, there’s chocolate chip cookies too? he was stuck in his thoughts, options seemingly endless.

and you, an angel sent down to earth, began to speak again, tone sweet like honey, “ first time here? i can recommend you a few things if you’d like, sir. ”

nanami left with an entire box of pastries that day, and he didn’t have one single regret.

the next day, the same situation followed. and the day after, and again after that. his own legs began to betray him, automatically leading him straight down the path to your beloved bakery every time the clock hit 11:15. soon enough, he became one of your most loyal regulars.

you were incredibly warm and inviting. a breath of fresh air, giving him the push he needed to continue through his primitive work day. lunch time was his secret guilty pleasure, which was getting to buy some sweet desserts from an even sweeter girl, who called him “ mister nanami ” as she welcomed him in with a honeyed hello. over time, nanami started to realize that not only were you a pleasant person, but you were also incredibly endearing.

that now leads nanami to his latest predicament, which was how to ask for your phone number without looking like an idiot.

it starts with him showing up to your shop, dressed in his usual work atire, you looking in his direction at the sound of the bell. he makes his way to the display case, mind still whirring with what he should say.

“ oh! mister nanami, i have a new treat today! would you like to try one? ”

nanami is snapped out of his churring decisions, turning to you as you hold out a tray of what you had decided to make today. ah, strawberry sundaes.

“ oh, i’d love to. ” is what he responds with, smiling as you nod your head, taking one to neatly package up for him.

nanami watched your soft, delicate hands wrap his dessert in a pretty cellaphane, all the while you hum to yourself in content as you tie a bow to close it off. your soft humming to the tune that plays like a melody is all too enticing, and— oh, he’s staring. you’ve really got him wrapped around your sugar coated fingers, without a single idea of it. nanami curses himself, really, for not being man enough to grab your phone number before this. hm, how improper and cowardly of him.

“ here you are ! please, tell me how it tastes. i tried a new recipe ! ”

nanami is about to hit his thirties and yet, he feels like a child with the way his heart rate picks up at the sound of your voice. he shovels the comically tiny spoon into the sundae before taking a bite with everything on it.

you’re beautiful and you surely can make a mean sundae. that’s one thing for certain.

“ it’s delicious, as always. how much do i owe you ? let me grab my wallet— ”

“ it’s on the house ! ”

and another thing, you were just so damn generous.

“ i couldn’t possibly— ”

“ mister nanami, i insist ! you’re here almost every day, it’s the least i can do for my favorite customer ! ”

oh ?

nanami thinks all of his logistics may have been thrown out of the window, because the second he heard the implication of him being your favorite customer, accompanied by the precious blush that covers your cheeks, he really doesn’t mind being bold for once in his life.

“ ah. well i don’t want to be greedy, but i wouldn’t mind having something else on the house… ”

“ of course ! anything at all really, what would you like ? ” you innocently asked.

“ is your phone number on the menu ? ”

not a day in nanami’s life would he of ever expected himself to use such a cheesy pick up line on the sweetest girl, but when he sees that same old smile that drew him to you in the first place, he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“ for here or to go, mister nanami ? ”

[viceversa-666]

2nd Chances

Nico and I have been friends since we were kids. We did every single thing together. From coloring in kindergarten to joining the wrestling team in high school, we were ceremonial twins essentially despite are vastly different racial backgrounds. Hell we even came out as Bi to one another at the same time.

We were always on the same page until we got to college. It's so silly in retrospect. I could have never foreseen that we would like the same person and that it would lead to such a big fight that we both stormed off to cool down. He went for a run on campus and I got in my car and sped off, but so did this speeding truck that ran a red light.

I was in the hospital for 3 months and every day Nico would stop by and stay by my side crying, pleading, wishing for me to wake up. But when that 3rd month ended, so did doctor's hope that I would ever wake up.

I remember hearing Nico hysterically crying telling the doctors to fix me. There was no fixing me.

The night before they were set to take me off life support, Nico layed in my hospital bed with me. That's when he made the wish.

"I don't want to lose you Emil but I'm going to live out everything you've wanted to accomplish. I just wish I could do more so you could be the one to live our your dreams."

I woke up the next day and picked up my phone...what? How am I picking up my phone? Wait this isn't my phone? But it unlocked to my face? I fiddled my fingers to open up the selfie camera.

"Nico?" I gasped.

The bed I was in was empty. Someone from the hospital came to break the news to me that "Emil" passed away at night ahead of them disconnecting "him" from life support. They had staff place me in another bed while "his" family mourned.

"If I'm Nico does that mean...no....it can't"

I couldn't believe this he didn't make a wish to die, but then I sensed I wasn't alone. I got up and searched the room. But no one was there. Instead I heard a voice but it was inside my head.

"Hello? What's going on?" the voice said.

I couldn't wrap my head around all of these new developments. I felt like I was about to faint and honestly thought I did. But then the body I'm in braced itself and spoke out loud without me doing it.

"Woah. What just happened? I was like watching myself move but not controlling?" Nico's body said.

That's when it clicked

"Nico is that you in here?" I yelled in an exasperated glee.

Nico and I headed to a cafe where he got a coffee and we spoke in our weird new internalized way. I told him to put his headphones on so no one would think he was crazy.

We never thought a wish would lead to something beyond scientific explanation. It felt like we were always hugging one another, just surrounded by each others platonic love. I was so glad I didn't have to lose him even though it meant I lost my body.

Weeks went by and it was hard for me. Anytime I took control of Nico's body I felt like I was putting a show on pretending. But that's not me. I think the best perk of being in the same body was Nico being present and co-experiencing my emotions.

"You don't have to pretend to be me. We can just make a new 'Nico'. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you're unhappy or trapped Emil." Nico said giving me the closest thing he could to a consoling hug.

Over the next few days we talked about boundaries about our new Nico.

No partners without both agreeing. No major tattoos and piercings without both agreeing. You might be sensing a theme here. The new Nico was a democracy, but at least I didn't have to be hyper masculine like I thought he wanted me to be. If anything my flamboyant nature was something he said he always wanted to channel more but felt too insecure to do.

Becoming one person felt like we were actually 2 halves finally returning together for the greater good.

But at the end of the day, we're still 2 college aged bi dudes. When we went out it was the best of both world times 2. We turned looks that channeled both our vibes but also our drive was insatiable. It may just be one body but partners had to please 2 sex drives.

In the semi-rare occasion we both agreed on one person to go home with, we destroyed them, especially men. Those became our favorite interactions only because it was easier to flip and f*ck.

I'd start leading them on letting them think they'd get to top such a beefy and submissible bottom which was true. Nico's body was not a bottom before I got here but he absolutely should have. His butt was almost asking to be spread and eaten. These thighs from years of wrestling and collegiate sports allowed me to just ride for an hour if I wanted. By the time they were done and we're glistening in sweat and panting, Nico tagged in.

He's the definition of a fuckboy with the way he lays pipe. He knew all the right ways to treat you before impaling you with his sizably thick dick. I'll never forget the face of the first guy we flipped. He was looking at us so surprised with eyes that almost look like he was hungry for us. Back and forth, thrusting until they moan unbelievably loud from the lengthy sessions. I don't know how NIco was cumming before but he's definitely cumming enough for 2 people with the way we climax now.

We're glad to be together now....no more than anything I'm glad to be Nico now, too.

[tteokdoroki]

˚✧₊・🍉 — SPONSOR A WIP FOR GAZA !

hello everyone!! i wanted to join the writing project ficsforgaza with the intention of raising more awareness and hopefully donations for the ongoing cause. i am a little slow on writing but hopefully this will motivate myself and others for a good cause <3!

rate: $1 USD per 100 words !

instructions: please follow this link and donate to a vetted fund of your choosing. after doing so, send an off-anon ask to myself including the following: a redacted screenshot as proof (hiding any personal information), a link to the fundraiser you’ve donated to, the name of the wip you’re sponsoring.

example: hi aali! i have donated to help mashael and her family. i would like to sponsor an alternative to grief [ screenshot showing $5 usd has been donated - equivalent to 500 words ]

i will not be publishing asks, but for transparency, will be keeping a record of evidence to send to @ficsforgaza — this is to ensure individuals are not reusing screenshots sent to myself or other writers. the wips will be updated regularly.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🍉 wips disclaimer ! - they are below the cut.

there will also be a donation goal for each wip just to ensure that I don’t get overwhelmed! i work full time and write a little slow, but the main goal is to raise awareness and donate to an important cause. there are various lengths available, subject to change but dont worry if i don’t have anything you fancy! please check out the other authors who are apart of this project!

note: minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, nsfw and dark content is included in the wips below.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🍉 current wips available !

an alternative to grief; katsuki bakugou.

tags ! pro hero!bakugou, nurse!reader, strangers to lovers, dating after loss, children, therapy, grief, hurt comfort, fluff, angst, smut + part one of three.

with the sudden death of your husband, you find yourself alone with a son, angry at the world and in the corner of a therapy group specifically for grieving spouses of pro heroes. it isn’t until you lock eyes with a familiar, formidable red that you come to realise… there is happiness after death and alternatives to grief.

current word count: 5,991/10,000+

donation goal word count: 0/5,000

my doll; eijirou kirishima.

tags ! pro hero!au, soft dom!kirishima, dumbification, dollification, smut + dark content.

eijirou kirishima was born with an innate desire to protect, to give, to dominate and perhaps that is why he slowly begins to take over your life, treating you as though you’re some dainty little doll…belonging only to him.

current word count: 2,647/3,500

donation goal word count: 0/1,000

something i thought belonged to me; izuku midoriya.

tags ! pro hero!au, college!au, strangers to friends to lovers, coming of age, misunderstandings, fluff, angst + smut.

after abandoning your dream school to start anew and get away from your shitty ex, you adopt a stray l cat to cope with your lonesome…only to find out the pro hero exchange student next door has had the exact same idea.

current word count: 134/15,000+

donation goal word count: 500/5,000

swingsets; yuuji itadori.

tags ! college!au, small town!au, summer romance, coming of age, first loves, self discovery, misunderstandings, fluff, angst + smut, part one of many.

everyone always says you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. but life moves quick and yuuji itadori has only one year left of his degree to figure out what it is that he wants. making it big in the big city of tokyo isn’t all what it’s cut out to be, so he decides to return to his roots, and indirectly, return to you. OR a jjk small town!au where each sorry connects to another. this is the story of yuuji itadori, reconnecting with his first love.

current word count: 0/20,000+

donation goal word count: 1820/5,000

other ways to help can be found here and here.

— all rights reserved © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[kinardscoffee]

I think Tim Minear just confirmed tommyBuck being a LTR with the video that he just posted…

What is your opinion?

Honestly?

The video is just another piece of evidence showing that bucktommy is here for the long run.

To me, the very first confirmation that bucktommy was going to be a LTR was Tim's interview, where he said that he wanted Buck off the hamster wheel and that he didn't want another LI that was siloed off from the 118.

I feel like I'm constantly repeating myself here, but that's fucking important and I don't really understand why some people can't understand that.

I mean, sure... "they" like to argue that, obviously, Eddie wouldn't be siloed off, but what people don't seem to understand is that if Eddie and Buck were to become a couple... one of them WOULD be siloed off.

(I hate the word "siloed.")

There are a few reasons behind this.

