#this started because he told me I had to drop everything to watch them because he decided to leave town and won’t get a sitter

[coloursflyaway]

I Will Hold Your Hands To Stop Them From Shaking

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 9.000

Read on AO3

“You don’t have to know how to dance”, Charles says, and he is so close that Edwin can make out the shadows each eyelash paints onto his face. If he had a breath still, the sight would take it. “I never learnt it either. Just move with the music, and I promise that if I spin you ‘round, I won’t drop you.” _____ It doesn't take Charles forever to figure out the rest.

Watching Charles move is easy. Maybe it’s the easiest thing in Edwin’s life right now; it’s definitely something that he hasn’t only started recently, but something that he has always done. Even before he knew what it meant. Because it is so easy.

Everything about Charles seems to be in motion, like motion is what he is deep inside, bright and fluid and everywhere at once, because no place can hold him. None deserves to hold him, not for long. Crystal once told him that Charles used his brightness, his smiles and his constant movement, to cover up all the pain in his past, but Edwin secretly disagrees: there is some of that, he can see that now, but that’s not where it comes from. Where it comes from, that magnetism that ensures that everyone they have ever met grows to love him, is just Charles. Just who he is inside, and who he always would have been, had they not tried to beat it out of him when he was still alive.

And love him, they do. Crystal most certainly does, Jenny almost smiled at him two days ago, and even their new minder – who Charles insists on calling Charlie – seems to struggle to push down a growing affection towards him. She will lose, Edwin knows it for certain. It’s beautiful to see, because that is just what Charles deserves, and it’s… it’s difficult at the same time. Or rather, it was a little easier when there was only Edwin who loved him.

Because love him, he does. Looking back, it’s almost impossible to believe that it has taken him thirty years to realise it, that it took a crow-turned-boy to make him see, a cat king who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, but oh, he loves him.

Loves him to a point where he almost feels like he has a heart again, because he thinks he can feel it beating, just like he thinks he can feel it stop when Charles touches him, smiles at him, gets out that new cricket bat they got and twirls it just to show off. Loves him so much that he feels like it’s not only the reason why he was put on this Earth, but why he died, why he crawled out of hell and why he was permitted to stay here after all. And looking back at it, it was all worth it for a single moment of watching Charles sing a Joan Jett song to himself, spinning in between his steps when he thinks he’s alone.

“I’m voting for the bloke who got mysteriously shanked at the Troxy”, Charles casts in his lot, twirling a pen he is not writing with between his fingers. He’s positively glowing in the warm, late afternoon sunlight. “You just want to go to a concert venue”, Crystal interjects, raising a perfect eyebrow, before chucking a piece of nectarine at him. Charles catches it effortlessly, of course he does, and tosses it right back. They look positively domestic, sitting on opposite sites of the couch they got for their human co-detective, playing with fruit. Edwin aches.

“So what? Nothin’ wrong with having a bit of fun on the job, is there?”, Charles is grinning, looks over at Edwin, who tries not to notice that the brightness of his smile doesn’t waver for a second. “C’mon, mate, back me up here!” “I’m afraid that merely getting stabbed doesn’t sound like something that would necessitate a supernatural investigation”, Edwin answers, and even then, the light doesn’t dim in Charles’ eyes. “I’m sure the normal, living police is more than enough for that.”

“You guys are no fun”, Charles whines and catches another piece of fruit from mid air. “Also, I’ll have you know that the Troxy’s a nice place, people don’t just get stabbed in there.” “Well, apparently they do now.”

“Can you please wipe that smug smirk off your face”, Crystal hisses just after the bouncer waves her through the doors of the Troxy. Edwin, who can only see the back of Charles’ head, still knows that he absolutely doesn’t. “What, I’m only happy to go and see a gig with my mates!”, he shoots back, and Edwin watches the little skip in his step, like he is dancing to a beat that hasn’t started playing yet. “And do a bit of work on the side, of course.”

It’s difficult to regret the decision to take this case, because Charles is glowing, has been since Crystal purchased the ticket to the concert this afternoon. Edwin does not know the act that will be performing and he doubts Charles does either, but that doesn’t seem to matter for a second.

The other two bicker for a few more moments while Edwin tunes out of the conversation to check their surroundings – they are here on a case after all – until Charles spins around on his heels, looking at Edwin expectantly. “Well, have you ever? Was that even a thing in your time?” “Excuse me?” “Been at a gig, mate!” Charles spreads his arms like he is trying to show Edwin all the wonders of the world, his smile so wide it seems to split his face apart. Edwin’s metaphorical heart gives out for a second.

“I haven’t had the, uh, pleasure, yet”, Edwin answers, even while he tries to avoid touching anything in his near vicinity. It’s sticky, just looking at it. “I wish I could tell you that I know you’re gonna love it, but I guess we’ll have to see about that”, Charles tells him, half laughing, and Edwin finds himself smiling, too.

He knows he’ll end up loving it, even if not because of the reason Charles is thinking of.

“Just let us enjoy, like, three songs”, Charles all but begs when the show finally starts. “I swear, after that I will be good and I won’t complain at all when we go work. Just three.” Crystal is holding onto the drink she bought earlier, but she doesn’t say anything, just turns to look at Edwin. Who is powerless to do anything but nod. “Aces! Thanks, Edwin.”

And Charles slings an arm around his shoulders for a second, pulls him into an almost hug, before he turns back to the stage, leaving a cloak of warmth across Edwin’s upper back. Music starts playing, but he doesn’t really notice it, and why should he? Charles is cheering and clapping and moving with the rhythm, and even if Edwin cannot see his face, he can see the joy in him so clearly that it is burnt into the inside of his eyelids every time he blinks.

Charles is the sun, he’s radiance personified, he’s-

He turns around to face Edwin, the music temporarily stopped as the singer says some words into the microphone, and he extends a hand, palm facing upwards. “Do you wanna dance? Shouldn’t leave your first concert without having danced at least once.” Charles is smiling, but it’s different now, encouraging somehow.

It works, because Edwin’s body is moving before he knows it, hand reaching out to take Charles’ like it is nothing when it’s everything instead, when it’s like he can feel the weight of Charles’ fingers in his. “I’m not a prolific dancer, I’ll have you know”, he mutters when Charles pulls him closer, even though chances are that Charles figured that out himself quite easily. “Don’t have to be”, comes the answer, and Charles is so close now that Edwin can make out the shadows each eyelash paints onto his face. If Edwin had a breath still, the sight would take it. “I never learnt it either. Just move with the music, and I promise that if I spin you ‘round, I won’t drop you.”

Another smile, one that Edwin reciprocates, and then the band starts again and Edwin is still not listening to the music. Instead, he is trying to follow Charles when he starts swaying to it, distributing his non-existent weight from one foot to another. It seems to be working because Charles laughs, head thrown back and happiness painted in broad strokes across his entire being, and puts a hand on Edwin’s side, like he is trying to guide him. Like Edwin wouldn’t follow anywhere he is going anyway.

“You’re getting it!”, Charles shouts at him over the music, too loud and yet not loud enough, and then Charles is lifting their joined hands for everyone and no one to see, the hand on Edwin’s hip giving him a little push and Charles is spinning him. Doesn’t drop him, just like he promised. It’s silly and a little immature and it makes Charles laugh and Edwin follow suit; it’s wonderful and thrilling, and then Charles glances behind Edwin’s shoulder at Crystal.

Who he would rather be dancing with, of course. But who has been to concerts before, and who might garner attention they do not need when being spun by an invisible hand.

Charles’ eyes dart back to his, and his smile is the same, and Edwin thinks, thank you, thank you for this, and means it.

They don’t find much, but for once, that doesn’t matter too much to Edwin, because Charles keeps glowing for days afterwards. There’s an extra spring in his step that carries him all the way up to the victim’s flat, where Crystal finds the clue that leads them to their rather unsatisfying explanation to their mystery: the brother of a mistreated ex-girlfriend, who saw an opportunity for anonymous revenge. It’s worth it, all of it, every time.

“But if you haven’t tried it, how do you know it doesn’t work?”, Charles asks, partly incredulous, partly amused. “You might be able to eat! Do you know how much I miss eating? What I would give for, let’s say, a day where I could eat again?” Charlie, since she hasn’t settled on another name yet, scoffs, and primly sits down on the sofa. “As I have explained, I have no interest in trying any kind of sustenance that is offered here on the mortal plane. The thought disgusts me.”

Charles groans and flings himself back onto the armchair – they keep getting more and more furniture, it seems – so that his head is hanging off it, upside down, looking at Edwin. “Edwin, I’m right, yeah? You know that I’m right.”

“He’s right”, Edwin tells Charlie, and even upside down, Charles’ smile lights up the entire room.

It’s late at night, around four a.m., Crystal is asleep and Charlie hasn’t shown her face in the office in the last few days, so it’s just them. Nights like this are Edwin’s favourite – he has never spoken it aloud, but he suspects Charles knows anyway, might even feel the same occasionally – and they have become… not rare, but less frequent than they used to be, because Crystal has no established sleeping schedule and Charlie drops in whenever she feels like it anyway. But, oh, Edwin has missed them.

They do not have an active case right now, will probably pick a new one come the morning, so it really is just them. Charles is trying to balance a ball on his cricket bat, spread out on the couch he seems to enjoy much more than he wants to admit, Edwin has just picked out a new book after finishing his last one, and there is space left between Charles’ feet and the armrest on the sofa. It’s not a choice Edwin makes, sitting down next to him. Where else would he go?

There is enough room for both of them, and yet Charles lifts his legs when Edwin approaches, even though it means dropping the ball right into the hollow between his neck and chest. And he lets Edwin settle there, caught between the cushions and Charles’ feet, as if it is the easiest thing in the world. And really, it is.

Without thinking, Edwin rests one hand on Charles’ ankle, fingers circling his leg, while he picks up the new book, a novel this time. Charles does the same with his ball, throwing and catching it when it comes back down a few times, before putting it back on the cricket bat. It’s familiar, it’s new; it’s how Edwin wants to spend eternity.

“Watcha reading?”, Charles asks eventually, after the ball has dropped another three times, and while being interested in Edwin’s reading isn’t that uncommon for Charles, it startles Edwin slightly. He glances over at Charles, who looks like he has been watching Edwin for some time, and shows him the cover. “East of Eden”, he tells him for good measure, “a novel, for once.” “Even though you don’t have a friend to talk about them with anymore?”

Charles seems genuinely curious, and while Edwin does occasionally finds himself missing Monty and their conversations, it still seems like an odd thing to ask. “Of course I have someone to talk to about them. I have you, don’t I?” Although it takes a moment, it makes Charles smile; he looks almost a little wistful and Edwin isn’t sure if he likes that expression on his handsome face.

“Well, yeah. But it’s not like I can talk back about them, innit?” Charles tosses the ball again, catches it effortlessly, and maybe Edwin has to stop with the novels after all, because for a second he thinks, just like he has caught me every time I needed catching. “I could read it to you, if you wanted me to?”