1. Look at Bathena and Madney. The two couples that are made up of main characters. One of them, usually the non-member of the 118, gets pushed back. I mean, yes, they still have large storylines, but they usually separate them from their LI. Or their LI is put in harms way because of it. Do we really want less time with one or even both of our mains? Especially Buck and Eddie, the dynamic duo?

2. What happens when they experience relationship issues? Imagine you get into an argument with your significant other. Something nice about having a job is you get to get away, blow off some steam, vent to your work bestie... but like... they work together... ON 24 HOUR SHIFTS. That is a recipe for disaster, not only for them, but for the entire team.

3. Based on #2, they probably wouldn't be allowed to work the same shifts. So, we would have to have someone replace both Buck and Eddie on their new respective shifts. Not to mention... they would have Christopher. And, as a couple one would need to be there for him and for when he has school stuff or just personal things in general.

None of these things are ideal. And seeing as people think we already see too much of Bobby and Athena? It would be too much work to juggle the Buddie dynamic.

Sorry... got really off track, Anon!

Back to the video.

Tim is going to post, write, and say what he wants to. He has no obligation to feed either side of the fandom just to keep them happy and, as we've seen, he doesn't. He cut the karaoke song and then showed the script to get people off his ass and to stop sending him DEATH THREATS. Like, jfc. If he wanted that side to shut up, all he had to do is post some Buddie pictures and move on... but that's not what he's done.

He's gone back and said he picked the wrong song. He's posted the articles specifically about Buck's bi awakening and his relationship with Tommy. And then he posted that video.

To me, that video says, "This is the direction I'm going. This person is correct. I like what this video says." So. Yes. It is yet another confirmation of bucktommy Long Term Romcom goodness.

And can I just add... if Tim really did pull this relationship out of his ass last minute even though we see all these parallels and invisible string theory... wouldn't you want to take credit for that and explore it?

I know I fucking would.

[luvymelody]

NAME : karasuno team , haikyuu!!

SONG : old love , yuji + putri dahlia

SUMMARY : the second years have been complaining about finding suitable jobs for themselves. so ukai says that everyone can take turns working at his store for experience in a retail job. who knew that someone would be coming daily? wc : 1.8k

y/n slipped her shoes on, putting their hat on their hat just above her eyebrows as she zipped up her jacket.

“can you get me that one ice cream!”

her brother yelled from his room, popping his head from his door to look at the girl who was about to leave the house.

“don’t get your brother that ice cream! eating ice cream this late will get you sick!”

“ma please!”

y/n left the house, shutting the door behind her as the last thing she heard was her brother pleading their mother for ice cream.

y/n originally was gonna go buy food from the convenience store a few streets down, but she took a small shortcut to it, finding a new convenience store she’s never seen before.

‘ohh maybe i should start going here..’

y/n thought in her head, walking inside the store as she looked at the cashier. he looked about her age, orange hair, doing his homework at the counter, there was also another one, a blonde wearing glasses while he pointed at the paper.

the orange haired boy looked up, hearing the door open and stood up from his chair and greeted the girl. the blonde boy just looked up, nodding his head at her.

“hello!”

“hi..”

y/n smiled at the boy, then put her head down, turning to look around the store to see if there’s that one ice cream her brother liked.

she lifted her hat up a little bit to gather food, holding it in her hands. she got an instant bowl of ramen, onigiri, ice cream for her and her brother and two drinks.

y/n went up to the counter, the boy was doing his homework while the blondie was stood up, pushing the smaller boy away from the front of the register.

“is that all for today?”

“yeah. thank you.”

y/n thanked, nodding her head as she opened her hand bag, trying to find her wallet. the blonde boy looked up at the girl’s hat, admiring her white hat, it was a brand he liked.

“nice hat.”

“thanks- how much?”

“2,910 yen.”

y/n handed him three thousand yen bills and waited for her change, her eyes trailing down to the smaller boy and his worksheet.

“the answer’s 7.”

she said, looking up at his face as he stared up at her in amazement.

“sorry-”

“really?! ha! she figured it out before you, stingyshima!”

“hah? what did you call me?”

“stingyshima! sorry, can you explain it to me?”

y/n blinked as the orange haired boy looked at the girl as the blonde haired boy glared at the small one, then started to bag her food.

"oh, sure. so-"

y/n explained it to him, the cashier placed her bag of food on the counter infront of her, looking between the two as he also started listening, understanding the problem.

"wahh! you're so smart! i'm shoyo hinata!"

"i'm y/n l/n, you are?"

y/n looked up at the other boy, who grumbled then introduced himself.

"kei tsukishima."

"it's nice to meet you-"

a buzzing was heard in y/n's pocket, y/n took it out, placing it against her ear.

"moshi moshi? sorry, it was really nice to meet you!"

y/n greeted the person in her phone, grabbing the bag and waving to tsukishima and hinata as hinata waved back excited, while tsukishima nodded at her. she exited the store, disappearing out of their sight.

"yeah, i'm coming. no i went to another store-"

-

the next day, it was practice, so the boys started changing in the club room, hinata was struggling to take his shirt off, tsukishima making fun of him as he laughed at pointed.

“hey hey! tsukishima, hinata, how was work?”

tanaka exclaimed, an arm over both of their shoulders once hinata finally took his shirt off.

“easy.”

“so good! we also saw this pretty girl- so pretty- hurts my soul.”

“well, there’s no one prettier than our goddess, kiyoko!”

“no dude..”

hinata said, then leaning in.

“she’s on par with kiyoko.. so pretty, i’m not joking!”

tanaka raised his eyebrow dramatically, tsukishima shrugging his arm off his shoulder and putting his shirt on. tanaka whipped his head to tsukishima.

“was the girl you saw… pretty?”

tanaka paused for a second, leaning into tsukishima closer so tsukishima got frightened, taking a step back.

“i don’t know?”

“ugh! you were probably going crazy, hinata!”

“what’s going on?”

nishinoya said, walking into the club room being a little late.

“can you believe that hinata thinks he saw a girl prettier than kiyoko?”

“what?!”

nishinoya exclaimed, dropping his bag and chasing hinata around the room until daichi grabbed them by the collars and forced them to run laps.

-

“no! bakayama- she was sooo pretty! tell me if you see her!”

hinata whined, standing infront of the counter which kageyama was behind. kageyama’s arms were crossed and hinata’s hand were on his hips.

“no.”

“whyyy?”

hinata glared, tsukishima walked up behind him after getting food from the store with yamaguchi, then hitting hinata on the back of the head then.

“ow!”

“let’s go, pipsqueak.”

that night, kageyama and sugawara were working together. coach ukai thought that kageyama would scare customers off, so sugawara could be a face that people could rely on.

“let’s work hard, kageyama!”

sugawara said determined, his fists in the air clenched in determination while kageyama matched him.

“hai.”

-

“get me this again?”

y/n’s brother asked, his hands clasped together as y/n narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“get it yourself.”

“nooo! come on, y/n!”

“you go!”

y/n turned around, starting to walk back to here room, then her brother called out in hurry,

“i’ll give you money-“

suddenly, y/n was infront if her brother, hand stretched out waiting.

-

y/n entered the shop, seeing only one person at the counter, a black haired boy who nodded his head at her.

‘like tsukishima?’

y/n thought, then turning to find the onigiri.

for some reason, they had moved it to the top shelf when literally yesterday night it was at the midsection. y/n grimaced, stretching her arm up to try a grab a hold of the onigiri. on her tippy toes, she reached high as she held the shelf near her head for balance.

‘who the hell put it so high-?’

then, a hand went up, grabbing the onigiri and being held infront of her. y/n went flat on her feet, following the arm to the person right behind her.

“is this the one you wanted?”

he asked politely, y/n blinked, then grabbing the onigiri out of his hands.

“oh yeah, thank you..”

‘is this the pretty girl hinata was talking about? she is pretty..’

the grey haired boy thought, smiling at y/n.

-

“she was wearing a black hoodie, a white hat- wait what’s the name.. tsukishima! what was the brand?!”

“(insert random brand).”

“yeah! and she had h/c coloured hair. so pretty!”

“shut up about that girl!”

“why are you so rude, bakayama!?”

-

"is there anything else you need help with?"

the grey haired boy asked, gesturing to the top shelves that y/n couldn't reach. y/n nervously smiled, covering her mouth in embarrassment.

"could you also, get the one next to it?"

y/n pointed up as the boy looked up, picking it and holding it for the girl.

"i'll bring these to the front counter."

he smiled, bowed and walked away as y/n quickly followed, placing her things down on the counter infront of the two boys.

"you scan everything and tell her the price after, kageyama."

the grey haired one muttered to the boy as 'kageyama' nodded quickly, sliding them to the other as he bagged everything. y/n didn't hear, looking around the store to avoid awkwardly stnaidng there and waiting.

"that'll be- 1,922 yen."

kageyama said stiffly, but y/n just nodded, picking money out of her wallet.

"see! you're a natural."

the grey haired boy whispered to kageyama, bumping his shoulder as kageyama was surprised, holding his shoulder as the other slid the bag infront of the girl as she handed kageyama two thousand yen bills.

y/n waited for a change, even though it only took a few seconds, y/n could swear she saw the black haired kid before, something was familiar about him.

"thank you."

y/n thanked, bowing and grabbing the bag and leaving the store.

"success!"

sugawara cheered, his hands in the air as kageyama nodded, lifting his arm slightly up to his chest.

-

"so, so?! did you see her!?"

hinata exclaimed, jumping and his hands smacking down on kageyama's shoulders as tsukishima, yamaguchi, sugawara, tanaka walked into the gym, waiting for the rest of the team.

"ow! boke- hinata!"

"the h/c haired girl?"

sugawara questioned, bouncing a ball on the floor to warm up,

"yeah!"

"oh, yeah we did. you're right, she was pretty cute."

"see tanaka-senpai!?"

hinata shouted, pointing at his upperclassmen, still a little petty about getting a beating from nishinoya and tanaka.

"until i see her with my own two eyes, kiyoko is my queen."

tanaka argued, pointing at hinata and then turning and launching a ball in hinata's direction as the orange haired boy yelped, dodging and running from tanaka.

"good thing it's your shift today, with noya."

sugawara said, catching the back of tanaka's collar to stop him as the shaved haired boy choked.

-

"and then suga said that hinata was right- and that she was cute! unbelievable!"

"what a traitor to our goddess kiyoko!"

the two were talking about the 'pretty girl' that sugawara and hinata kept talking about. the two kept talking, not hearing the front door open and two people came walking in.

"what are they on about?"

y/n's brother, tendou, asked, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets.

"how am i supposed to know? c'mon satori."

y/n tugged her brother towards the ice cream section, him following behind her.

"wait shit customers came in"

nishinoya said, looking at the two who disappeared from their sight behind the aisles of food.

"shut up and act professional."

"you act professional- and you shut up!"

the two teenage boys argued with each other, then a bit later, hearing stuff being dumped on the counter, looking at the noise and seeing two people, a red haired boy and h/c coloured hair girl.

"hey, don't dump them on the counter.."

y/n murmured, hitting tendou on the arm as he winced, rubbing his arm.

"ow, that hurt y/n.."

"no way it did."

y/n and tendou conversed as tanaka and nishinoya started scanning the items, looking up a few times and then making eye contact with each other.

'shit, is that her?'

'they were right, she's so pretty..'

'are them two dating?'

they both thought as the same time as tanaka handed them their bag.

"4,958 yen- please.."

y/n turned her head towards tendou, as he looked back at her.

"pay asshole."

"i'm so nice to you and this is what i get?"

tendou rolled his eyes, placing money down on the counter.

"thank you- let's go."

"the change bro"

tendou left the store, bag in hand as y/n waited for the change. tanaka dropped the change into her hand, and then y/n smiled, bowing.

"thank you so much."

y/n turned, leaving the store and yelling at tendou. while tanaka and nishinoya turned to each other. nishinoya nearly silently said,

"shit, suga and shoyo were right.."

[sir-adamus]

i've got the blu ray for volume 1 playing and i'm watching the behind the scenes video and Monty explicitly spells out how important collaboration with other creatives was in building RWBY, saying how he wanted to work with Kerry and Miles on it in creating the world and how he mostly gave them broad strokes. and it's mentioned how they all put the show bible together - i'm gonna put the whole transcript for the video under the cut (which i'm having to do myself because no one has uploaded this video anywhere as far as i can tell and there's no fucking subtitles)

Monty Oum [Creator and Director]: It’s the stories I’ve always wanted to tell versus the idea I came up with about, a little over a year ago. And we were talking about doing another show, and I just kind of half-asleep came up with the idea of a color rule for a bunch of characters. The red, white, black and yellow color scheme was something that was very prominent even in my previous work, so I started matching names up, matching ideas up. Also thinking about like, some of the ideas I’d stored up over the years. At some point or another the word ‘RWBY’ came to me.

Monty: Starting the show out originally, I designed the original character, Ruby, as well as going into the other characters. So once I had the first trailer done, and thinking about the rest of the characters for the show, I started bringing in other artists who I had watched for years. People I’d always said “someday I’ll work with them, someday I’ll have them design for me.” And when I was certain about having certain characters, I first contacted an artist I admired and found over DeviantArt. Her name was Ein Lee, she’s actually from Taiwan, and I found her art probably well over five years ago, and just loved her art style, and therefore wanted to incorporate it into my characters. So, I would do rough designs for team RWBY as well as designs for team JNPR, and she would flesh that out to be even further. To the point where eventually I didn’t need to design characters anymore, she started designing a bunch of the rest of the characters down the line.

Monty: The second person I brought on to RWBY was Kerry, because we had just been having conversations about the kind of show we could make. I’d been working with Miles on Season 10. He was writing scenes while I was making scenes, and so the three of us would have a lot of meetings and collaborate on the show to the point where I just started coming up with the broad strokes eventually and they had pretty much written the bulk of the show. Collaboration’s a big deal here, and I tried to include as many people as I can.

Kerry Shawcross [Co-writer]: Right after RvB ended, we wanted to just go straight into RWBY, but that was like right when we were going into commercial season. So we would work our normal hours here. Like 10 to 7-ish, then we would go back to one of our apartments and just start writing.

Miles Luna [Co-writer]: Monty really was enthusiastic about having these characters that may appear really one-dimensional for like the first few scenes that you see them, but the longer you get to know them, you realise “Oh, Yang isn’t just a dumb blonde party girl. She’s a very caring and nurturing girl, that has had to essentially be there for Ruby when she was young.”

Kathleen Zuelch [Producer]: When Monty and Miles and Kerry came to me, and really took me through the story. I started becoming a huge believer, because I’m a big fan of old school, traditional fairy tales, I love the Brothers Grimm, I love all the Snow White, and I love Little Red Riding Hood. I grew up with all of those stories, and the way that they were very clever in creating this whole world that’s kind of making homage to all of these amazing stories really inspired me to get more on board with what they wanted to do with this whole anime show.

Taylor McNee (née Pelto) [Art Director]: The world of RWBY, it looks very familiar. We wanted a blend of very classic looking architecture and clothing and cars, but we’re also mixing in this really kind of futuristic feel, like these little touches of some really futuristic stuff like holograms and things that you wouldn’t find in a classic [inaudible]. And that’s how we’re making this world unique. Our assets have to go through this pipeline of concept, modelling, texturing, and then finally being able to be put into the 3D program. So we start out with the concept and we usually bring that image into Maya, which is the main 3D software that we use. We have to make a 3D model that looks exactly like the concept that we were given, and it’s quite a process. Basically, we’re pushing polys and extruding stuff until we make the perfect shape, then afterwards we have to UV unwrap it, and then lay everything out on a texture sheet and then paint it, and that will put the image on the model. After that we’re basically done with the model and texture, and then we have to give it to the animators. So then we will set it up in Poser so the animators can grab it and use it for their characters.

Gray Haddock [Lead Editor]: There’s a lot of people working on this show, and there’s a lot of different elements in the pipeline. Editorial kinda serves as a hub between all the different departments, so we help all the communication and coordination between all the different pieces of the show, depending on what part of development that they’re in. Editorial’s getting involved way early in the process, we work alongside the director and the writers and the storyboard artists, and we use the scripts to help develop the storyboards and the camera angles for all those boards. So editorial is responsible for building up the moments of any given scene in terms of the timing and what you wanna look at, at any given moment. So we take the script and we help develop the camera angles and how long you wanna linger in a particular camera angle, look at one character or another or the scene as a whole, and the rhythm of the scene in terms of how long is it gonna take to spend on a particular line or when you want the music to come in, things like that. So we build up a set of animatics with the storyboards, and the first pass of all the audio. This is what then is handed off to the animators, so they can know exactly what is in what shot and how long do they have to animate it in a given shot. And once they’re done animating and their shot’s been approved, then their shot goes to the render farm, we get the rendered shot back and we drop it into the timeline for our episode and finesse the cut a little bit if we have to. But for the most part, we’ve done our job right and everything should pretty much be locked in for the most part by the time we’re getting animation.

Kerry: What’s kinda interesting as we’re creating the characters is, we kinda knew what kind of character they’d be. We knew Ruby would act a certain way, we knew Weiss would act a certain way, but we didn’t really know much about them. So we would get to the point where we’d be figuring out plotlines or figuring out dialogue and we’d be like “What would Weiss say here? What would Nora say here?” And then it turned into “Oh well now we know.”

Miles: Obviously we put a lot of thought into Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang before we started writing the dialogue. I remember sitting upstairs and we made a show bible, and we’re starting- we talked about likes, dislikes, personality traits. One of the first things I remember making was “Weiss drinks coffee. Blake drinks tea.”

Kerry: It’s important. It sounds not important at all, but it’s very important. It says so much about them

Miles: But it’s so important. So much about them, also it says nothing about them. It was just like- that’s just what it is.

Monty: I want the show to have resonance with people who are growing up. Cos everyone’s story is the story of kind of becoming who they are. Especially these days when the path of becoming who you are tends to be marginalised with reality. Having done what I’ve done, where I’ve essentially dropped out of high school, started learning this stuff on my own, and therefore land in a position where I get to take the things I was dreaming about when I was growing up and make it real. I tend to get a lot of response from people who are also not sure what they’re meant to become, a lot of them also have the same bright imaginations and with the way the world is, the hardships of what it means to grow up tends to marginalise who you are, and I would hate that to happen to anyone because the future is in creativity and that’s not something you can just manufacture. I actually would like this show to grow up with the people, so unlike most shows where they tend to be ageless or age very slowly, I’d like our fifteen-year-old fans watching fifteen-year-old Ruby, when they’re twenty-five, to be watching twenty-five-year-old Ruby, and to actually have some resonance with the character. Probably one of my favourite types of feedback is to say “I know this person” or “this person is just like me,” and that’s probably one of the best things about coming up with these characters.

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 14:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Canon violence

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

The trip back to your small shuttle seemed to take twice as long.

“... yeah the shuttle’s still there…”

The subtle echo of voices and gear drifted across the rocky terrain and you froze. For a moment it disappeared and you’d almost convinced yourself that once again this moon was playing tricks on you.

A haggard, hacking cough sounded from around the corner where piles of slag leaned and stacked over each other creating some sort of natural shelter beside the mouth of yet another cavernous mineshaft.

You dove behind a large boulder. Kriff. Cid had said the planet was uninhabited.

Is someone else after the jewels too?

Cid hadn't mentioned that either. You were going to have a serious talk with her when you got back.

If I even make it back in one piece. You rubbed your aching shoulder. From the way this mission was going, you weren't sure just how intact you'd be.

This place is a death trap. At least I have the jewels. Hard part’s over.

The roving light of a headlamp flickered against the rocks before blinking out.

“Karabast!” came a growling curse, “Those kriffing rocks better be worth as much as you say they are, woman!”

“Relax, Nakan.” a female voice snapped, sounding exasperated. “You’ll get your money.”

Two other voices squabled further away.

“Enj! Rico! Get your asses over here!” the female shouted. She sounded human, or at least humanoid.

Crawling slowly, you peered through the cracks of the boulder, to get a better look.

A human woman paced the ground and a large Nikto crouched a few feet from the edge of a mineshaft beneath the craggy overhang of shale. Nakan, the woman had called him.

The ones she’d called Enj and Rico were Weequay - male and female. The female spat on the ground. “We’re wasting our time out here, Boss. There’s nothing here.”

“There will be!” The human crossed her arms, “You just have to trust me!”

The male Weequay said something that you couldn’t quite hear and she nodded. The Nikto got to his feet and followed the others as they continued to search for a different mine.

The voices faded off into the distance, but you waited a little longer before coming out of hiding.

Dust floated through the air, forcing itself deep into your lungs and you choked. Eyes watering, you instinctively reached, pulling the fabric of your shirt to cover your mouth and nose.

Even the air is getting worse. It burnt your lungs. Almost there.

A brief flash of alarmed confusion was the only warning before you found yourself violently acquainted with the ground once again, head forced into the dirt and arms wrenched painfully behind your back, drawing a pained squeal as air was forced from your lungs.

“Hey, boss! Look what I found!” Scaled hands dragged you to your feet, maintaining the iron grip that trapped your arms painfully behind you.

“Get off, asshole!” You spit dirt from your mouth, throwing your shoulders forward to try and yank yourself free.

A sudden click and your jaw snapped shut. The hot dedlanite barrel of a blaster burned into the skin of your forehead. Muscles stiffened as the woman from before brought the blaster down your face, resting it just below your chin, forcing it up so that she could see your face.

“Just when I thought my luck had run out!” she chuckled, “You look like shit and you know what that tells me?”

You glared.

She continued anyway, “That tells me that you’ve been spelunking around here. You find any shiny rocks?”

Any fear left in your worn out mind hardened to a spiteful anger.

Get your own shiny rocks, bitch. These are mine.

Despite the dryness of the air or how your lips cracked and screamed for relief, you spat. “Kriff off!”

Pain exploded from your cheekbone, radiating down your neck as she whipped the blaster without warning.

She slowly wiped the spit from her cheek. “Fine. We’ll do this your way then.”

She turned to one of the Weequays. “Search her. Take what you want then get rid of her.”

The Nikto merely grunted as you kicked your foot back, struggling to gain some semblance of control as he pulled already screaming shoulders ever tighter, binding your hands behind your back.

Nausea flooded passages already inhabited with the adrenaline fueled struggle. It made you dizzy.

A hand jerked the pouch from your belt, renewing the fight to aching muscles. You threw back your head, connecting with the face of the Weequay who’d stolen the stones from your belt. He cursed, dropping the stones, hands flying instinctively to his broken nose.

You reached desperately for the bag of jewels, fingers just barely brushing the fabric.