He doesn’t expect much – Charles doesn’t enjoy books like Edwin does – but Charles nods immediately, tosses the ball again, catches it, and looks at Edwin with a smile that fits his face much better. “Yeah, I’d like that. A lot, actually.”

“I am telling you, this is something the police will be able to solve on their own, and if it isn’t, they should most likely lose their jobs, because they are incredibly incompetent”, Charles repeats for what feels like the sixth time, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He just so stops himself from rolling his eyes. Crystal has become a somewhat valued member of the detective agency, however, sometimes, it is like she simply doesn’t want to understand what he is telling her.

“They have been trying to solve it! For two weeks!” Crystal looks as exasperated as Edwin feels, which, at least, is some comfort. Maybe the frustration will make her more likely to give up her ludicrous idea of helping with a perfectly run-of-the-mill hit and run. “Charles! Back me up on this!”

For a second, Charles just looks between them, obviously amused, then he throws an arm around Edwin’s shoulders, squeezing him close to his side. “Sorry, Crystal”, he replies, and Edwin can hear the smile in his voice, wants to trace it with his fingertips, “I’m with my best mate on this one.”

“You wanna read to me again?”, Charles asks that same night after Crystal has gone to bed, lifting his legs to make room for Edwin. As if he knew his answer already. He does.

“I didn’t think you enjoyed the story this much”, Edwin remarks as he settles down between the sofa and Charles’ legs, reminded once more that this might be his favourite place in the world. His hand finds Charles’ ankle, only that this time, he touches not only fabric, but skin as well. “It’s alright”, Charles replies, shoots Edwin a little smile. “I’m mainly enjoying you reading it to me.”

If he had still a heart to pump blood through his astral body, Edwin is certain he would be blushing, because of Charles’ words, the sliver of skin pressing against his palm, or both.

Slowly but surely, it becomes a regular thing between them. Once or twice, occasionally even three times a week, Charles will look up at him from the sofa, lift his legs in invitation, and say, “Read to me?” And Edwin will slide into the best place this world has to offer, put his hand around Charles’ thin, graceful ankle, and start reading to him about the Salinas Valley.

Things are quiet, for their standards, because they are approaching Halloween and the ghosts are preparing for it like the living do, perhaps more so, when Charles looks up from the strange tablet computer Crystal is trying to get them to use. Charles, admittedly, is much better at it than Edwin, but at least in Edwin’s eyes, that was to be expected.

“This might be interesting”, Charles says and turns the device around so Crystal and Edwin can see. “A magician’s assistant went missing during a show, her body was found half an hour later, but halfway across the country. And in two places. They have no idea how she got there, it should be impossible. Nor how she got cut in half. Sounds supernatural to me, doesn’t it?”

Edwin scans the article for a second; it does sound interesting, sounds supernatural, but… “We don’t exactly have a client though, do we?” “I know, but I’m sure that if we find the ghost of that assistant, and she hasn’t passed on yet, she would be interested in solving it. And it would be a proper mystery again, you love those.” Charles smiles at him, because he knows he has won already; Edwin does love those. Slowly, he nods.

“Great. Crystal? You’re on board?” This time, he needs to do no convincing at all, because Crystal is grinning already. “Oh, absolutely. Magical nonsense with an actual magician? I’m so in.”

They take the train to Cambridge, where the body was found after disappearing in Manchester, and Edwin bites back every comment he might make about how much quicker it would be to travel via mirror. His point still stands, of course, but Crystal is now part of the agency, and, mostly against his will, Edwin has started to grow fond of her. And more importantly, Charles has. So they file into the small, dingy train wagon, where Crystal has booked not one, but three seats for them. It’s thoughtful, if not frugal, but as Crystal reassured Edwin when he brought it up, her parents have more than enough money and also owe her something for not even noticing when she disappeared.

It makes sense, in a way.

So they sit down, Crystal pulling out the tablet computer and a pair of oversized headphones, making it look like she is talking to someone over the internet instead of them. Quite a clever disguise, Edwin has to admit.

“So, I think the best plan of action is to first go to the site where they found the body. If the ghost is still on the mortal plane, then she might be hanging around. And if not, Crystal can maybe read something around the place, find out about what happened that way.” Charles says, and snatches Edwin’s spare pen right from his breast pocket to twirl it between the elegant fingers Edwin usually tries not to notice. “And anyway, we are getting out of town for a bit again, and that by itself is pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

Exciting might not be the word Edwin would choose, but he has to agree that a change of scenery is welcome. He nods, while his gaze follows the motions of his pen, the flex of tendons under Charles’ skin. When he looks back up, Crystal is watching him with an expression he cannot quite place.

“I don’t think I have ever been to Cambridge”, she finally says, although Edwin can hear the expression in her voice still. “So, yeah, sure. Nice to see something else. How about you guys?” “We were there in, what? ‘92, maybe? Definitely in 2006”, Charles replies, not noticing the expression at all, but then again, it isn’t directed at him. “The case of the missing sledgehammer and the Coca Cola vending machine, and the one with the electric monk.”

“I would posture that the first case had more to do with the man that went missing, but otherwise, Charles, you are quite correct”, Edwin replies, and he is not thinking about how they were back then, not wondering if, even twenty years ago, he had been this hopelessly in love with Charles. He suspects he was, but he is too good a detective to allow himself to spend more time wondering about it, lest he lose himself in the question.

“The electric – you know, all things considered, I don’t want to know, just forget I almost asked”, Crystal starts, then stops again, making Charles laugh. “Don’t worry, explaining the whole thing would take too long for this train ride anyway”, he comments, “and I would rather just enjoy it. Haven’t been on a train in a long time, have I?”

“And how does one enjoy a ride on the British National Rail? I don’t think that has ever been done before”, Crystal asks, but Charles just smiles. “Like this”, he answers and turns around so he faces the window, settling back against Edwin’s shoulder to use him as a backrest. The position is slightly awkward, doesn’t seem like one in which Charles will truly be able to enjoy the view, so Edwin adjusts his body slightly, turning it towards Charles’ back and puts the arm Charles is resting against over his shoulder, leaving it stretched out across Charles’ chest. Who grasps his wrist like Edwin does his ankle when he reads to him, holds onto it and settles back like they have done this a thousand times before. They haven’t, but Edwin allows himself the quiet hope that maybe, they will.

The expression doesn’t leave Crystal’s face for the entire train ride.

They arrive at their destination, a street corner with a quite charming looking French restaurant and a church on either side. Apparently they had found half of the woman’s body in the courtyard of the church, the other half in some bushes across the street, but, as Crystal informs them while reading off her phone, without any blood around the pieces. It is mysterious, and Edwin would be lying if he wasn’t itching to solve the puzzle.

To speed things up, they split apart, with Charles and Crystal going to the church, where the top half of the body was found, while Edwin walks over to the small square on the other side. Finding the spot where they had found the corpse is easy enough; police tape is boxing it in and the bushes are trampled around it to the point where Edwin almost pities them.

He walks through them, grateful that the twigs and thorns cannot snag at his spectral clothing, but there is nothing to be found that the police, or their boots, have left untouched. And just as Crystal said, not a single drop of blood that would suggest someone’s cleaved-in-half body had been left there just two days earlier. It is disappointing until he hears his name called from behind him, Charles running up to him with his curls bouncing, his steps light and sure. He’s a vision, just like he always is, and Edwin loves him to the point where it feels like it is splitting his body apart at the seams.

“Edwin!”, Charles calls out again and comes to a halt in front of the police tape. “We found the ghost! And she is even willing to pay!”

Amina, as the ghost in question is called, turns out to be a woman in her late twenties, with long, dark hair and a faint German accent, wearing something akin to a 1920s cocktail dress which she had apparently died in, although there is nothing left to suggest she had ever been split into pieces. “This is Edwin, my partner”, Charles introduces him, and Amina gives him a smile that looks practice and sincere simultaneously. “Well, you are a delightful addition”, Amina comments, her voice deep and warm, one eyebrow elegantly arched.

“I strive to be, at least”, Edwin replies, “Now, can you tell us anything about what happened to you?” “Of course. It isn’t much, though. I was on stage, and we were about to perform one of our usual tricks. Nothing crazy, just your standard disappearing assistant. Arnold did his speech, like he always does, then I stepped into our little cabinet and he pulled the curtain shut, so I could get into the hidden compartment below the stage.” She pauses for a moment, then adds, “Actually, I only remember opening and stepping into it, not getting inside. And then I found myself here, in Cambridge, where we had been only a few nights ago with the show. Not too far from where we had been staying, actually.”

“So you recognised the place?” “After a little while. At first, I was just very confused.” She shrugs her shoulders, one of the straps that holds up her dress falling down; she doesn’t fix it. “But my grandmother was a medium and used to talk about ghosts quite a lot, so I caught on relatively quick, all things considered. I spent some time trying to figure our what had happened myself, but now you and your little trio of detectives are here, so at least I will be able to sort this out before I pass.”

Edwin has the distinct feeling that she’d take a drag from a cigarette if she could, but like this she just stops talking, a moment of silence stretching between them.

“I tried to do a reading, but all that I could find out about this place and how Amina ended up here, is that she did. A flash of light and then there was a dismembered torso lying on the ground”, Crystal eventually says, gesturing at the floor. “Not exactly helpful, is it?” “Well…”, Edwin starts, glances over to Charles and realises that they are thinking the same thing. Charles is quicker.

“What colour did the light have?”, he asks and Edwin can’t help but smile at him; Charles gives him the quickest of looks, one corner of his lips upturned. “The colour?”, Crystal asks back, a second slower than expected, “Sort of…. green, I guess? Does that mean anything?”

But Charles is already looking at Edwin, the smile fully formed, and it’s in unison they say, “Oh, yes.”

It’s a spell, of course it is, but it’s more than that: it’s a portal, and a shoddily made one, too. Edwin tries to explain, but he, quite honestly, doesn’t have the patience for it, so in the end, Charles takes over. Sits Amina and Crystal down and goes through it step by step: that the portal was done by someone who obviously didn’t have the practice, that it worked well enough to transport half of Amina at a time, but not all of her, and that that is why there was no blood. That the only question is if it was done maliciously or by accident.

“Your magician, the one you work with, is he, you know. A real magician?”, Charles asks, keeping his voice soft and sweet, although Edwin isn’t certain Amina needs it. For someone recently murdered, she is taking it in stride. “Oh no, it is all an act”, she answers easily, “Nothing but slight of hand, tricks, that kind of thing.” “So no way he could have created the portal?”

“I don’t think so? And why would he want to? The whole point is that I come back after I disappear, so getting me here, cut in half, would defeat the purpose, don’t you think?” She looks at them, one by one. “Also, Arnold, he is a little bit of a dork, but he is kind. Has a bit of a crush on me, if I’m being honest. It’s… sweet. Or something.” She smiles, almost pityingly, in a way that, if Charles had looked at him like this when he had confessed his feelings, would have broken the heart he doesn’t have into the smallest pieces. Edwin hopes against all hope that Amina never let her magician see that smile.