If I can’t have them, then you definitely can’t.

Another tremor rattled the ground and you watched with numb satisfaction as the small bag tumbled from the ledge into the abyss below.

The woman slammed your head into the ground once more and your vision went white.

“Go in there and get those damn stones!” she snapped over her shoulder, “I’ll take care of her myself!”

The ground began to rumble. A larger quake this time. Stones and dust were violently tossed into the air.

“Shit, just go! Get out!”

Everything was silent then, so slow that it felt as if you were floating - propelled from the edge not by a boot, but by a gentle wind.

***

The Marauder lay so peaceful after that mission.

The memory came to you suddenly as if you’d slipped into a dream, mind desperately grasping to cushion a cruel reality as you tumbled down into the dark.

Omega and Wrecker were laughing because a stray piece of Mantell Mix had landed directly in Tech’s unruly curls and stayed there unmoving. Tech had moved on into the cockpit, yet still that sticky sweet stayed put. It was only when Hunter could no longer keep the grin from his lips nor the laughter from his eyes, that he’d noticed.

That’s the part that played like a holofilm over and over again. The subtly raised eyebrow at Omega’s joyfully hidden giggles. That spark of laughter in eyes that had been serious for too long. The muscles that rippled along his neck and jaw as he held back laughter that soon broke loose and the way he breathed so easily again - momentarily free from the weight of an ever changing galaxy. He was happy.

Oh, what you would do to give him that once more.

I’m sorry, Hunter.

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

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[thoseboysinblue]

Lucky #7

Mason Mount x reader

You unexpectedly bump into Mason in Manchester after moving back home from London.

Word Count: 5900+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This was based on a dream I had. Thanks to @neverinadream as always for helping me flesh things out. Feedback always appreciated.

"Come on, Beck," you plead with your younger brother to hurry so that you can get him dropped off where he needs to be for training, "you're going to be late."

"I'm not," he rolls his eyes at you as he trails along behind you. He throws a haphazard "bye" over his shoulder as he enters the locker room to finish getting ready for training.

"Bye then," you sigh as you turn around realizing you've gotten yourself a little lost at the Carrington training grounds. You clutch onto the forms your parents asked you to drop off as you search through your messages for the name of the person you were supposed to leave them with.

"Finally," you say quietly to yourself once you find it, bumping into someone as soon as you look up.

"Y/N?" Mason chuckles as he realizes who just nearly ran him over.

"Mase, hey, sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," you shake your head at him.

"It's no problem, what are you doing here? You ok? You seem a bit frazzled," he looks at you warmly, giving you a grin that shows off his perfectly placed dimples, his brown eyes dancing playfully.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just taking care of my brother while my parents are out of town and need to turn some things into one of the administrators. I think I'm a little lost, though," you sigh as you look around.

"Maybe I can help," he smiles, glancing at the time before ushering you towards the administrative suite.

"That's sweet of you, but I'm sure you've got somewhere else to be," you offer him a smile.

"Nah, I'm good," he shrugs at you.

"I didn't realize you had a brother playing for the academy. Are you just here while your parents are out of town?" he makes small talk as he guides you through the hallways.

"Yeah, he plays for the under 13s and I moved back from London last week actually, it's a long story though," you shake your head.

"I've got time," he grins as he nudges you playfully with his elbow.

"Well, I took a new job working with the city's development department. I thought I had an apartment lined up but that fell through so now I'm living with my parents until I can figure something else out."

"That wasn't that long of a story," he chuckles, "and actually, I almost forgot you were from here."

You roll your eyes playfully at him, "well, I almost forgot you live here now," you grin.

"That hurts," he grins at you. "Here we are," he stops in front of a set of glass doors and tilts his head towards them.

"Thank you," you smile up at him as he nods before moving out of the way.

"Hey, Mase?"

"Yeah?" he turns back to face you.

"Glad to see you back out there," you grin at him.

"I'm glad to be back," he rubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Will I be seeing you around then?" he looks at you, his eyes full of hope.

"Yeah, I guess you will," you smile softly at him.

"It's good to see you," he says as he pulls you into a brief hug.

"It's good to see you too. But go, I know you've got somewhere else to be, I'll be fine now," you shove him away as he lets out a hearty laugh.

You met Mason a few years ago after becoming friends with Ben Chilwell's younger sister. She had introduced you to several of his Chelsea teammates while you were living in London and while you would occasionally swap likes on social media or chat briefly through story replies, you considered most of them friendly acquaintances more than actual friends.

You bump into Mason a couple more times over the next few days of shuttling your brother to and from training.

One afternoon as you are watching him play in an academy match against another academy team you notice several of the first team players coming over to give their support. A couple of them make their way to the sideline, while a few others take seats among the small crowd of family members. Mason glances around, a smile flashing across his face as he spots you and comes over to sit next to you.

"How are you?" he grins as he offers you one of the two hot chocolates he's holding.

"I'm good, thanks for this," you smile as you take a sip.

"No problem, thought you might be out here, and it's gotten chilly again," he says as he bumps his knee against yours and hands you the hoodie he had draped over his arm.

"I'm good Mase, you can wear it," you grin at him. "I'm a northern girl, the cold and drizzle don't bother me as much as I'm sure they bother you."

"Ok there, Elsa," he chuckles as he runs his fingers over the goosebumps that have formed on your arms, "I know you can be stubborn, but you don't have to be cold. And I've got on two layers as it is."

You shake your head in defeat, handing him your drink as you pull the hoodie over your head, thanking him again when you are instantly warmer.

"Elsa huh?" you grin at him.

"I take my uncle duties very seriously. I'm a whiz at all things princess related," he smiles as he hands your hot chocolate back to you.

"I bet you are," you chuckle.

"Which one's your brother?" he says as he turns his attention back towards the match.

"Number 7," you point towards him as he makes a perfect pass to one of the attacking players.

"'That's a good number," he chuckles as he applauds the barely off target shot taken.

"Well his name is Beck, short for Beckham, so..." you trail off, "my dad's a massive supporter of the club," you shrug.

You continue making small talk as you watch the rest of the match, Mason never failing to keep you entertained. The unintentional and glancing touches shared between you becoming more and more intentional as you spend more time together.

When your brother scores the match winning goal in the final seconds the two of you jump to your feet, cheering loudly before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug, lifting you off the ground.

Once he steadies you back on your feet, the two of you exchange a shy smile while his hand settles over your hip and he gives you a slight squeeze.

You follow him down to the sideline as he chats with some of the other first team guys while you all wait for the academy players to come over.

Your brother makes his way over to you and you quickly hug him and congratulate him on his goal and the win before he spots the first team players and moves on to talk to them.

Mason gives him a fist bump and congratulates him as well before your brother asks if he can get a picture with him.

"Tell you what, I'll take a picture with you, if you'll sign that jersey and give it to me," he nods.

"Really, you want my jersey?" your brother is genuinely surprised by his request.

"Yeah mate, I think it will be worth something someday," he smiles at him. Your heart can't help but flutter at their interaction.

"Y/N, will you take picture of us?" Mason smiles over at you.

"Wait, you know my sister?" he asks out of confusion.

"Yeah, we were friends in London" they both turn to smile at you for the picture.

You take their picture and the two of them chat for a few more minutes, Mason introducing him to the other guys before reminding him he wanted his jersey.

Once Beck leaves to go get his things, Mason turns his attention back to you.

"Will you send me that picture?" he asks.

"Sure," you nod before opening your phone and handing it to him.

"If I scroll through these pics will I find something naughty?" he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"No," you blush slightly as you smack him playfully on the arm.

"I keep those in a hidden folder, protected by facial recognition," you chuckle at him.

"That's a shame," he grins as he passes your phone back to you having sent the photo to himself.

He walks the two of you to your car, telling you to drive safely and wishing you a good night before you leave.

Once you are home and settled into bed you notice a message from an unknown number, but when you open it you see the previously sent picture of your brother and Mason.

Unknown: had fun hanging out earlier. x Y/N: If you wanted my number you could've just asked. Didn't have to be sneaky by sending yourself a picture. xx Mase: 😎 Mase: Also took a quick selfie you can save as my contact pic xx Y/N: You're actually ridiculous. You know that right? x Mase: Me? Ridiculous? Never 🤭 Y/N: Thanks for what you did with Beck earlier. He didn't shut up about it the whole way home. x Mase: it's nothing, I remember being an academy kid and hanging on every word from those first team guys. Y/N: Well, it honestly made his day. He's already set that pic as his background on his phone 🙃 Mase: I wanted to ask earlier, but I lost my nerve.... Y/N: You? Shy? Am i hallucinating? x Mase: Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow? Y/N: oh. Mase: I'll take that as a no? Y/N: no Mase: now I want to crawl under a rock Y/N: Mase, no, that's not what I meant. Mase: oh? Y/N: I can't go to dinner because I have Beck still. But you could join us for dinner if you want to. Mase: Oh 😅 that sounds good. Y/N: Not used to rejection huh? Mase: Shut it. I was bricking it. Y/N: is 7 good? Mase: 7 is perfect 😉 Y/N: I'm gonna let that slide x Mase: It's a date then xx Mase: Shit. not a date date. Mase: is it a date? Mase: Fuck me, I'm losing it over here Y/N: You ok there? Mase: I don't think so 😅 Y/N: Mase, I'll see you at 7. For dinner. With my brother. For our not a date date 😉 Mase: Kill me now please Y/N: Nah, I think I'll let you suffer a little more. x Mase: Good night, y/n. I'll see you tomorrow. xx Y/N: Night, Mase. Sweet dreams xx

The next day Mason spots you as you are picking Beck up from training and jogs over to speak to the two of you briefly.

"So, I'll see you around 7 then?" he asks flashing a shy smile towards you when you nod.

"I'll send you the address," you grin at him, your cheeks slightly flushed.

Once you're settled in the car and on the way home, your brother begins questioning you.

"Mason is coming to our house?"

"Yes," you nod, "for dinner."

"Mason Mount is coming to eat dinner at our house?" he looks at you dumbfounded.

"Yes, Beck," you chuckle, "we're friends remember?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know you were like friends friends with him. You never even told us you knew him," you can actually see the wheels turning in his brain.

"I told you I knew some of the Chelsea guys through Alex," you say as you continue driving.

"Well, yeah, but not like, come over to our house to eat dinner friends," he still keeps pushing.

"Beck, it's not a big deal, but I need you to be respectful of his privacy and don't go blabbing around that he's coming over, ok?" you speak sternly, suddenly feeling the need to protect Mason.

"I won't. But I can hang out with you right?" He gives you his best puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, of course," you grin at him.

Once you're home you check to make sure you have everything you need for dinner and you realize you forgot to pick up some bread.

Y/N: I hate to do this, but is there any chance you could stop to grab some bread on your way here? Mase: Sure. Anything in particular? Y/N: Not really, just meant to grab some French bread or something like that to toast up. Oh and I'm out of beer if you want any. Mase: Got it. See you soon xx Y/N: See you soon xx

Butterflies flutter in your chest at the fact that he seems genuinely excited to be coming over.

You head to your room and change into something a little nicer, brushing through your hair and placing a few loose curls before lightly touching up your makeup and spritzing on your favorite perfume.

You want to look nice, but not too over the top since you're just staying in for dinner.

You make your way to the kitchen and start pulling out everything you'll need and begin prepping a few things, turning on some soft music to drown out the silence.

A few minutes before seven, Mason rings the doorbell and Beck bounds down the stairs and eagerly opens the door.

"Hey," Mason smiles at you as he follows Beck into the kitchen. He sits a bag down on the counter, pulling out the bread you'd asked for, along with some beer and a bottle of wine, and a small bouquet of flowers.

"For you," he holds the flowers out towards you, a slight blush creeping up onto his cheeks.

"Thank you, Mason," you smile, also blushing slightly as you take them from him and grab a vase to put them in.

Your brother chats with Mason for a few minutes before leaving to go play video games until dinner is ready.

"What can I help with?" Mason asks as he slides his hand around your waist and gives you a light squeeze.

"Hmmm, chopping or stirring?" you grin up at him.

"I'll take over chopping," he smiles as he slides his hand over yours, taking the knife from you.

You dump the veggies you've already chopped into a pan to start sautéing them before you start slicing the bread he brought and placing it on a tray to go into the oven.

You hear Mason take in a sharp breath and drop the knife one counter. Just as you look over to check on him you he pulls his finger to his mouth.

"Did you cut yourself?" you knit your eyebrows in concern as he nods in response.

"Let me see it," you pull his hand away from his face so that you can get a good look at it.

"It's not too bad," you whisper as you wrap a towel over it and grab a bandage and ointment.

You clean the small cut and bandage it up for him as he watches you carefully.

"There, good as new," you place a kiss over the bandage without thinking. The slight brush of your lips on Mason's skin sending both of your minds racing.

"Thank you," he says, barely above a whisper as you look up to be met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and a faint smile dancing on his lips.

You watch as his eyes flick between your eyes and your lips, his tongue running along his bottom lip as his hand comes up to graze your jaw. He leans in barely as if he's considering kissing you until you both hear Beck coming back down the stairs causing you to take a step back and Mason to drop his hand away from you.

"How much longer until dinner?" Beck asks, not even realizing he just interrupted an almost kiss.

"Um, twenty minutes," you glance up at him before glancing towards Mason and noticing the faint smile still playing on his features.

He really is gorgeous, you think to yourself before shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

Satisfied with your answer Beck returns upstairs, once again leaving you and Mason alone.

"I'll finish these," you say quietly as you pick the knife up and finish chopping vegetables while Mason takes over stirring.

You continue chatting while you finish dinner, Mason bumping his hip against yours and finding subtle ways to touch you the whole time.

While you are waiting the last few minutes for the chicken you placed in the oven to finish he grabs your hand and twirls you around, both of you laughing as you dance playfully.

During dinner, your brother peppers Mason with questions about football and training and getting into the first team. You smile over at him as he continues answering question after question graciously.

You and Mason clean up the kitchen while Beck takes a shower. You grab some sweets you'd bought earlier and settle onto the couch to watch a movie. You sit next to him but leave a respectable amount of distance between you. Unhappy with how far you are from him Mason pulls your legs over his lap and inches a bit closer to you.

Every now and then it seems like he's considering kissing you, but he never musters up the courage, settling for absentmindedly drawing shapes over your legs.

Beck joins you again about midway through the movie, knitting his eyebrows at how close you and Mason seem to be sitting.

You get up to go to the kitchen to grab some more popcorn and drinks. As you are returning to the living room, you overhear you brother questioning Mason.

"Do you like my sister?" he asks.

"Well, yeah, we're friends, I like hanging out with her," Mason answers quietly.

"No, do you like like her?" Beck keeps pushing.

"Oh, well, um" Mason starts, "I mean yeah, we've known each other for a bit, I guess, I don't know her super well, but I'd like to change that," he blushes slightly.

Your brother eyes him up and gives him a stern look, "don't hurt her or I'll have to step up my brotherly duties."

"Got it, mate," he chuckles quietly.

You walk back in trying not grin about the conversation you just heard, taking your seat next to Mason.

He throws his arm over the back of the couch, not necessarily around you, but giving you a little more space to lean into him a bit, your side barely grazing against his as you offer him some popcorn.

You watch tv a bit longer before Beck heads up to bed leaving you and Mason alone again but not before saying "remember what we talked about."

"What was that about?" a flicker of a smile dances over your lips as you look at a seemingly nervous Mason.

"Just doing what I would've done with my sisters," he chuckles.

"Oh," you arch your eyebrows at him before letting out a giggle and a yawn.

"It's getting late, I should probably head out," Mason says barely above a whisper as he drops his hand over your shoulder and traces a few circles with his thumb.

"Ok," you whisper back, leaning into him a bit more.

You walk him to the front door and join him just outside.

"Thank you for dinner," he flashes a smile at you.

"No problem, glad you could join us," you grin as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"Goodnight, y/n" he whispers sending a shiver down your spine.

"Goodnight, Mase," you breathe out.

He turns to leave and makes his way down the few steps.

"Hey, Mason," you say, before thinking.

"Yeah," he turns around to face you.

"Beck is leaving around lunch tomorrow for a few away games, I have to drop him off at the training ground," you say nervously, "I'll um, I'll have the house to myself a couple of days if you want to hang out again."

"I'd like that," he grins, "a lot actually."

"Ok then" you smile back at him.

"Ok," he closes the distance between you, kissing you again on the cheek, "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon," you push up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

The next day you are standing with Beck and a few of his teammates as they wait to load onto the bus when Mason wanders over.

"Hey guys, good luck over the next few days, I know you will do well," he gives them a few fist bumps and takes a few pictures with them.

"Y/N," he turns his attention to you, "Could you give me a ride home? I rode over with Licha but he's staying for a while longer," he trails off.

"Sure, Mason," you smile at him.

After checking in with your brother for a final time to make sure he has everything he needs, you and Mason make your way over to your car.

"Hope that was convincing enough," he chuckles as he opens your car door.

You glance over to see your brother and his friends watching the two of you before they get onto the bus.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure," you giggle back as he sits in your passenger seat.

You chat as you make the drive to your house, every now and then glancing over to find Mason staring at you.

"What?" you let out a quiet laugh.

"Nothing," he blushes. "Do you remember when we first met?" he asks somewhat out of the blue.

"Um, yeah, I think it was Ben's birthday a few years ago," you shrug.

"Yeah, I think you're right," he nods, "why didn't you ever seem to want to hang out with any of us?" he knits his eyebrows.

"Oh, well, it wasn't that I didn't like hanging out with you, it's more that I was focused on school. And while Alex was used to hanging around footballers, I was a bit more intimidated by it all," you look over to him as you stop for a traffic light. "Besides you seemed to have plenty of other entertainment so I didn't figure I would be missed."

He nods again, his expression softening. "And what about now, still not sure about hanging out with footballers?

"I kind of prefer to think of you as a friend of a friend rather than Mason Mount, the footballer," you blush slightly, "hope that's ok?"

"Yeah, I think I prefer that too," he smiles, "but surely I'm not just a friend of a friend."

"Are you not?" you glance over at him, a flicker of a smile on your lips.

"No, we've sent each other messages, you've cooked me dinner, I'd say we can count each other as proper friends at this point," he winks at you.

"And for the record, I did miss you when you weren't around, I've always liked talking to you, even if it was only briefly," he nods towards the light that has turned green.

You focus your attention back on the road as he turns on some music.

You both hum along for the remainder of the drive sharing brief glances at one another.

Once you've made it to your house, Mason hops out and opens the door for you and follows you up to the front door. His hand settles gently over the small of your back as you unlock the door.

You stop once inside the door and both of you kick your shoes off, Mason immediately pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your hair.

"I've been wanting to do that since I saw you earlier," he grins shyly at you when you lean back slightly.

"So what do you want to do?" he asks quietly, his thumbs drawing circles over your hips.

"Are you hungry?" you study his face, noticing the slight freckles you've never quite noticed before.

"Always," he chuckles.

"I was thinking I would make a sandwich, would you like one?" you smile up at him as he continues running his fingers along your sides.

"I would love one," he grins.

You move to the kitchen, Mason following closely behind you as you pull out a few things to make a sandwich for the two of you.

"So I have some unpacking I need to do, living out of boxes is driving me mad," you roll your eyes, "would you mind hanging out with me while I do that, I know it doesn't sound thrilling but..."you trail off.

"Sounds perfect," he smiles, reaching over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze.

After you've eaten, Mason follows you up to your room. He glances around, taking in the various things you have hanging on the walls, studying a few of the pictures as well, including one of you and him alongside Ben and Alex after a Chelsea match.

"You've been United fan for a while then?" he says as he studies a picture of you as a young girl.

"Yeah, my dad is a supporter of the club, he was close with some of the higher ups when I was younger," you grin at the picture he's studying of you with David Beckham and your dad.

"That was his last match for United," you smile, remembering the day fondly, "I've still got that jersey."

"I was at that match, too," he smiles sitting the picture back on your desk, "you sure you don't have the wrong number 7 in your room?" he chuckles.

You shake your head, "David is far too old for me," you grin.

"David is it?" he arches an eyebrow.

"Yes, he and my dad were actually pretty good friends, he's practically like an uncle to me," you laugh quietly.

"Well that's a relief" he grins.

"I've never had a guy in here before," you look around nervously.

"Really?" he knits his eyebrows.

"Yep, my parents had a strict no boys upstairs rule when I lived here. But I guess once you've lived on your own for a while those rules kind of go out the window," you shrug.

"Well I'm honored, maybe I'm the lucky #7" he smirks. He plops down on the bed, making himself comfortable as you turn on football and drop the remote beside him.

Mason watches football while the two of you chat and you work on unpacking some of your things.

"How long do you think you'll live here?" he asks.

"I'm hoping not too long, just need to find another apartment that hopefully won't fall through at the last minute," you smile at him.

"I don't mind helping you look for a place," he smiles.

"No offense, Mase, but we don't exactly have the same budget," you giggle.

"Doesn't mean I can't help you find something though," he shrugs, "just let me know and I can make some calls, ok?"

"Ok" you nod.

As you finish unpacking what you'll need to get by until you can move into your own place you notice Mason has gone quiet. You glance over to see that he's dozed off.

You smile to yourself, admiring the peaceful look on his face while he sleeps. Quietly, you tiptoe over to the bed and pull a blanket over him. Before you can turn to move away from the bed he grabs your wrist and tugs you onto the bed with him, sitting up slightly and pulling you so that you are straddling him.

You gasp at the suddenness of his movements before settling your hands over his shoulders and then around the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

He smirks as he settles his hands over your hips, "I've been wondering when I would get some attention."

"I'm sorry I've neglected you," you giggle.

His eyes continue burning into yours and you find yourself staring at him completely mesmerized.

He glances from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, shifting slightly closer to you.

"You should do it," you whisper.

"Do what?" he arches an eyebrow at you.

"What you're thinking about doing," you study him intently, nervously biting your bottom lip.

He flashes a smile at you before digging his fingers into your sides tickling you.

You let out a squeal of laughter as he continues and flips the two of you over so that he is hovering over you, your fingertips gripping his shoulders.

He brushes your hair out of your face, tracing your jawline with his fingers.

"I really like your smile," he breathes out quietly causing you to blush slightly and a smile to creep over your features.

"Yeah, that one," he smiles back at you, licking his lips lightly before brushing them delicately against yours.

When you react by kissing him back, he sighs softly against your lips.

He kisses you slowly and gently, until you're both smiling against one another's lips.