“Okay, so-”, Charles starts, and there is something wrong with his voice; when Edwin looks over at him, there is something off about his expression, too. Like there is something he wants to say but can’t. For a second, their eyes meet, then Charles focusses back on Amina. “We’ll still talk to him. After all, it was his cupboard the portal was in. Anyone you could think of that might have wanted to harm you otherwise?”

Amina shakes her head, and Charles nods, but the smile he gives her looks almost frail.

Once they’re on the platform for their train to Manchester, and Crystal has left them behind to get herself a few snacks for the ride, Charles suddenly turns to him. “Edwin”, he says, and there is an urgency in his voice that Edwin doesn’t associate with it at all. “I just- you know that that is not how I think of you, right?” “What?” “Like Amina”, Charles tries to explain, and if possible, he sounds even more urgent, more intense. “I don’t see you how she talked about her magician friend. Arnold. I never will. I never could. And I need you to know that.”

Standing there, he looks so earnest, so fierce, that Edwin wishes it still could take his breath away. Because it doesn’t matter that Charles isn’t in love with him, as long as he loves him like this: fully, completely, enough to be afraid that Edwin might be hurt by someone else’s comments about a person he has never met.

He permits him himself a little smile, because of course, Charles would notice, before he puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “I know”, he answers and sees the tension wash out of Charles’ form within a second, his gaze dropping as if he has to collect himself before looking at Edwin again. “I know you never would. I didn’t doubt it for a second. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” Charles almost breathes the word instead of speaking; when he looks up at Edwin again, his eyes are dark and full of affection, full of gratitude Edwin isn’t sure he deserves. After all, the only reason he knows it is because Charles has proven it again and again. “I’m – God, I’m glad, I don’t know what I would have done if you had ever thought it was like that with us.”

And he hugs Edwin to his chest, all that intensity, that urgency captured between two arms; Edwin sinks into it like he might not have permitted himself to a few months ago, and wishes he still had a sense of smell so he could breathe Charles in.

Their trip to Manchester is uneventful, Crystal munching on chocolate while listening to a podcast, and Charles looking out of the window at the scenery, this time, unfortunately not leaning back against Edwin’s chest. However, like this, Edwin gets to see the joy bloom on his pretty face whenever they pass something that delights him in particular. Because that is Edwin’s pastime: watching Charles.

He gets caught doing it, too, but then again, it doesn’t feel like getting caught at all, since Charles just smiles at him when he notices Edwin watching, points out something in the fast-moving distance. A cow, maybe, a cloud formation that reminds him of something. And then he turns back to the window, and Edwin goes back to watching him, the slope of his nose and the arch of his eyebrows, the sharp cut of his jaw. The darkness of his eyes and how they light up so easily, so often.

If he could, he would stay here. Maybe not for eternity, but maybe a decade or two.

Neither of them has been in Manchester in a decade, so it’s like stepping into a new city when they finally arrive. Charles takes off immediately, looking around the train station in wonder, but before Edwin can sigh and watch him, or maybe do the reasonable thing and follow, Crystal stops him.

“There is something going on between you two”, she doesn’t ask, just states, like she knows she is right. Which, of course, she is. Since it seems foolish to try and deny it, Edwin just nods. Doesn’t know what to say, if she wants an explanation, or just to let him know that she has noticed.

“Charles has told me about hell and all that”, she continues, and again, Edwin nods; he figured as much. In fact, he is quite grateful for not having to do it himself. “But it isn’t trauma bonding, not that you guys would need any more of that. It’s the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. Something has changed between you and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“It has”, Edwin confirms, and Crystal squints at him like she is trying to read him. “But not to worry, it’s nothing bad. Just complicated, I suppose.” His response draws a laugh from Crystal, her eyes sparkling with mirth and like Edwin has completely misunderstood her. “Oh no, Edwin, I know it’s nothing bad”, she replies, laughter still colouring her words. “I just wanted to know if you felt like telling me what kind of good thing it is, since Charles doesn’t seem to.”

Finding the magician turns out to be easier than expected. So easy, in fact, that they almost don’t, because looking in the venue where Amina disappeared seems too on the nose, all of them agree, and just stop by because Crystal wants to do a reading for clues where he might be. Which turns out to be the same theatre, sitting in the front row with his head in his hands, looking to Edwin like his shoulders are carrying the weight of existence itself.

“Uh… hi?”, Crystal tries to introduce herself, and it’s like pulling at the strings of a marionette how fast his head snaps up, red-rimmed eyes staring up at her. The Astonishing Arnold is a man in his thirties, hair dyed black and a little moustache over his upper lip, and he is devastated.

It’s pain Edwin cannot comprehend, and hopefully never will have to, but one he can empathise with; it looks like he thinks losing Charles might feel like. Without thinking, he turns his head, almost to make sure that Charles is still there, only to find that Charles is looking at him already, the same kind of understanding painted in bold strokes across his face. This was no little crush, and that makes Amina’s response to it so much worse.

“Hello”, Arnold says, quickly wiping at his eyes. “Are you… lost or something?” Crystal shakes her head and Edwin can see her make a quick calculation, decide on a plan of action. She is truly getting quite good at this. “I’m here about Amina. I’m a medium and I want to help.”

Her name is enough to draw a sob from Arnold’s lips; Crystal glances over at them quickly and Charles gives her a thumbs up, a brittle-looking smile. She’ll take this one. “I talked to Amina”, Crystal continues, “I want to help her find out what happened, so she can move onto the afterlife. She mentioned you and that she really cared about you. Said you were the kindest person she knew.”

She’s twisting Amina’s words, but Edwin cannot blame her, not when Arnold looks so broken down by what happened, not when a lie might ease a little of his pain.

“And she said she knows that you have nothing to do with her death”, Crystal continues, “That you would never do something like that.” A tremor runs through Arnold’s body, like an earthquake, a cosmic event, and then he drops his gaze to where he has clenched his hands in front of his chest. It looks like he is praying. “That’s where she is wrong”, he finally says, and it’s a confession, it’s a plea for help. “Because I did.”

It turns out to be a failed ploy to woo Amina, in the end. A portal to transport her to a restaurant they had been meaning to go to back in Cambridge, the little French place on the corner, where a reservation and a bottle of chilled champagne was waiting for them. Arnold would join her after the show, with a bouquet of roses he had stashed away in his dressing room, to ask her to give him a chance.

“I knew she didn’t feel the same way”, he admits, tears streaming down his face. “But I thought maybe I could win her over. I’ve loved for so long, I thought maybe that could be enough, that I could love her enough for the both of us. And I figured, real magic, that would impress her. That would impress anyone, right?”

Only that Arnold had no experience with real magic, had only found a volume of spells on one of their trips by chance and had practiced on objects first, then small animals. It had worked, well enough that he thought he was ready to do this, without realising that while his portals were able to transfer the bunnies and birds that they kept for their shows from one side of the room to the other, they couldn’t yet handle a grown woman and this much distance.

“It was only after the show that I started freaking out”, he continues and Edwin’s heart aches for him, more so than it did for Amina. “When I was preparing to go through the portal myself I found a strand of her hair, cut off, looking like it had been singed. Amina was always so careful with her hair, so I knew something was wrong. The portal itself looked different, too, like there was static running through it. I called her, because I know that she always keeps her stupid Apple watch on, even during the shows. We had so many fights about that.”

He sniffles, the ghost of a smile passing over his face at the memory, followed by a wave of fresh tears, most likely caused by the realisation that they will never have that fight again. Crystal reaches into her pocket and hands him a tissue, and Edwin drops the hand he is holding his pen with for a moment, glad that his fingers don’t have the ability to cramp any longer. Yet, he shakes them out; when he stops, there’s a hand reaching for his.

His non-existent heart seizes up in his spectral chest and he looks over at Charles, who is holding onto his hand, intertwining their fingers. Charles looks back, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, is this okay? and Edwin nods, although he isn’t sure if it’s the right answer to give. Not because he doesn’t want to hold Charles’ hand, but because he isn’t sure if he will be able to concentrate on anything but this, now.

The notes, in any case, will have to be written later.

Arnold is drying his tears, and Charles’ fingers are slender between his own, elegant and strong, and Edwin is trying his best to listen when Arnold starts speaking again and yet isn’t sure if he succeeds.

“She didn’t pick up”, Arnold says and it’s like his heart is breaking within the words, “Of course she didn’t. And I started panicking, but I didn’t know what to do. Go through the portal myself and try and look for her? Call the police? Drive to Cambridge? Before I decided on one thing, I got a call and they told me they had found her. Gotten my number from the stupid Apple watch.”

He shakes his head, like he is still not sure how to process any of this; in his lap, his fingers are tearing the tissue apart, bit by bit, but Edwin isn’t sure that Arnold even notices. “I tried to confess to the police”, he continues, every word a sob, “But what was I supposed to say? That I created a magical portal to take her to dinner, but instead ended up cutting the woman I love into pieces? They would never have believed me. I wouldn’t believe me, if it hadn’t happened to me.” There is a pause, and Edwin can see that Crystal is trying to find the words to say something, but Arnold beats her to it.

“When you see her again, tell her I am sorry”, he asks Crystal, no, begs her. “Tell her I never meant for this to happen. Tell her… tell her I love her.”

Another wave of tears and the fingers around Edwin’s hand tighten; when Edwin looks over, there are tears in Charles’ eyes too.

“I will”, Crystal promises, and Edwin hopes that something so small can be enough.

In the end, they don’t tell Amina anything. Instead Charles brings her to Manchester via mirror, where she crouches down before the man that loved her above all else, and there is pity in her eyes, but genuine affection, too.

“Tell him… tell him it’s okay”, she says softly, and reaches out to hold his clasped hands in hers. “Tell him I forgive him. And… even if I am not sure if it’s the truth, tell him I would have said yes.”

Walking back to the train station afterwards is a quiet affair, each of them lost to their own thoughts, until Crystal stops them between the bustling crowd, the cafés and stores. “You two go ahead without me. Use the mirror to get back”, she tells them, “I could use some time alone after all this.”

“Are you sure?”, Charles asks, trying and almost failing to give her a smile. “We can be quiet.” “Yeah, I really am. I’ll see you in a couple of hours”, she says, and squeezes Charles’ shoulder like Charles had held onto Edwin’s hand; to make sure he is okay, to let him know that she is. “After I have eaten my weight in Gregg’s sausage rolls and Cadbury crème eggs.”

The agency is quiet, almost empty, without Crystal here, and it is a strange thing to realise. Before Edwin can contemplate what it means, Charles has flung himself down onto the couch, looking up at Edwin with wide, hopeful, beautiful eyes. He lifts his legs a fraction, and Edwin knows his answer, the same answer as always, before he has heard the question. “Read to me?”