"You're right, I had been thinking about doing that," he blushes when you nod in agreement.

You pull him in for another kiss, a bit more heat behind it as he runs his tongue along the seam of your lips, moaning quietly when you part them for him and allow him to dip his tongue into your mouth.

The way he kisses you is needy and desperate yet somehow slow and patient like he's savoring every single second of it.

When you break apart naturally, both of you are out of breath as he rests his forehead against yours and you take each other in.

He moves to lay down next to you and you turn on your side to face him while his fingers still trace your jawline and down your neck to your collarbone.

"You're good at that," you whisper quietly.

He bites his lower lip to hide his smile, "yeah?"

You nod in agreement, "you're very good with your tongue," you say before blushing when you realize how that sounds.

He arches an eyebrow, trying to hide a chuckle.

"I mean..." you trail off and close your eyes, clearly flustered, "not like that, I didn't mean it like that," you blush even harder.

He leans over and kisses you again, chuckling quietly as you slip your fingers into his hair and deepen the kiss.

"You're good with your tongue too," he pinches your side lightly as you shake your head.

"Mase," you whisper quietly as he studies your features, realizing just how pretty you are, "what is this?" you ask biting your lip.

He looks at you and blinks a couple of times.

"I'm not trying to have a 'what are we' conversation after a couple of kisses, I'm not silly enough to think this makes me your girlfriend or anything..." you start to ramble. "I just like to be honest and want to make sure we're on the same page here, are you just lonely and needing some affection? I'm not really the friends with benefits type, and if you want to see other people that's fine, I just need to kind of know, what just happened so that I'm not blindsided by anything."

He places a finger over your lips quietening your rambling thoughts before pressing his lips to yours again gently.

"I'm not expecting friends with benefits, y/n, and honestly I wasn't expecting this, but I'm not just lonely and looking for attention or anything. And I'm not seeing anyone else," he reassures you.

"I um, I'd like to just kind of see where things go if you're ok with it. I always wished when we were in London that I could get to know you better but for one reason or another we never really had that opportunity, but we do now." He smiles softly at you.

"Ok," you whisper, "but just be honest with me no matter what. If you're not feeling it then tell me, and if you want to see someone else, just give me a heads up so I don't find out elsewhere, please."

"Yeah, I can do that," he smiles before kissing you again knowing he has no intention of looking for anyone else.

"Tell me something," he says quietly.

"Anything," you whisper back.

"You and Christian seemed to always gravitate towards one another, anything ever happen there?" he asks, "it wouldn't make much difference now, Ben and I just always wondered, and he doesn't kiss and tell," he rolls his eyes playfully.

You let out a small laugh, "Christian and I are both introverts, we'd end up together when we were tired of people-ing, mostly we could just stand there in silence and no one would bother us if we were standing there together. And no, nothing ever happened there, when we did talk, it was usually about you and taking bets on the parade of girls trying to get your attention," you grin.

"Is that so?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Mmm-hmmm, we had your type nailed down to an artform," you nod.

"And what is that exactly?" he quizzes you.

"Someone outgoing, but quieter than you," you giggle, "and more of the naturally pretty type, a little curvy, but natural curves," you shrug, "how'd we do?"

He rolls his eyes, "you introverts just sit around figuring people out huh?" He laughs.

"Am I going to overwhelm you with my extroverted-ness?" he asks earnestly.

"No, not at all, it's good for me, forces me outside of my own head," you grin.

"That's good," he smiles, "I am serious about wanting to see where this goes between us, if you can overlook me being a footballer," he winks.

"Yeah, I guess I can try to overlook that one tiny thing," you grin.

The two of you continue talking and cuddling as you turn on a movie and order pizza to be delivered.

After you've eaten, you settle back in the bed and turn on another movie.

"It's late, do you want me to call for a car to take me home so that you don't have to drive me?" he asks kissing the top of your head as you snuggle against his chest.

"Did you leave an overnight bag in my car earlier?" you turn to look up at him.

"I have my training bag, with some extra clothes and kit for tomorrow," he yawns.

"Then, I think you should go get it," you smile before kissing his chest.

"You're really going to break all your parents rules aren't you?" he chuckles.

"Not all of them," you wink.

You take the opportunity to change into pajamas while he's gone to get his bag. He joins you in the bathroom while you're brushing your teeth and doing your skincare.

As you settle into bed, he takes off his shirt and joggers, leaving him in just his boxers before climbing back into the bed and sliding under the covers.

You can't help but stare at him as he does, admiring his impeccably toned body.

"I might take that back about that one rule," you giggle when he raises his eyebrows.

"As much as I would love to defile you in your childhood bedroom, I'm gonna save that for another night," he grins before pulling you in for a kiss.

"Night, y/n," he whispers against your lips.

"Night, Mase," you sigh as he pulls you against his chest.

@neverinadream @chilwellspulisic @pulisicsgirl @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @xjval

[mandarinmoons]

Thanks for the idea @spencestiel-michelle x

An uncomfortable silence filled the air as you continued to stack your items into moving boxes. You didn’t think this day would come and you were hoping that it wouldn’t lead to this, but one thing leads to another and here you were, packing your belongings to move to a new unit.

Ever since joining The FBI you wanted to work in organized crime, unfortunately you didn’t get a spot in the area you wanted to work in but were offered a position in The BAU. Hesitantly you accepted it, not the place you wanted to be in, but alas it was something. What you didn’t expect was to meet someone like him though.

On your first day at the bureau you walked out of Hotch’s office with a stack of files in your hands, trying to walk back to your desk without tumbling down on the floor in the process. Nearly halfway there you heard someone run up to you and take half of the files into their hands. As your line of sight became clear your eyes met with the person who came to help you and you felt your breath get caught in your throat.

The warmest set of brown eyes met yours, his lips turned up in a smile and you felt yourself copying him.

“Let me help you.”

You nodded and walked to your desk with the stranger tagging along, you were cursing yourself in your head for not being able to get one word out.

As the days passed and you finally mustered up the courage to speak to the helpful, and quite gorgeous man, you properly introduced yourself to him and you felt your stomach swarm with butterflies as he smiled your way and introduced himself as Spencer.

Years pass and the two of you are thick as thieves, having coffee together during breaks and the fact that your desks are right next to each other doesn’t help. Spencer was known to be a bit of a chatterbox and you were never one to shut him down whenever he had an urge to talk about something. It always ended up getting cut short by Hotch and you were a bit sad when it happened, even if you didn’t always understand what Spencer was talking about you still liked to listen to him.

And now here you were, memories of the past years replaying in your head as you and Spencer packed away your belongings. You two had never been this quiet before, it still felt unreal and Spencer was hoping that you’d tell him that this was all a cruel joke any second now, but it wasn’t. You finally got your spot in organized crime and you were leaving The BAU.

You kept sneaking glances at him every now and then, trying your best to remember all the details of the face that you loved so much because you didn’t know when the next time would come that you’d be able to see him.

He had worn his glasses for the past few days and in your head you wondered if he was wearing them as a way to trick you into staying because you had told him you loved it when he wore them, but unbenounced to you Spencer had been crying ever since he found out about your transfer and wasn’t able to wear his contacts because of that.

With everything neatly packed, you and Spencer looked at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to say something. The words you wanted to say were gnawing at you, but you weren’t able to say them.

What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he truly only sees you as a friend and you’d end up making the departure even more difficult?

You were brought out of your thoughts by the sound of Spencer clearing his throat and you shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“So this is the last of it.”

“Do you want me to help you take it to your car?”

“Oh no thanks, I’ll manage.”

“At least let me help you take it to the elevator.”

You nodded and your fingers brushed as you took a hold of the same box, you pulled your hands back so as to not cause any further electricity flow through you. Whenever yours and Spencer’s hands brushed together it always felt comforting, but now it just made you want to cry as it was a sensation you no longer had the privilege of feeling.

The walk to the elevator felt like an eternity. You kept your eyes away from Spencer because you knew you would break if you saw his gaze. You wanted to stay, or rather you wanted him to stay as a regular part of your life, but life is unfair at times and choices have to be made. It was selfish of you to think that he would come and tag along with you in another division and you knew he would laugh in your face if you were to ask him to, but a small part of you was hoping for it to happen.

The elevator doors opened and you looked back at Spencer one last time, one more glance at those eyes you loved so much, making sure you’d be able to see them every time you closed yours.

“Goodbye Spencer.”

You walked in the elevator, taking in Spencer’s body language. He seemed tense, his jaw tense and his hands stuffed deep within his pockets, he was hurting as much as you were, if not more.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

The doors shut and Spencer felt the tears pool in his eyes, why had he not said the words he was thinking of? Because he feared the same things as you, what if he ruined the departure and things would be awkward between you two. Now you both would never know how things could be.

What were those words you both thought about? I love you.

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[sweetchildcloud]

Early gift

Synopsis: Your out on a trip with the trio when something unexpected happens

Featuring: Geto Suguru-Gojo Satoru-Shoko Ieri

Contents: Geto x fem!reader-birth-natural labour-scream-pain-cute-fluff-Godfather!Gojo-Godmother!Shoko

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive

Satoru was abruptly awakened by the feel of your foot connecting with his face. He let out a groan of pain, rubbing his now reddened cheek. "What the hell?" He grumbled, squinting at you in the dark. "What are you doing, kicking me in the middle of the night?"

"Sorry...the baby won't stop kicking" you whined "where's Geto?"

Satoru grunted in response, rolling onto his back. "Geto? I think he went outside for a smoke or something. The man's got some serious nicotine cravings, let me tell you."

He looked at you for a moment, his expression softening. "Is the little one really giving you a hard time tonight?"

You nodded before huffing gripping your belly

As if on cue, the door of the inn slid open and Geto appeared in the doorway. He took in the scene before him, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of your distressed form.

"What's wrong?" He asked, moving quickly to your side and crouching down beside you.

"The baby won't stop..kicking " you huffed phanting. Geto's expression softened as he watched you struggle. "Hey, hey it's alright sweetheart" he whispered, gently rubbing your belly. "Sometimes the little ones are just active at night. It's normal, I promise."

You gripped Geto hand crying out a bit as you felt a contraction "Guys I think the baby…is.." you huffed phanting

Both Geto and Satoru sat up straighter at your words, their expressions shifting from concern to outright panic. "The baby?" Satoru repeated, his voice strained. "Now? Are you sure?"

Geto, however, was already in action. He gently helped you sit up, his hands supporting you as another contraction hit.

"Okay, okay. Let's stay calm" Geto instructed, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "Satoru,call Shoko, we need her here now. And bring some clean towels or something that can serve as a make-shift blanket for the baby."

Satoru nodded, rushing out of the room to fulfill Geto's instructions. Meanwhile, the contractions intensified, coming closer together.

"Im sorry I just ruined our trip" you huffed phanting "Hey," Geto gently grasped your chin, tilting your face towards him. His gaze was intense and serious, his eyes burning with love and determination. "You didn't ruin anything. You're bringing a new life into the world, that's one of the most beautiful things a person can do. You're amazing, do you hear me? You and our baby are everything."

You let out a sob, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion and the intensity of the situation. Geto's words, spoken with such conviction, helped to soothe your fears and doubts. He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Just then, Satoru burst back into the room, an armful of towels in his arms. "Shoko's on her way" he announced, his face pale.

"You're pale" you smiled weakly at Gojo

"Yeah, well" Gojo huffed, his voice strained with nerves. "Seeing someone give birth isn't exactly something I've done before." Despite his bravado, there was a hint of real worry in his eyes.

Satoru placed the towels next to Geto, his gaze flicking between the two of you and the door, anticipating Shoko's arrival.

You gripped Geto hand feelthe baby crowning as you huffed "Ru-ru " you huffed fast

Geto squeezed your hand in response, his other hand gently wiping the sweat from your forehead. "You're doing great, sweetheart," he assured you, his voice steady and reassuring. "Just hang in there, just a little longer."

Just then, Shoko appeared, her face set and determined. She wasted no time, quickly checking your condition and preparing for the birth.

"Alright, let's do this" Shoko said calmly, her hands moving expertly as she prepared for the birth. Geto's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes never leaving your face, while Gojo hovered nervously in the background.

The room was filled with the sounds of your labored breathing and Shoko's steady instructions.

Your screamed echoed in the room as you pushed in agony. Geto's heart clenched painfully as he heard your scream, his eyes welling with tears. He squeezed your hand tightly, offering the only comfort he could in that moment. Shoko's face was focused, her hands moving quickly and efficiently.

"One more push" she instructed, her voice steady. "You're almost there, just one more."

You whined whimpering "I can't…too much" you whined laying your sweaty head on Geto shoulder "Yes you can" Geto whispered, his voice filled with unwavering belief. He looked down at you, his expression one of tender yet fierce determination. "You are the strongest person I know. You can do this. Push, sweetheart."

Shoko nodded in agreement, her hands guiding the baby out. "Just one more push" she repeated, her voice soft yet firm.

You shooked your head weakly "mhn I can't…hurts" you whined again "Listen to me" Geto said, his voice low and commanding. He gently cupped your cheeks, his eyes burning with intensity. "You are strong. Stronger than anyone I've ever met. And you can do this. You can overcome anything. This pain is fleeting, but our child will be forever. Push, love. Push one last time for me." You sniffed whining "I want to push together.." you pleaded

Geto nodded immediately, gently repositioning himself next to you. He took hold of your hand once again, intertwining your fingers tightly. "We'll do it together," he whispered, his voice filled with love and determination. "On three. One, two, three. Push." You screamed your lungs out as you pushed,gripping Geto hand tightly almost painfully

Each scream pierced Geto's heart like a dagger, but he held firm, pouring every ounce of strength he had into holding onto your hand. "That's it" he whispered, his eyes watering with emotion. "Almost there."

Shoko moved quickly, her hands guiding the baby out. "One more push" she urged. You screamed groaning as you pushed your hand gripping Geto's tightly painfully

Geto winced, the pain of your grip shooting up his arm, but he didn’t let go. He grit his teeth, holding on fiercely. "I'm here" he whispered, his voice hoarse but steady. "I'm right here. Just one more push."

With a final, mighty push, the room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the faint, mewling cry of a newborn baby.

You collapsed breathing heavily,sweat rolling down your face with a contended expression on your face.

Geto immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, tears streaming down his face. "You did it" he whispered, his voice filled with disbelief and love. "You did it, sweetheart. You did incredible."

Shoko gently placed the baby in your arms, wrapped snugly in a blanket. The infant's cries quieted the moment it was against your chest, its tiny hand curling around your finger.

Geto pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his eyes filled with adoration. "You were beautiful" he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. He gently ran his fingers through you sweat-damped hair, his touch gentle and soothing.

The room was silent except for the sound of the newborn baby's soft coos, its small fingers grasping at your skin as it nuzzled close to your body.

Geto's arms tightened around you as you lost consciousness, his face etched with worry. He looked up at Shoko, his eyes pleading for reassurance. Shoko, her expression calm and capable, gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"She just needs rest" Shoko said softly. "This isn't uncommon. She's lost a lot of blood and energy giving birth. She'll be just fine. Just let her sleep." The baby cried hungry

Geto gently coaxed the newborn into his arms, a look of tender yet panicked fatherly love on his face. "Shhh, shh it's okay" he gently shushed the baby, slowly rocking it.

He glanced over at Shoko and Gojo, eyes wide with worry. "The baby's hungry" he whispered. "What do I do?"

Gojo, equally as panicked as Geto, spoke up, his voice filled with concern. "Doesn't…Doesn't y/n feed it?” He asked, unsure.

Shoko shot him a look before shaking her head, her face weary. "Not yet. She needs rest" she explained. "We'll make a bottle of formula. The baby can have that until she recovers."

"I can do it" you strained as your mother instinct kicking in "I.. can..give..him..my milk.." you breathed weakly

"No, no, no" Geto immediately protested, his eyes wide with concern. "You've already been through so much. Your body needs time to heal."

He looked down at the baby, its tiny face scrunched up from crying, and gently rested a hand on its tiny head. "For now, formula will be fine" he muttered, more to reassure himself than anything. "But…my baby…it needs me" you whined ending up crying too along the baby

Geto's heart ached seeing you cry, his arms encircling you firmly but gently. "I know, sweetheart" he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "But right now, you need to rest. Let me handle this, okay?"

As if to emphasize his point, the baby let out a particularly loud wail, its tiny body squirming with hunger. Gojo looked between the crying baby, his best friend, and your weak body, his nerves on edge. "Yeah, let the baby drink formula" he said hastily. "You've done enough, let me make a bottle."

With determined steps, he disappeared into the other room, leaving Geto to gently comfort you and soothe the newborn.

"what you wanna name her?" you asked looking at Geto. His eyes widened slightly, his heart warmed by the question. After a small pause, he gently rocked the baby, a smile spreading on his face. "Hanami" he said softly, the name tumbling out of his lips like a prayer. "Like the beautiful cherry blossoms that bloom in spring. She reminds me of them, fragile yet resilient, full of life despite her small size."

You nodded tiredly, a soft smile on your lips. "Hanami" you repeated, the name fitting perfectly. "It's beautiful."

For a moment, the room was engulfed in a comfortable silence, the only sound the steady breathing of the newly named Hanami as she calmed in Geto's arms.

Just then, Shoko reentered the room, a bottle filled with formula in her hands. Gojo followed closely behind, his steps surprisingly quiet for once. "We've got her milk ready" Shoko announced quietly, holding the bottle out to Geto.

Geto nodded in thanks, his focus solely on the hungry baby in his arms. He brought the bottle to Hanami's mouth, gently coaxing her to latch onto the nipple. For a moment, her tiny lips fussed, then she started suckling, her small cries quieting as she fed.

You watched as Geto fed Hanami, the sight filling your heart with warmth and adoration. Despite the exhaustion you felt, a sense of contentment blanketed over you. You had done something miraculous, not just bringing life into the world but also creating a family with Geto.

"Guys" you said at Gojo and Shoko "me and Geto were thinking about something and we wanted to know if you liked it"

Gojo and Shoko glanced at each other for a moment before nodding, both their expressions curious.

"Sure, what is it?" Gojo asked, leaning forward slightly. "do you wanna be Hanami godparents?"

Surprise flickered across Gojo's and Shoko's faces, followed by a myriad of emotions - shock, joy, and a touch of disbelief.

"Godparents?" Shoko repeated, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and happiness. "You both want us to be her godparents? Really?"

Geto nodded, a smile on his lips. "We can't think of anyone better to trust with our child's upbringing and well-being."

Gojo, his eyes already slightly misty, nodded fiercely. "You can count us in. We'll spoil her rotten."

Shoko smiled widely, a single tear making its way down her cheek. "We'd be honored" she said quietly, her voice filled with emotion.

The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the weight of this decision settling over everyone. Hanami continued nursing quietly, oblivious to the significance of the moment happening around her.

Outside, beyond the window, the night sky was blanketing the world with its inky darkness. But within the confines of this room, illuminated by the warm glow of the lamp, a new bond was forged, a new family was formed under the protective watch of those who loved this child unreservedly.

As Hanami finished her feeding, her tiny hands gently clutching at Geto's sleeves, fatigue truly began to set in for you. Your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion of birth bearing down on you. Geto gently cradled Hanami, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your shoulder.

"Rest" he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul. "We'll take care of her while you rest."

You nodded weakly, your body aching with exhaustion. The last thing you saw before closing your eyes was Geto's tender smile and the sight of Shoko taking Hanami gently into her arms, her expression filled with adoration.

The world faded away as you drifted off into a deep, replenishing sleep, the sounds of hushed voices and gentle laughter lulling you to a state of absolute peace. The people you loved had your back, your child was in safe hands, and for now, that was all that mattered.

Outside, the stars twinkled overhead, their light bathing the night in a silver glow. Within, a new family bonded together over their shared love for this tiny, perfect being. And somewhere in the distance, the soft sound of the cherry blossoms rustled delicately in the night breeze, as if murmuring a gentle lullaby to the child named Hanami.

[literary-motif]

Isaac says sth hurtful/insensitive to Pickle about their past and realizes he could've been more careful with their feelings.

Cold

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

“When did you get a new pet?” Vic asked. 

Isaac huffed, rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his whiskey. “That’s none of your business. Let’s return to the case, shall we?”

“You know,” Vic said, leaning back in his chair and looking around the room, “I’ve never seen the place so shiny before. They’re doing pretty well.”

“Vic, we are not here to discuss my housekeeper.”

He smiled, retrieving a folder of documents from his coat and placing it on the table. “It makes a nice addition to our talk though,” he said, sliding it out of Isaac’s reach as he tried to grab it. “Now tell me, did you look into them properly?”

Isaac got up, a quiet anger burning in his eyes as he looked at him. “I don’t have time for this,” he said coldly, “either you talk to me about things that actually matter here or you are welcome to stop wasting my time.”

“I don’t want you to get murdered in your own home, Isaac,” Vic said, equally cold as he held his gaze. “Enough people died here, wouldn’t you agree?”

You could feel the tension in the dining room all the way to the kitchen. 

The door was open, giving you an unobstructed view of it through the reflection of the window in front of you. Their voices were slightly muffled, but you could hear every word exchanged between them as you continued chopping vegetables for dinner. 

“Listen to me, Vic,” Isaac spat, the reminder of his family fueling his anger until he slammed his hands down on the table, glaring at Vic as he towered over him, “I can take care of things myself. They are nothing but a housekeeper, a very mild security risk at most and if you think they are part of some ploy to get to me then you should have seen them pathetically pleading for their life in that dirty alley I scraped them up from!”

“Struck a nerve there, did I?” Vic said with a smirk, passing the folder to Isaac. He got up, buttoning his suit jacket and giving Isaac another warning look. “I trust your judgment. Make sure your plaything stays on the floor.”

“With their background of licking other people’s boots, I think my pet’s quite comfortable on their knees,” Isaac said, taking the folder and leading Vic to the door to see him off.

Neither of them noticed the methodical thumping from the kitchen ceasing. You stood frozen, tears blurring your vision as you put the knife down and gripped the counter. 

Was that what he thought of you? 

You thought there was mutual respect between you. Isaac seemed so kind and understanding of your situation, making you feel appreciated and secure after years of being taken advantage of. He had helped you after you had been left to fend for yourself for the majority of your life, taking care of you and offering you a way out of your dreadful circumstances. 

Was that only a pretense? Did he just collect the most pathetic person he came across so he could help them, make them feel indebted, make them feel loved to secure their loyalty when in reality, they were only a replaceable pawn in his game, ready to be discarded the moment they ceased to be useful? 