“He followed the Rio Grande past Albuquerque and El Paso through the Big Bend, through Laredo to Brownsville. He learned Spanish words for food and pleasure, and he learned that when people are very poor they still have something to give and the impulse to give it…”, Edwin reads, aware that this time, Charles is doing nothing to keep his hands occupied. He’s just lying there, his feet in Edwin’s lap, listening. If it means anything, Edwin isn’t sure what it is.

“I wish I could fall asleep like this”, Charles interrupts him, smiling softly when Edwin looks up from his book. “It would be nice, listening to the story and your voice and just drift off.” Edwin’s fingers tighten around his ankle unwillingly; Charles must notice it, if he doesn’t, then he at least hears the warmth, the heaviness in Edwin’s voice when he answers. “Do you want to pretend to? I’ll keep reading, but you could close your eyes.”

“Yeah”, Charles replies after a moment has passed, and a bit of the light that has been missing in his gaze returns. “That sounds really nice, actually.” And he settles back, letting his eyes flutter shut, and Edwin continues reading.

“He developed a love for poor people he could not have conceived if he had not been poor himself. And by now he was an expert tramp, using humility as a working principle…”

Crystal returns a few hours later, when the sun has long since set.

They are still on the couch, positions unchanged, but Charles’ eyes are closed and the blanket Edwin had thrown over them earlier is concealing where Edwin’s thumb is brushing circles against the thin skin of Charles’ ankle. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at them for a moment, then sits down into the armchair and lets her head fall back against the cushions.

Edwin continues reading.

It’s morning, but just so, the first rays of sunlight forcing their way through the clouds. A few days have passed since Amina’s case, and slowly, they seem to be getting back to themselves, which is why Edwin looks up from the book he is reading – by himself, this time – and asks, “Why didn’t you tell Crystal about the confession?”

Charles keeps his eyes on the tablet computer for a few more seconds, then glances at Edwin, shrugging his shoulders. He’s only wearing a shirt, his jacket discarded on the armchair, and somehow, it makes every motion even more distracting. “Wasn’t my story to tell, was it?”, he replies easily, like he never even considered it before. “Didn’t know if you’d want her to know, either.”

Edwin isn’t sure about that himself, but he knows that he wouldn’t have blamed Charles if he had told Crystal. After all, he deserves someone to share his feelings with that isn’t Edwin, even if it hurts a little to admit that. It was just the two of them for so long, is all.

“I wouldn’t have minded it”, he says, and Charles chuckles a little at that, sets the tablet aside. “Not minding and wanting something are different things, though. Do you want me to tell her?” “I’m not sure”, Edwin replies, then considers it for a second longer. “I do, if it would help you.”

“Help me? With what?” There is genuine confusion written on his face, and Edwin can’t help but smile at him. “As I have gathered”, he replies, “it is considered helpful to talk to one’s friends to solve a problem.”

A pause, then Charles laughs, a soft, sweet sound that makes very little sense in this particular situation. Until he says, his voice so warm and so full of affection it makes Edwin tingle all over, “Edwin, mate. Your feelings have never been a problem. Not to me.”

They find another case a few days later, a simple one. A missing necklace that is supposed to be given to a daughter, like it had been given forty years ago to their client. Crystal finds it easily, hidden behind cracks in the floorboards, and when blue light starts glowing behind their client, Charles reaches out and takes Edwin’s hand in his. Not to make sure that he is okay this time, Edwin thinks, but just to hold it.

By now, they have made it through almost half of East of Eden; sometimes Crystal joins them, but today, it’s just Charles and him. “You know”, Charles says in the pause between two words, which is a surprise, because Edwin thought he was pretending to sleep. His eyes are closed, after all, and Edwin has gotten him a blanket to cocoon into twenty minutes earlier. “Sometimes it reminds me of dying, you reading to me like this.”

The words are a slap to the face, delivered in a warm, relaxed voice. “Oh. Oh God, if I had known, I wouldn’t have- “, Edwin stutters, trying to stand up, but Charles’ eyes fly open, his hand reaching out to hold Edwin in place. “No, no, no, this is brills, that’s not what I mean at all”, he says quickly, sincerely, and Edwin settles back against the cushions, still unconvinced.

“I didn’t really think about how that would sound”, Charles chuckles, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Sorry for that. I just… I guess, dying isn’t that bad a memory for me. Sure, it sucked, it was really cold and kind of hurt, but you were there. Talking to me. Reading to me. And, to be honest, I hadn’t felt that… not-alone for a long time prior to that. So, yeah, this reminds me of dying, because dying wasn’t that bad. And probably the most important thing I ever did in my life.”

He gives Edwin a smile that would heat up his cheeks, if he still had the ability to blush; like this, it just makes warmth bloom in his chest, where his heart would be. “You dying isn’t that bad a memory to me either”, he confesses, something he has felt a certain amount of shame about until this very moment. “I didn’t want you to die, of course, but if you hadn’t…”

His voice trails off, because he cannot bring himself to say it, not sure if it would be too much, but he doesn’t have to. “Then we wouldn’t have this”, Charles completes his sentence, sitting up so he can grasp the hand Edwin had been holding the book in, squeezing it tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go again. “I know. Seems worth it, to me.”

Another smile, utterly sincere, then Charles settles back against the cushions. “And thank you, for letting me stay.”

The door opens, and Crystal steps out of the room Charles dragged her into a few minutes earlier. Something about her expression is conflicted, unreadable, but when she sees Edwin watching her, her eyes soften, even if the struggle doesn’t disappear. One, two steps, then she stops and looks at Edwin.

“Good for you”, she finally says, and even if Edwin doesn’t know what she is referring to, he knows she means it.

“Wanna come upstairs?”, Charles asks, rocking back on his heels. “Look at the stars for a bit with me?”

It wasn’t how Edwin intended to spend the evening, since they have a new case and he should do some research, but Charles looks at him with a ghost of a smile on his lips, hope in his gaze, and Edwin loses the battle before he has even decided to fight it. “Of course, he replies and closes the book without noting where he stopped reading.

If he could feel, the night air would be crisp and fresh against his skin. Like this, it’s just clear, lets the stars shine brightly against the darkness of the sky. They used to do this more often, back when they first set up the agency; why they stopped, Edwin cannot quite say. Because it’s nice up here, the sounds of the busy streets mostly muffled, just enough space for the two of them. It’s intimate, it’s theirs, and Edwin hadn’t even realised that he missed it.

Charles is standing with his back to him, fussing around with something, cursing under his breath, so Edwin cranes his head back to see more stars. Long ago, he learnt the names of the constellations over London, but right now it seems difficult to recall a single one.

Before he can remember, a note rings out, strange and unexpected, and when Edwin looks down to find the source, Charles has turned around, Crystal’s Bluetooth speaker glowing with a dim, purple light behind him. He’s playing music, and it makes Edwin smile, even if he doesn’t recognise the song, because, of course, Charles would want to have something playing in the background to watch the stars.

“It’s the band we saw back at the Troxy”, Charles explains, and he looks nervous, almost. Hands clasped together in front of his body, fingers tangling and untangling, the smile on his lips bearing an edge Edwin isn’t familiar with. “You know, the stabbing case. I thought, maybe you would like to dance? The song is the same, even.”

His gaze drops and when he looks up at Edwin again, it’s from beneath his lashes; it’s enough to set Edwin’s immortal soul aflame. Charles has always been beautiful, Edwin had known that since the first moment he had set eyes on him, but he looks ethereal now, a painting, a statue carved in marble and gold.

He nods, because he doesn’t trust his voice, and Charles smiles so wide it’s blinding. Ducking his head once more, he steps forward and takes Edwin’s hand in his, puts the other one on his waist, and although they have only done this once before, it feels like like it is their rightful place. It feels like coming home.

Edwin’s other hand settles on Charles’ shoulder, and it feels so easy to start swaying in time with him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other so he can continue to look at Charles, who is looking back so openly, like he wants Edwin to read every single of his thoughts, his feelings. He can’t, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying.

“It might sound a little silly”, he finally says, and Edwin wants to kiss the words out of his mouth, wants to listen to his voice for the rest of time, “but I never thought about this. Never considered it. I’m not sure why, but in the end, it doesn’t matter, does it? Because I love you. I’ve always loved you. Ever since you read me detective stories so I wouldn’t die alone.”

He smiles and Edwin is combusting, he’s being torn apart, he’s bubbling over with happiness and with love and with gratitude to be here with Charles, to have gotten the privilege of knowing him, loving him.

“You know when I said we would have forever to figure out what the rest between us meant?”, Charles asks, and Edwin nods, speechless. “I don’t think we’ll need that long. I think I’ve figured it out already.”

And he leans in, slowly, like this is a moment he wants to savour, and kisses Edwin with so much love, so much devotion, he can feel reverberate through every part of his soul. His hand slides from Charles’ shoulder to cup his face, and Edwin was wrong before. Because this is its rightful place.

This is coming home.

[aleyah-lavelle]

Skateboard 2

Wind breaker

fem bodied reader | smut | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | reverse harem? | all characters featured are 18+

author's note: This is a slow-burn story, but don't worry, it will have smut. I actually want to speed things up so we can have those kinds of scenes. btw, I want my story to have action as well, so yeah.

✧˖° — windbreaker men

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

I had sworn off biking. I refused to touch those pedals again after what happened. That bike wouldn't control my life anymore. It nearly wrecked my grades. That's why I'm in Korea now, to get things back on track. Hoping for a fresh start.

But now, recalling my challenge to those guys, everything flipped. I was mad at myself. None of this would have happened if Wooin had just bought the bike yesterday.

I dropped my skateboard with a sigh, eyeing my bike. I moved away, ready to start skating. I had told Jay in class earlier that we'd meet at the skatepark. He didn't react much, so I took that as a green light.

After landing a slick slide move, I smoothly spun my skateboard. Flip tricks were my jam, the source of my skating joy. But I didn't stop there. I tackled the tallest ramp and smoothly glided down, board stuck to my feet. I leaned, balancing my body for the drop. That move was my specialty, grabs/airs.

I sensed someone watching me. Adjusting my helmet and my curly hair, I grinned when I saw Jay nearby, looking serious by my bike. He held his bike but wasn't riding.

His friends chattered, but he was lost in thought, focused on me. It quickened my pulse, but I didn't let it show.

"You're late," I quipped, skateboard in hand.

"Please don't say you want to race here?!" Dom's dramatic reaction cut in.

I noticed they were with a few girls and a guy. Some of them are my classmates so i'm kinda familiar with their names.

"Why? Nervous?" I teased, removing my helmet.

"But isn't this unfair? Jay's not used to biking in a place like this. You have the upper hand," the girl with pink hair pointed out.

"She's got a point," Dom's friend chimed in. "Plus, who races in a skatepark?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Plenty do," I replied calmly, though a bit irritated. "This is just nothing if you really know how to bike."