“Pickle, I hope you got a headstart on dinner. I’m starving—” Isaac said, halting in the doorway as he saw your hunched posture and shaking shoulders. “Are you hurt? What happened?” he rushed to your side, turning you to face him and checking your hands. 

There was no blood. You seemed unharmed, and he heaved a small sigh of relief. 

You snatched your hands out of his grip, stepping back as you wiped the tears from your face. Isaac looked up, his heart seizing painfully in his chest when he looked into your bloodshot eyes. 

Your expression was anguished. You looked hurt. He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat as he saw you crying in front of him. 

“I— I need to talk like that in front of him,” he said, hearing his heart thundering in his chest. 

He had not meant what he said, but it was exactly what Vic needed to hear to stop breathing down his neck. He needed to keep up the uncaring and detached facade he put up. It was imperative in his line of work. 

“Pickle, I never meant—”

“I am not well,” you croaked, cutting him off. You needed to get away from him, curl up on your bed, and piece back your shattered heart because the only person you had allowed yourself to trust in years had betrayed you as well. “You said I get sick leave. I am not well, so I can’t finish dinner. There are leftovers in the fridge. Leave the kitchen as it is. I will clean up tomorrow morning.”

“Pickle,” Isaac said, taking hold of your wrist and stopping you from leaving. “You have to understand I didn’t mean any of it. I—”

You tugged your arm free, not turning to face him as another wave of tears crashed over you. “Goodnight, sir,” you gasped, quickly walking to the door but halting before leaving the room.

A small sliver of hope lit up Isaac’s eyes as he waited, quickly extinguished again at the words you uttered.

You took a shaking breath, wiping the tears from your face again. You turned to face him. “I don’t require coddling. If you think I’m your pet and you want to play master, say it and stop making a fool out of me!”

Isaac watched you leave, his chest tightening with regret with every choked sob he could hear coming from your bedroom. He cursed himself for being so careless, taking your past and spinning it into something to appease his colleagues. 

With time, he hoped you could forgive him. With time, perhaps he could earn back your trust. 

[goldkirk]

.

[in1-nutshell]

For the Ratchet and Drift adoption battle.  

The Lost light ends up on earth for some reason.  And trouble appears, Buddy’s birthparents.  Coming out of the woodwork demanding to see their child.  Now, depending on how long Buddy has been in the system, the state may have already relinquished their parental rights, but it does bring up another problem, by cybertron standards, Buddy is legally Drifts and Ratchets, Earth standards, less so.

This is just the start of an idea.  Maybe it's angst and the parents are a piece of shit who want the child who they abandoned back for some really selfish reason.  Maybe the parents truly do want some relationship with their child and poor buddy is just stuck in between the family that loves them and the family who they spent their life wishing loved them.

Maybe I just want the lost light to turn this custody battle into a fucking kangaro court.  They show up in their holoforms and Rodimus starts to boo whenever the birth parents try to say something.  He’s kicked out and the court goes into recess as they try and figure out how to hold him in contempt of court.  Luckily a good part of the remaining crew have assembled to always have someone audibly cough whenever birth parents try to speak.  Nevermind the fact that none of them even really need to breathe, holoform or no holoform.  And Ultra Magnus is acting as their attorney.  That's all I got.

The bio parents were done for the moment Magnus took on the case.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy (Dratchet's kid) meeting their bio parents again

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight angst, Human reader

MTMTE

The ship had docked again on Earth for a mandatory, in-person, meeting that Buddy needed to go as liaison of the Lost Light.

It was something simple check in that honestly could have been done online but there wasn’t any harm in some sightseeing. Many of the bots on the ship hadn’t been on Earth or hadn’t been there in a while and wanted to look around.

Buddy stayed with Drift and Ratchet.

Before they headed back to the ship, Buddy wanted to show their bot parents one of their favorite parks they used to go to feed the pigeons.

Ratchet napped in the parking lot, while Drift activated his holoform to go after Buddy.

After a bit Drift started heading back to his alt mode with Buddy trailing behind after forgetting their water bottle at the bench.

Buddy walking back to Drift alt mode.

“Hey kiddo!”

“Buddy turns around and freezes as their face collides with someone’s chest.

A familiar chest.

They push themselves off the person as another person comes up too.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”--Buddy

“That’s what I’d like to know.”--Drift

Buddy looks behind them to see Drift’s holoform marching up to Buddy.

He gently places his hand on their shoulder and looks at the two humans.

“A who might you be?”--Drift

“I’m their father.”--Dad

“And I’m their mother.”--Mom

Drift raises his eyebrows.

“Buddy are they…”--Drift

“My biological parents? Yes, and I thought I’d never see you again after you put me in the system.”--Buddy

Neither of the parents get the little hint of venom in their voice.

“Well, we’re here now! And its time to take you home—”--Mom

“Take them home?”--Drift

“Take me home?”--Buddy

“That’s right Pal—”--Dad

“My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

“Whatever, we’re going home now, so if you’d just come here.”--Dad

The ‘Dad’ tries to grab Buddy’s wrist, but Drift pushes Buddy back.

The ‘Dad’ narrows his eyes at Drift.

“Are we going to have a problem here?”--Dad

Drift narrows his eyes as well.

“I think we are.”--Drift

Buddy’s eyes widen.

“Listen everyone, HE is legally my main guardian. Has been with my other guardian for a while now.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ huffs.

“Well until WE see the paperwork, if its not justified by the court here then its null and void for us. Now get over here and—”--Mom

“And what’s happening here?”--Ratchet

Buddy smiled at Ratchet’s holoform coming overlooking more annoyed than usual.

“These are Buddy’s biological parents.”--Drift

Ratchet’s eyes narrow and stands by Buddy’s side.

“The parents that put you in the system?”—Ratchet

“Yep.”--Buddy

The ‘Mom’ starts getting more annoyed.

“That’s in the past and we’ve already settled a court order to get Pal—”--Mom

“Buddy.”—Buddy, Drift and Ratchet

“—Back to us.”--Mom

Ratchet turns to Buddy.

“Wait in the ambulance.”--Ratchet

“But—”--Buddy

“Kid, trust me. We need to have a chat with your ‘parents’.”--Ratchet

Buddy looks at them all before walking to Ratchet’s alt mode.

Buddy wordlessly goes to the ambulance while the muffled yelling was heard outside.

They just strap themselves in the back and hug themselves tightly.

Everything went so fast…

They felt their seatbelt tighten.

It’s a heavy quiet on the drive back to the ship.

When they transformed Ratchet passed them to Drift who just holds them to his chassis.

A crew meeting was called.

“So, Buddy’s bio parents want them back because, and I quote ‘We want to embrace them once again!’. Am I missing something?”--Rodimus

“That’s about it.”--Drift

Half of the bots laugh.

“Good luck with that! Buddy’s legally Dratchet’s kid!”--Whirl

“Whirl we’ve talked about the name—”--Cyclonus

“Yeah! They’re Dratchet’s kid!”--Tailgate

“…Why do I even bother with you?”--Cyclonus

“But they did bring up a point, Earth courts and legal system don’t see Buddy as their kid. Meaning to them, Buddy’s still in the system. And if they play their cards right…”--Megatron

Drift and Ratchet stiffen at the thought.

The crew starts talking amongst themselves but all feel angry at this revelation.

“We can’t let that happen!”--Nautica

“That’s why we’re going to court to fight for Buddy’s case. Ultra Magnus has agreed to represent Buddy—”--Megatron

“Those Fleshy’s are so screwed!”--Whirl

Time to take this to court.

Buddy is put into a different home while the case gets settled.

Meaning no contact with anyone.

There had been attempts by the bots to go and see Buddy, but they complied hearing that any visit could jeopardize their position in custody.

Thank goodness Magnus was there to help with the court case and legal things.

Also to help mediate the humans and the bots ‘immature’ actions.

So many of the bots in their holoforms were making obnoxious noises (cough* Rodimus and Whirl*cough).

There were more breaks because of this.

No one of the bots are happy to see the parents when come to the stand, fuming when the pair put on an act.

Even going as far as stating that Drift and Ratchet were unfit parents, not being the same species.

Something strange happens the day when Buddy is supposed to take the stand.

Everyone is asked to come back the next day for the final verdict.

All the bots are confused and worried.

Ratchet and Drift are especially worried about what happened.

Today would have been the first time the pair or anyone would have seen Buddy, and all of a sudden, the day they are supposed to take the stand no one is allowed to see them?

Something is wrong and they can feel it.

The pair find solace in each other while riding high on anxiety.

What if the court decided they truly weren’t fit to raise their human kid?

Would Buddy have to leave the Lost Light for good?

There were too many questions going through their processors right now.

The next day Magnus is updated on what happened yesterday.

The next day the bots and bio parents come in.

Buddy is sitting behind a desk far from everyone else in the room with a guard by their side.

“Ultra Magnus and the crew of the Lost Light, in the case of the legality of the adoption document of Buddy, the jury recognizes that Drift and Ratchet are the legal guardians and will be formally recognized in the system here on Earth.”--Judge

All the bots are floored and cheer hearing the news.

Ratchet and Drift smile the happiest of the bunch.

“Excuse me? What makes these aliens even fit to raise a human child, our child Pal—”--Mom

“Their name is Buddy, Fleshy.”—Whirl and most of the bots

Magnus clears his throat getting everyone’s attention.

“To begin with, you two are charged with attempted kidnapping and aggravated assault of a minor.”—Magnus

The bots behind him eyes go wide.

The parents themselves go pale.

The police start cuffing the bio parents as they squawk in shock.

“What is the meaning of this!? Unhand us!”--Mom

“You have no right—”--Dad

“IF I may!”--Magnus

Magnus ‘clears his throat and intently stares at the parents with hatred in his holoforms eyes.

“You attempted and succeeded in breaking and entering the home where Buddy had been staying and attempted to take them to an unknown location against their will. They fought the both of you off sustaining injuries to both hands and you two fled the scene on foot back to your respected household to pretend that this ‘incident’ never happened the next day.”--Magnus

The bots behind him have a mixture of shock and anger on their faces.

Drift is glaring at the parents wanting nothing more than to punch them square in the jaw.

Ratchet is trying to look over at Buddy for any injury he could spot from where he was sitting.

Magnus looks at Buddy.

“Buddy, if you may show your hands.”--Magnus

Buddy reveals thick bandages on both arms and hands.

“I do believe that is enough evidence. The biological parents are set to a new court date to address these charges. The court once again recognizes Drift and Ratchet as Buddy’s legal guardians, court dismissed.”--Judge

With the swing of the gabble the parents are escorted out screaming and kicking, while Buddy is escorted to a different door.

Once the bots are outside, they can see Buddy running to them with arms wide open.

Drift and Ratchet open their arms as Buddy crashes right into them crying and wrapping their arms around them.

Drift is crying and ratchet is on the borderline of doing so too.

Ratchet carefully looks at Buddy’s wrapped hands.

“Those two good for nothings just wanted to get me back to get my income.”--Buddy

“We can add more charges to their case.”—Magnus

“We can jump them!”—Whirl

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“I think the grapefruit sized marks are enough for now.”--Buddy

Buddy pulls out a wrench from their pocket.

“Learned how to throw from the best.”—Buddy

Ratchet hugs them again as Drift joins in a second later.

The bots all head back to the Lost Light.

Ratchet and Drift never letting go of Buddy for an instant.