My words hung in the air, making everyone pause. All eyes turned to Jay, who had been quietly observing me. He seemed to be deciphering my expression, his own unreadable. Mysterious yet undeniably attractive. I arched an eyebrow at him.

"Ready to race or not?"

He sighed. "I was just waiting for you to finish." His brief but serious response caught me off guard.

A small smirk played on my lips. This is getting interesting. I quickly went to my bike. I wasn't sure if my outfit was race-appropriate since I didn't have any history of serious racing or tournament participation. I was just wearing a cropped long-sleeve cardigan with matching pants.

I glanced at Jay beside me and saw him adjusting his helmet. His expression was serious as he watched the slide-like structure where I had been playing earlier.

"Miss, if Jay wins, can you do my assignment too? Pretty please?" Dom suddenly appeared beside me. I just shook my head before laughing.

"Yeah, sure."

"That girl has the same vibe as Jay. Am I the only one who notices that?" one of Dom's friends remarked. If I recall correctly, his friends had called him Minu earlier, so that might be his name.

"They're both smart. But in biking? I don't think so," the girl with pink hair chimed in irritably.

Glancing at Jay, who was observing me, I couldn't resist teasing him. "Is that your girlfriend? She seems a bit whiny. Is that your type?"

"No, she's not," he replied simply.

"So that's not Shelly?"

He shot me a cold look, as if he didn't appreciate me mentioning his girlfriend's name. That's not my fault! I was just confused because he was with that girl earlier when he arrived. So I assumed she was Shelly. But obviously, judging from Jay's expression, she wasn't his girlfriend.

"Calm down, I was just asking," I chuckled before resting my arms on the handlebars.

"You're so noisy," he said emotionlessly.

I grinned. "Your girlfriend's not here? No moral support from her?"

"Why do you keep asking me about her?" he furrowed his brows. I raised my hands in a playful surrender.

He was cute when he got riled up.

"Just like I said, I was just asking."

"Then stop asking. Let's just get this over with. I still have to study," he replied flatly.

I paused as I remembered that I also needed to study. We had a quiz tomorrow. Jay noticed my reaction, so I avoided his gaze. What does he think? Does he think he's the only one allowed to worry about his studies? But that's the same reason I'm here in Korea.

"You're right. I still need to review too," I added, noticing the disbelief on his face.

I positioned myself, noting the arrival of the girl in pink in front of us. She looked serious and appeared to be the one starting our race with Jay. I glanced at Jay again, seeing him focus intently on the slide structure ahead, probably calculating equations in his mind.

"Aria, please start! I still don't have my physics assignment!" Dom pleaded, thinking Jay could easily win.

"Okay... Are you ready, Jay?" Aria asked, and Jay nodded.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" I said with a frown.

She smirked, "No, why bother?"

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes. When Aria counted down to three, Jay swiftly started biking, and I leaned casually on my bike as he took off. Was he really taking this seriously? It seemed like he wanted to give me a hard time with his assignments.

"What's she doing?"

"Why isn't she speeding up?"

As Jay approached the curve, I increased my pedaling speed. I heard gasps from Jay's friends. I grinned as I managed to keep up with Jay, surprising him. He glanced at me with disbelief but I kept pedaling. I sensed his hesitation due to the pavement's condition. I accelerated to avoid losing balance, knowing my bike might veer off if it hit a rough spot.

"Fuck! Is she really going through there?" Dom exclaimed.

"Does she want to get hurt? That's dangerous!" his girlfriend chimed in.

My bike soared through the air, and I adjusted my body to maintain control. Jay followed suit, but his landing wasn't as smooth due to his slower speed. He hadn't accelerated enough. I even executed a Wheelie trick to stabilize my bike, almost reaching the finish line.

My attention faltered when I spotted a guy with red hair from a distance. I furrowed my brows, instantly losing focus because of it.

"Seriously," I muttered, noticing Vinny's crew in the distance. 

Why were they here? Damn it. Vinny's insults about being a girl echoed in my mind. I remembered how I insulted their crew, saying biking was for kids, but here I was racing against my classmate.

My bike slowed down, giving Jay the chance to speed past me and win. Frustration etched on my face as I crossed the finish line after him.

"What was that?" Jay approached me. Anger was evident on his face.

"W-What do you mean?" I forced a laugh. "Oh come on, don't tell me you actually believe I'd win?"

He stared at me intensely. Sweaty and breathless, we locked eyes, his filled with anger.

"You did it on purpose. We both knew you would win, but why did you do that?"

“I didn’t do anything, Jay.” I said with full confidence. . "I was just bored, so I challenged you. There's no way I'll join your crew."

I couldn't tell if I was lying to myself or speaking the truth. A part of me resists joining their crew because, as I said, I'm done with biking. But being around this man changes everything. Because of him, I find myself wanting to be part of their group. To enter their competitions. I want to understand him better, to get closer to him. How is it that he effortlessly exudes such allure? He's not supposed to be my type. I mean, I have no right to call anyone a nerd when I've been called that myself. But something about him draws me in.

But of course, that's just a fantasy. He has a girlfriend. And trust me, the moment I learned she's beautiful, I quickly dismissed any thoughts about Jay from my mind.

"Don't worry; I'll still do your assignment--" I added.

"Let's do it again," Jay interrupted firmly, surprising me. "I won't accept the result if I know you let me win that easily."

"You're crazy; I just told you that you're really good--"

"What's happening here?" We both stopped when Vinny spoke behind me. Jay's friends also approached. I felt the tension between the two crews.

"What's that trash doing here?" Dom's expression changed upon seeing Joker and Wooin.

"Why didn't you invite us to your race, Demitra? I would love to see you win against their so-called ace," Wooin's tone was challenging.

"You're friends with them?" Minu asked. I was about to shake my head when Vinny spoke up.

"If she was, what about it?" Vinny's tone was dangerous, causing me to back up. He was now at eye level with Jay.  Dom was supposed to say something but Vinny cut him off. 

I tightened my grip on my palm. "This is becoming interesting," Wooin exclaimed with excitement. He was with Hyuk and Joker, exchanging glances with the Hummingbird crew.

Vinny scoffed. "So this is your training? Racing against a girl?" He said it disbelievingly to Jay.

"Since when did you start putting down girls?" Dom asked, annoyed. "Did you do this to Shelly before?"

Vinny stayed quiet.

I clenched my fist. I couldn't believe it. I recently found out from Sunny High students that Vinny used to be part of Hummingbird. Now that I realized he was friends with these people, especially Jay's girlfriend, it only fueled my anger even more.

How could he respect girl riders in Hummingbird but disrespect me? We may not be close, but he had no right to insult my abilities.

I shot Wooin a glare. "Just go. Take your crew and leave," I said firmly, trying to contain my frustration. The smirk vanished from Wooin's face, replaced by a scowl. He exchanged a tense look with me before muttering a curse and adjusting his hair in irritation.

"Fine," he turned away and motioned to his friends, especially Vinny. "We'll wait. Finish your little chat with the nerds first," he added with a sneer.

"Who're you calling a nerd, jerk?" Dom almost lunged forward but was held back by Yuna. Minu and June looked equally irritated, while Jay maintained a watchful gaze on me.

Mia, looking confused and concerned, spoke up, "What's gotten into Vinny? He's never like this, especially not with us or with riders like Shelly."

Minu's response was short and sharp, "He's just being an idiot, plain and simple."

My chest tightened as I realized they knew Vinny's behavior because they were close to him. It meant Vinny wasn't naturally disrespectful towards women; there was something personal here, and I couldn't fathom what it was besides our rocky start.

"I'll handle your assignment later," I told Jay, trying to diffuse the tension.

He met my eyes with a steely gaze. "No. We'll do it together."

I blinked in surprise. "W-What?"

"That race wasn't fair," Jay explained evenly. "I won't let you take the fall for it alone," he added, a touch of determination in his voice.

[fruitydiaz]

find a way an exploration of the time when Shannon found out she was pregnant, Eddie enlisted, and he got his ‘find a way’ tattoo. 3,992 words AO3 link

Eddie gets his first tattoo on a Wednesday.

It’s the kind of spontaneous, rash, reckless, spur-of-the-moment decision that his parents are always accusing him of making, though he rarely ever actually does.

Two weeks ago, Shannon told Eddie she was pregnant. She’d called him up and the tremble of her voice had him out of his house and down her street in a matter of minutes. He’d found her in her mom’s living room with the small piece of plastic held tight in her hands.

“Shannon?” He’d called to her, walking cautiously towards the couch. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips pressed tight together. She lifted her hands a bit, the test shaking between her fingers.

“I—” She’d started before shaking her head. She tried to speak a few more times but she kept getting choked up and giving up halfway through. It was painful to watch.

Eddie rushed forward, dropping to his knees in front of her and taking the test from her hands. He swallowed hard when he looked down at it, the thin blue lines glaring back at him. His first thought is to curse himself out in his head. He should’ve been more careful—but there’d be plenty of time to berate himself later. Now wasn’t the time.

“What do you want to do?” Eddie asked, carefully setting the test down on the coffee table behind him, as if it were made of glass and not cheap plastic. He turned his attention back to Shannon, wrapping one hand around her knee to keep it from shaking.

“I don’t know, Eddie,” Shannon cried. “I don’t—I don’t know how to be somebody’s mom. I don’t know if I’m ready to be a mom.”

“I’m scared,” she said, and Eddie swallowed the me too on his tongue. He wasn’t allowed to be scared. Not like this. Not with her.

“We’ll figure something out,” he had said. “We’ll find a way. Together. You and me.”

Since then, they haven’t told a single soul, save for Shannon’s mom, because Shannon tells her everything. But nobody else knows.

It wasn’t something they had planned. Obviously they’d gotten careless and now they’re two expecting parents, just barely adults themselves, trying to prepare for an entirely different future that neither one of them had ever anticipated.

It’s scary to realize at 22 years old that you’re going to be a father. One minute, you’re in school, counting down the minutes before you can bust out of the metal doors and stain your jeans green sliding around the baseball field with your friends; the next minute, you’re hot on your dad’s heals, following him around oil rigs, absorbing all of the information you can and trying your best not to look like the kid you are. You’re barely old enough to buy your own liquor one minute, and the next, you’re preparing to buy baby formula and diapers.

A lot of people plan for things like this. If Eddie had been smart enough and responsible enough, he definitely would’ve planned ahead for something like this. He wouldn’t be 22, for one. He’d be married for another. And he’d have an actual plan for what he wanted to do with his life. Instead he’s here, 22 years old, no college degree, barely any money in savings, still living at home with his parents, and working with his dad.

Most days, he tries to tell himself that there’s nothing wrong with that. There were plenty of jobs in town to go around. Many of the boys he went to school with stayed home and picked up different shift jobs around town, or worked the rigs with him. A few, though, had signed up for the army. With too-bright, too-naive grins on their faces, they had proudly announced that it was their one-way ticket out of El Paso.

Eddie remembered being a little jealous at the time. The idea of getting away from his parents and away from El Paso was starting to feel more and more like a pipe dream every day.

A part of him must have held onto the idea, though, because a few months before Shannon’s announcement, after a particularly hard week at home, he’d started considering enlisting again. He even went as far as walking into a recruitment office, signing up for the ASVAB, and taking the test a few days later. His scores were good enough he just—didn’t believe that was his path.

Now, though. With a child on the way and a new family to support, he’s started to think about it again, turning the idea over in his mind every night as he lay awake in bed, envisioning his future.

Shannon won’t be able to work soon, not while pregnant and not while nursing Christopher. And Eddie knows firsthand not only how expensive kids can be but how much time and energy they take to raise. Ramon had been gone a lot when the girls were younger, so it often fell to Eddie to help is mom out.

He needs to make the right decision here. He needs to be able to support his family—but if he leaves, how much can he really be supporting them? More than anything, Eddie just wants to do the right thing, he’s just not entirely sure what that is.

The day he makes his decision, he finds himself outside a tattoo shop with his cousin.

“I got my first tattoo here,” Jaime says proudly, twisting to show off the design wrapped around his bicep. “They’re cheap and good; can’t go wrong.”

“I don’t even know what I’d get,” Eddie says, staring at the flash sheets taped all over the windows.

The tattoo on Jaime’s arm is biomechanical in design; like the skin has been torn away to show the cold mechanical underside. It suits Jaime, Eddie thinks, he just doesn’t think it would suit him.

There’s a variety of designs plastered along the storefront, a lot of bold black and white lines, splashes of color here and there, some floral pieces, some gothic lettering.

“You’ll figure it out, man. Trust me.”

Eddie lets Jaime talk to the artists first, lingering around the edges of the shop and taking all of the art in.

He’s not much of an artist himself. He’d enjoyed it as a kid, especially when Adriana and Sophia were born. He’d pull out their rattiest coloring books and drop a bucket of pencils onto the table, tearing the pages out of the book and challenging them each to a race to see who could color in their pictures the fastest.

It was fun. But eventually, Ramon would come back home, see Eddie coloring with his sisters, and cast a disapproving look on him before pulling him aside.

“You don’t have time to be playing with crayons, Edmundo,” His dad would say, towering over him. “You’re the man of the house now. You need to step up and act like it.”

He was 10 years old then. He’d spent the last 12 years trying to live up to that idea.

If his parents were here now, they’d be giving Jaime all kinds of hell for taking Eddie to a place like this. And then they’d turn on Eddie, telling him how he should know better, how he shouldn’t even be hanging out with Jaime in the first place. 

But his parents aren’t here. He watches Jaime pull some cash out of his wallet before handing it to the artist over the counter and thinks, fuck it. He’s old enough to have a kid; he’s old enough to make his own decisions.

He strides up to the counter and the artist greets him with a quick nod.

“You know what you want?”

“Yeah—yeah, I do.”

Jaime shoots him a knowing grin before following his artist toward the back of the shop, and the guy at the counter slides Eddie over some forms to sign.

–

He was nine years old the first time his dad had taken him out into the field to check out one of the rigs. Helena had managed to keep him from them for as long as she could, allowing Ramon to drag Eddie along to sit in his cubicle while he attended meeting after meeting, but drawing the line at actually going out into the field. She’d said it was too dangerous for a kid; Helena had wanted Eddie to stay soft in many ways. Ramon had very different ideas. And nine years old, according to Ramon, was very nearly an adult, so he’d managed to convince her to let him take Eddie along just to tour.

Eddie had already become familiar with the people at Ramon’s office by then, all of the very important, very smart people that Ramon always boasted about working with. Meeting the men on the rig was different. They regarded Eddie with a certain kindness, had demonstrated to him how different parts of the rig worked, and told him about the different parts of the land they were digging into.

“There are a lot of good men on this rig,” Ramon said by the end of the day, steering Eddie to his truck. “A lot of men doing hard work to provide for their families. That’s what we do as men, Edmundo.”

“Right, dad,” Eddie nodded, holding his hard hat in his hands, still too large to fit on his head properly.

“A lot of people don’t want to see us succeed. But we’re just like them—we work hard and we support our families. Even if it means doing the dirty work.”

There was a lot about Ramon’s job that Eddie didn’t understand. All of the meetings, for one. And all of his travel. He was never home. All Eddie knew was that he didn’t want to be like his dad when he grew up. He didn’t want to be an engineer. He didn’t want to spend all day in meetings or sitting in a cubicle. Most of all he didn’t want to spend so much time away from his family.

He wanted to do something with his hands. Good things, honorable things.

“No matter what life throws at you, Edumundo,” Ramon said seriously, facing Eddie. “You find a way.”

–

The artist hands him a binder to flip through, a portfolio filled with black and white images of the shop's different lettering examples. There’s an overwhelming number to choose from; admittedly Eddie’s never given much thought to font choices.

In the end, he chooses a soft cursive font, one that reminds him of his abuelo’s handwriting and makes him feel rooted. He gets it on the inside of his wrist, unassuming but a constant reminder nonetheless.

When he gets back home that night, his parents are angry with him the second he steps through the front door. 

He should’ve known the private bubble he and Shannon had built around themselves could only last so long before it burst. Eddie’s parents have heard through the neighborhood gossip that she’s pregnant. He’d been meaning to tell them, to face them like a man and own up to his faults, but he hadn’t been ready yet. He’d just needed to come up with a plan on his own, to make his own decisions without his parents looming over his shoulder, telling him what they knew was best. He’d just needed some more time, is all.

They’re waiting by the door when he walks in, his mom pacing back and forth in the entryway while Ramon hangs back, leaning against the wall with folded arms, watching.

“How could you let this happen?” Helena asks as soon as Eddie’s shuts the door behind him. He barely opens his mouth to respond before she keeps going. “We raised you to be smarter than this, Eddie. To make better decisions than this.”

He presses his lips together and leans back against the door, a well-practiced look of indifference on his face. He’d hoped for more time but he’d been prepared to hear all of this eventually. He knew his parents well enough by now; it was inevitable.

“The neighbors are all talking about you two now, did you know that? I had to find out from Iliana down the street that my own son got some girl pregnant. Eddie, she’s barely out of high school. You’re barely out of high school!”

“She’s not just some girl,” Eddie interjects, but it’s a lost cause. He and Shannon were dating long before he graduated, but his parents have never liked her.  They never once thought she was good enough for him. This is just the proof they’d been waiting for.

“I don’t understand where we went wrong?” Helena continues like Eddie never said anything. “What are your sisters going to think, huh? Did you ever think about how this would affect them?”

No? Eddie thinks bitterly, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, searching for reprieve.

“What are you going to do about this, Edmundo?” His dad asks finally, his quiet voice cutting through Helena’s like a hot knife through butter. She stops and glances back at Ramon before facing Eddie again, eyebrows raised.

Eddie swallows, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin, the way his father always taught him.

“I’m going to marry her,” He says. The silence stretches between them, a quiet stand-off between Eddie and his parents.

“What?” Helena exclaims, huffing out a humorless laugh. “Now you’re going to marry her? You’re just a child, Edmundo, you’re not ready for marriage.”

“I can’t leave her to raise our kid on her own,” Eddie snaps back. His chest burns and he crosses his arms in front of him, his hands balling into fists. “Dad always said it’s our duty as men to support our families, didn’t you? Well, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“This girl isn’t your family,” Helena says.

“Shannon is my family now. I’ve made my decision and you’re not going to change my mind. I’m an adult and I can make my own choices. This is what we’re going to do. It’s the right thing.”

Helena’s mouth twists and she looks back at Ramon, who watches Eddie with a steady gaze. Neither one of them says anything. When she turns back to Eddie her eyes catch on the bandage wrapped around his wrist.

“What is that?” She asks, taking a step towards him. He sighs and drops his arms, tugging his sleeve down over his wrist.

“I got a tattoo,” He says, all his earlier bravado dying somewhere in his throat.

“A tattoo? Oh my god,” Helena throws her hands up, spinning around to face Ramon. “First, he gets a girl pregnant, then he wants to get married, and now he’s getting tattoos?”

“In the grand scheme of things I really think the tattoo is not that big of deal,” Eddie mumbles, mostly to himself, sneaking by his parents and escaping up to his room. 

His dad finds him alone later that night.

“Come to lecture me some more?” Eddie says dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. Ramon steps towards his bed, settling down on the edge and giving him a soft smile.

“I came to tell you that I’m proud of you.”

Eddie raises his other eyebrow. “Really.”

“I’m not happy about the circumstances. But you are taking responsibility. You may be doing it faster than I wanted, in a way I never wanted, but you’re becoming the man I always wanted you to be. So, yes, I’m proud of you, Edmundo.”

And—Eddie can’t lie. For all of his anger and all of his pain, all he’s ever wanted was a chance to make his dad proud. It seemed like he’d been fighting his whole life just to hear those words. Now that he’s heard them, he doesn’t quite know what to do with them, or himself.

“We can talk to Stephen tomorrow,” Ramon continues, eyes shining. “You’ve been doing good work these past few months, maybe we can get you a better position, something with more money.”

“I’m not working at the rig.”

“It’s a good job. You need one to support your family.”

“I’m enlisting, Dad.”

Ramon freezes, mouth closing in shock. For a moment, Eddie sees a flash of fear in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it comes.

“What?”

“I’m enlisting. They need men. And—the benefits are good. They’ll take care of Shannon and the baby while I’m gone and—and I’ll get to do something good. For the country.”

He’s practiced this speech in his head all week—not for his dad but for Shannon. He hasn’t even told her yet but he knows this is the right decision. His heart’s not in it but—for the country—his dad will like that.

Shannon won’t. He already knows what she’ll say, it’s been playing over and over in his mind all week.

For the country? I don’t give a fuck about the country, Eddie! I’m having your baby and I need you here with me.

He traces the bandage around his tattoo gently.

His dad is quiet for a moment and Eddie can see him turning the idea over in his mind, analyzing it just as carefully as he has every decision Eddie’s ever made. Eddie swallows his nerves and keeps his eyes trained on Ramon, jaw steady.

“War is a serious thing, Edmundo,” Is what he says eventually, eyes dropping to Eddie’s shoulder.

“I know that. This is…what I want to do.”

“Your mother won’t like this,” Ramon says carefully, eyes finally lifting to meet Eddie’s again.

“No, she won’t. I’ll give her some time before I tell her. Let her get over the marriage and the tattoo.”

“She just wants you to make smart choices.”

Eddie snorts, rolling his head back on his shoulders. “Sorry to disappoint. Again.”

They lapse into silence again. Eddie finally looks away from his dad, leaning back against the wall and staring up at his ceiling. He’s already mapped out the next few months with his recruiter, planning the fastest route to get all of his training done before the baby is born. He’ll get a house with Shannon, get her set up somewhere nice, a place of their own. They’ll make friends on base and she’ll have people there with her to help her through her pregnancy. They won’t be alone anymore. They’ll be okay; he’s taking care of it.

He’ll probably already be shipped off when she gives birth, if he's done the math correctly. But he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there. This is good for now.

“You know, I could go with you, if you want. When you sign up,” Ramon says suddenly. Eddie blinks at him. “For the army.”

“I already did. I took my test a few months back. I just gotta pass the physical and then I’m good to start training.”

“Oh,” Ramon’s eyes drift back to Eddie’s shoulder, then to the bed. “Well…that is good. You’re determined.”

“I am,” Eddie says.

It doesn’t feel like a complete lie, but it doesn’t feel completely true either. Eddie’s starting to wonder if he’ll ever feel like he’s on solid ground again.

He tells Shannon a few days later.

They’re eating lunch at their favorite restaurant. Shannon’s not showing yet but Eddie swears she already has that glow about her. Shannon says it’s just the way her sweat shines under the Texas sun. Sometimes when Eddie looks at her the only thing he feels is scared out of his mind; other times he thinks she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. 

“My mom keeps telling me all these horror stories about pregnancy and everything that could possibly go wrong. It’s great,” She says dryly, salting their fries heavily before popping a few in her mouth.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Eddie assures her, knocking some of the freshly salted fries out of the way and digging out the ones underneath.

“It’s still terrifying.”

Eddie nods, looking down at his tray. He’s been anxious about telling Shannon his plans all day. After telling his parents, telling Shannon feels like climbing a completely different mountain. He needs a completely different tactic; different gear, a different route, a different mindset. Eddie’s spent his whole life disappointing his parents. He doesn’t want to start off this new chapter of his relationship with Shannon by fucking it up—though it kind of feels like he already has.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” He says carefully, peeking up at Shannon. She narrows her eyes at him.

“Hmm. Is that why you’ve been acting weird all day?”

Eddie shrugs.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I think we should get married.”

He says it quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth in one breath. Shannon stares at him, stunned, and he stares back at her, frankly equally stunned. That’s not exactly how he thought he’d start, but it is a start.

“I’m going to enlist.”

Shannon’s eyes grow even wider and she drops her hand down to the table, fries forgotten.

“Are you kidding me?” She says eventually.

“Look—my job at the rig doesn’t pay enough for the both of us let alone the three of us. You’re not gonna be able to work with a baby on the way. The army will set us up with a house, I’ll have a consistent paycheck with benefits, and we’ll be taken care of.”

Shannon leans forward and when she speaks her voice is low and sharp. “And where are you going to be when I have our baby, Eddie?”

He shrinks a little. “I have a few months to work that out. But this’ll be good for us, baby. I mean, it’s the only option, really.”

“The only option?” Shannon repeats incredulously. Eddie nods, grabbing his soda and taking a sip before continuing.

“Look, Shannon. I know this isn’t…exactly what either of us wanted. Not right now, at least. But we’re having a baby. And I love you so much I just want to do the best for you and our kid. This is gonna be the rest of our lives, you know?”

“Yeah, the rest of our lives is going to start with me in a hospital room and you on the other side of the world in the middle of a warzone. Sounds like a really great start, Eddie.”

“I promise you that I am going to do whatever I can to be there with you when it matters,” He says honestly, reaching out to grab her hand. “I’ll find a way, I promise.”

They’re silent for a while, picking at their food and letting the idea of their new future settle around them. Shannon takes a deep breath eventually and narrows her eyes at Eddie.

“You’ve already enlisted, haven’t you?”

Eddie shrugs. “I haven’t committed to anything.”

“God, I just had to get with the most stubborn man on the planet.”

“And you love me,” Eddie says, flashing a smile and praying the tremor in his jaw doesn’t give him away.

Shannon studies him. “Yeah, yeah I do. This is a shitty proposal, by the way. I don’t even have a ring.”

“I’ll get you one,” Eddie says quickly, thinking about the overflowing piggy bank he’s kept since he was 9 years old, dreaming up a life far away from here, in LA with his Abuela and tia. “A nice one.”

“Hm,” Shannon hums, finishing off her fries. She brushes her hands off on her thighs, turning something over in her mind before looking at Eddie again. “I’m scared, Eddie.”

He wants to tell her that he is too, but he doesn’t. He feels like he needs to be brave enough for the both of them if they’re going to make this work.

“Don’t be,” He says, reaching for her hand again. “We’ll do this together. Trust me.”

[antimony-ore]

On a side note tho, who has time to be this petty

[chuluoyi]

✎ wedding anniversary

- gojo satoru x reader

seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—heavy smut, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, crack, drunk, lovesick and possessive gojo (nanami is so very done with him), also fluff !!

note: back to chu's thirsting hour :') based on a fellow gojo fucker's very helpful brainrot (chiyo if you see this, hii!😗) pls give it some love bc this has gone through not showing up in the tags 5x already *sobs*

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

To this day, it was still beyond Nanami why you, his very sensible former classmate, would have Gojo Satoru as your husband.

“She... doesn't—hic!—care about m-me... anymore!”

But well, to each their own.

“Gojo—”

“Today is our—hic!—anniversary!”

This is exhausting. It had been 30 minutes ever since the blindfolded shithead started rambling his sorrows. “She is probably just busy, you don't have to—”

“I r-really thought—hic!—she would at least n-not forget it l-like that!”

“Please, stop this nonse—”

Satoru snapped his head so swiftly that Nanami was startled, pointing out an accusatory finger at his face. “You stop!—you don't understand, Nanami!”

The said man flinched, taken aback, before feeling the surge of irritation coursing through his veins.

Sure, Nanami would gladly admit that he didn't understand. He neither had the time nor energy to. It was beyond him that he was even entertaining this blubbering idiot at this time of the day, in a bar no less. How did he get roped into this in the first place?

Actually, he had minus interest in your marital affairs, but Gojo was latching onto him all day, rambling about how excited he was for this day for weeks now, until you gave him a call, saying you would be home late and disregarded his very open anticipation. You broke his heart to pieces, apparently.

Amidst his heartbroken musings, Gojo followed him to his frequented bar, where he proceeded to down multiple glasses without any supervision.

“Am I really t-that lousy? Can’t be it… I’m s-strong, d-dashing… rich—”

Nanami released a guttural sigh, messaging his temples. How could this idiot have no shame while spouting all of this?

“Will s-she… divorce me next…?” he abruptly blurted, eyes widening as saucers and full of clarity all of a sudden. Satoru firmly tugged at his suit and forced him to face him. “Nanamin…! S-she won’t divorce me, r-right?!”

Oh, to hell with it. Nanami couldn’t take this anymore. He was done and he had no patience to tolerate it any longer.

He shrugged him off, and pulled out his phone to dial your number. “Hello? Please, come pick your husband. He’s a public nuisance!”

In fact, you didn’t forget your anniversary.

How could you? Satoru made it his point to drop hints about it almost every day, and you actually struggled to be indifferent about it because you also had things planned out.

A present—already taken care of thanks to your mail order of Rolex’s newest collection watch, and a treat—a two-tier mochi cake he had been staring at with literal stars in his eyes on your last date.

Which has become the problem. The bakery had mishandled your delivery and you had to wait for them to remake it. It was 8pm already and you couldn't help but worry. Satoru must be feeling utterly despondent by now, thinking you had forgotten a day that meant so much for both of you.

And so when you got a call from Nanami, you dropped everything to get him and told the bakery to arrange for the delivery tomorrow, because you knew... nothing good ever came out of Satoru getting drunk.

"I missed youuuu~! Dearest, darling— my universe!"

To Satoru, the everything around him was a blur of lights and hiccups when you came to retrieve him. Nanami was so eager to wash his hands off him, leaving you with a pointed grimace as if pitying you.

. . .

"A-are you going to—hic!—leave m-me?" Satoru slurred for the nth time now, stumbling inside your house with you propping him.

"For the last time, no, but I'm tempted to," you hissed, throwing him a glare. Your husband was a very unpleasant drunk because he wasn't even a drinker in the first place. "Satoru—walk properly!"

You managed to get him into your bedroom, where Satoru flopped onto the bed, dissolving into groans. You exhaled deeply and plucked the buttons of his shirt open, trying to get him change into his sleepwear.

"Ah... haaah," suddenly he caught your hand and placed it on his bare chest, his eyes blazing into yours, rambling, "Sweetheart—please. I c-can't live without you now... I'm sorry—I'm sorry for anything, or everything, I don't even know but—please don't hate me—"

"Satoru..." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Why was he this spooked? "I'm not leaving you, okay?"

"I promise you, I'll do better—" his voice was watery, as if his throat was clogged up. "I'll be better..." His voice then reduced into a whisper. The alcohol had stripped away his facade, leaving his raw emotions exposed.

Something inside you lurched. Throughout the nine years you have been with him, Gojo Satoru was always irritatingly self-assured, and so seeing him like this— so openly fragile, it did more than just churn your insides; it made you realize the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you knew your reassurance meant everything.

"I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" you placed your other hand over his, offering him a genuine, soft smile. “Satoru, I’ve put up with your ass for more than nine years. So…” you shifted your eyes away, suddenly feeling embarrassed, before looking at him again. “I'm here... for you, always.”

His grip on your hand loosened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn't wane, and you would've laughed when he hiccupped next if you weren't feeling the overwhelming warmth in your chest.

But oh you wouldn't have expected it, because one heartbeat later, he yanked you down to the bed— crashing his lips against yours.

“Mmmph!”

He tangled his nimble fingers on your hair, and his other hand slipped inside your blouse, unclasping your bra in one flick. You let out a gasp, "Satoru—! "

Before you could even gasp, in the next second, he flipped you over— seizing your puffy lips once more. His hands now moved with more urgency, squeezing your breasts rather roughly, flicking your nipples with the pads on his thumbs.

And soon, far sooner than you thought...

"Who else gets to see you like this?" Satoru inquired darkly after you were naked under him, his voice low and deep. He was no longer that stupid husband of yours, rather the wanton man of your nightly wonders.

Without warning, he slid one of his fingers into your folds, probing your walls, and a gasp escaped you as you arched your back, throwing your head back on the sheets.

"No— one," your voice came in a breathless moan, still reeling. "H-how can y-you ask me—" Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger and you wailed, "Mmgh!"

He had always loved the sounds you made and how you were so pretty squirming under him like this. And before you knew it, his face was inches from your cunt, blowing hot air into your sensitive flesh.

"Tell me, who is the only person who gets to see you like this?"

Your eyes rolled back, words died on your tongue as his skilled tongue ran down on your drenched pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, but he firmly held them apart.

"You." Panting, your mind racing to form coherent thoughts. You managed to mutter, "Only you... No one else—hah—just y-you...!"

He suckled on your clit hungrily then, rewarding you for your honesty. Squelching noises echoed around your marital bed as your arousal pooled around his fingers— you being so incredibly, irrevocably close to your release.

"Haaah, ngh—mmph!—Satoru, I'm a-about to—!" but then, in one cruel twist, he withdrew his digits, and your pussy throbbed at the loss.

You muffled your whines, feeling betrayed and irritable. "What—why—!?"

"Don't think that I'll let you cum anywhere else but my cock," he stated gallantly with an unusually stern expression, blue eyes narrowing as he assessed your wetness. Right in front of your eyes, his cock sprung after he let it out of his pants.

"Soon, you'll feel me..." Your eyes shamelessly followed his long length as he placed it on your lower belly. "...there."

Everything about him using that taunting tone turned you on, and true to his words, he soon slid himself inside you. He let out a low grunt at the feeling of how your walls clenching around him and you whined, the pain of being stretched making you almost sob.

"Shit, hold still," Satoru groaned, pushing down on your belly. "You're so tight— relax for me a bit, sweetheart? You're doing so, so fucking well."

His words went through you, and you could feel yourself opening more to ease his intrusion. Next thing you knew, he was buried deep inside you, and his gaze met you once again.

"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths, voice softening. When you nodded in response, he planted a kiss on your chest.

"I love you," he said in a rasp, eyes piercing your soul. "I’ll give you anything. My body, heart, soul—you can have it all. In return, you just have to promise one thing." His eyes, now clearer, deprived of the earlier haze, boring straight into you like an arrow.

"Don't ever leave me."

"I won't," you replied resolutely, catching your breath. Your own eyes shone with your love for him, making it even. "For as long as I live, it's going to always be you."

Satoru gazed at you as if you were his skies and stars, and before he started pounding into you, he vowed—

"Then I'm yours."

And soon, you were a nothing more than a frenzy, hot mess. You couldn’t help the nasty moans flying out of your lips as he kept barreling into you. His grunts reverberated throughout the room, rutting you through your hazed mind.

And the way he was whispering provocations into your ear, pushing you further into ecstasy at the mere thought of—

"What if... I get you pregnant this time?" A thrust. "Just imagine—" Another. "My wife, all round—" Another. "—just because I—am doing this to her—!"

You were barely registering his rambles at this point. Your walls clenching around his girth impossibly tight and you let him claim you as his thoroughly, your legs locking around his waist.

"Ah—ngh, mmrgh! Satoru—more!"

This wasn't you, the usual you wouldn't be this daring— but even you'll be more than forgiven tonight.

Satoru's jaw tightened at the sheer pleasure you brought him, his ego stroked, and his heavenly eyes darkened as you begged and dug your nails into him. He was so close, he could feel it. Your moans was enough to lead him to cum right here and there.

But before that, he was determined to show you, to whom you truly belong.

“My wife.” He growled. A thrust.

“Mine.” You gasped. Harder.

“All mine.” Deeper.

"Yes," you cried. "Yours— all yours, so please—!"

And three deep thrusts later, Satoru finally busted his load inside you, spurts after spurts painting your wall white— filling you up so hard it was spilling out. And your orgasm followed in immediate effect along with your hitched screams of pleasure, before the two of you collapsed on each other, a mix of groans and sweat, entwined in cum, bliss and exhaustion.

"Love you, sweetheart," you heard him murmuring in your ears, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you drifted into sleep.

Next morning, you were awoken to soft hums in your ears.

"Oh, the sleeping beauty awakens." The first sight you saw was Satoru's cheeky grin, and him pecking you on the lips. "How are you?"

"Mmm..." you winced, feeling the slight twinge between your legs. He noticed it and gently untangled himself from you, fingers tracing your waist. "Don't move around too much, you're going to bother my little swimmers, you know."

It took you a few seconds to realize what he meant and you glared at him. "You horny weirdo. I just woke up."

“Heh heh heh~ Don't take it too seriously! I was just trying to get you to smile.” He pinched your cheeks and then mused, “Well, I'd actually be surprised if we made it last night...”

"You're not funny," you retorted. You had been feeling weird and that was when you saw it.

The dazzling, massive diamond ring. On your finger. Wait, is that Graff's Tribal Collection?

"Satoru..." you mumbled, lifting your hand in shock, your eyes fixed on the piece that likely cost more than your monthly wage. "You..."

"Do you like it?" his smile was so easy and light, adoring the sight of you. You were so adorable, marveling at the little gift he got you.

"What do you mean—" you stuttered, turning to him. "Are you crazy?! I can't wear something this expensive—!"

"But that's exactly my point. It's a gift, meant to spoil my wife."

"You are mad," warmth flooded your cheeks, your heart fluttering with joy. You were unbelievably giddy because your husband really knew the way to your heart, yet you'd be damned if you let the excitement show in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression souring, and with a mocking tone, he accused you, "Actually, you're the one who's gone mad. I can't believe you forgot our anniversary!"

"I didn't, you dummy. I was out picking up your favorite mochi cake before you got yourself wasted." You turned away from him, shyly. "And I got a gift for you too."

"Oh? Oooh! Really!? What is it?!"

He was back to his silly self again, and you could only shake your head, wondering how the sex god from last night and this fool was the same person.

Yet, you felt nothing but love. Your heart couldn't help but melt for him when you saw that carefree grin.

And you couldn't be more grateful to the stars for bringing him into your life.

. . .

Oh, and little did you know that his little swimmers also made the goal last night— as three weeks later, you found yourself clutching the first of your pregnancy tests, which was showing a positive.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.

Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?

You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.

It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"

He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."

Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."

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

After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.

It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.

But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?

You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.

It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.

Bradley,

I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.

But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.

You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.

Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos. 

You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.

"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"

You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.

"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?

After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.

"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."

The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.

"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.

The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.

You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten. 

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land. 

Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.

Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.

I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you. 

Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.

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

After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.

He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.

As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck. 

There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.

Bradley,

I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.

I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable. 

You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.

Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.

Hitting send before I can change my mind.

Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.

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

"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.

"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.

"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."

"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.

"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.

You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.

At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of the fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.

After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested in him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?

I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually. 

Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.

You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

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

Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[strawberrysturniolo]

need a sub chris asap. giving you creative freedom but major sub/mommy vibes

wet dreams //sub!chris

summary: you decide to please your boyfriend when you see him experiencing a sex dream. sub!chris. mommy kink. male!receiving. use of vibrator on male.

Sleepovers at my boyfriend's house are nightly at this point. I practically live with him. I have a toothbrush here, a caddy in the shower filled with my necessities, a drawer of extra clothes, a few pairs of shoes, an extra charger. There’s even some decor that is mine. 

People are often surprised to find that me and Chris don’t technically live together. I just spend so much time with him, and he insists that he sleeps better with someone else in his bed. I have been told by his brothers that he’s tired of him trying to cuddle them while he sleeps. I’m here to fill that void. 

I woke up earlier than him today. That’s never surprising. I may not be a true early bird, but compared to Chris, I’m up at the crack of dawn. 

I put on some clean clothes, walking around the bedroom and watching him stir in his sleep. His mouth started out parted slightly, but every so often, a soft gasp left his lips and forced them open more. When his mouth wasn’t open, his lips were pressed together. 

I found myself watching him as he made subtle sounds. As time went on, he turned to his stomach, and my stomach dropped, knowing what was happening. 

His soft moans turned into low grunts as he started pressing his crotch into the mattress, his hips shifting ever so slightly. His toned back flexed as he moved, his briefs tight around his ass, and I only imagined the sight of his dick begging to be freed from the fabric. 

I swallowed harshly as I watched him, standing in shock. I knew he had sex dreams. He had told me about them before. He had them frequently. Maybe it was a guy thing, or maybe he was just horny all the time. I just had never seen it happen before my eyes. 

I made small, careful steps to the bed, making sure not to wake him. I want to see how far this will go. 

A sharp gasp left his throat, making me freeze. 

“Fuck,” he muttered before turning his head to the other side. His hand clutched a pillow, gripping it tightly. I was dying to know what he was dreaming of. What we were doing. How we were touching each other. 

I was struggling to keep myself together as I watched. I lowered myself to the bed, sitting down softly and moving next to him, watching him up close. 

His forehead had a small bead of sweat dripping from his skin. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut as his desperate sounds of pleasure seeped out of him. 

It went on for a few minutes before he turned onto his back. He was still asleep, but his dick was throbbing inside of his underwear. I could see it twitch as his dream went on. A wet spot lingered on the gray fabric, growing by the second. 

An element of our sex life that had been discussed was the idea of consensual non-consent – an idea of us being more than okay with the other person waking us up with a sexual act. I had always been hesitant about the idea. I didn’t want to wake him up and have him complain about being too tired throughout the day just so we could have sex. 

But this was different. He was obviously desperate. He was practically fucking the mattress begging for a release. I had to help him. He would want me to. 

I carefully traced my fingers on his left thigh, feeling the soft hair that decorated his tan skin. He twitched a little more in his sleep, and his sounds of approval were enough to encourage me to go all the way. 

I placed my hand over his bulge, the wetness seeping through finding my palm. My heart is racing as I wait for him to wake up. He lets out a gasp at my touch, bucking his hips harshly. 

He’s still asleep.

A few minutes passed. My hand continued to stroke his dick as his moans grew. I expected him to wake up at this point, but everything I am doing is probably just pushing into his dream. He has no reason to wake up because he is getting everything he needs while he sleeps. 

A loud moan leaves his mouth, making my eyes shoot open. I carefully peel down the waistband of his underwear, watching as his tip leaks. I spread some of the pre-cum around his tip with my thumb before licking over his slit. 

“Please, baby,” he whines. “Please.”

I take him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around his length. As his moans grow, I shake him by his shoulder while I suck him off, waking him up so he can bask in what’s real rather than his dream. 

His eyes open softly. He looks groggy and confused momentarily before he realizes that this pleasure is real. His head falls backwards and he lifts a hand to my hair, pushing my head down on him. 

“Fuck baby,” he groans. 

“What were you dreaming about?” I ask, pulling off of him and stroking him instead.

He shakes his head. “Don’t stop.”

I grip his balls, making him gasp. “Tell me.”

“You were bouncing on my dick,” he breathes out. “You held a vibrator to your clit. You were writhing on me, clenching like crazy. But every so often the vibrator would hit my tip. It was so much.”

I’ve never used a vibrator on him, but now I’m more tempted than ever.

“You want me to use a vibrator on you?” I ask.

His eyes widen. He nods frantically.

I spit on his tip. “Are you gonna speak or act pathetic for me and struggle to get words out?”

“I’m gonna talk,” he promises. “Please. I wanna try it.”

I nod, sucking his tip a little bit more before I lean over to my nightstand and grab my bullet vibrator. My theory is that starting small would be a better option for him before we use one that is bigger and could work on his entire dick. I want him to feel comfortable with this first. 

His dick is twitching relentlessly as he waits for my touch again. I love seeing him like this. He’s always dominant during sex. I never get to see the submissive side of him. It makes me feel powerful, and I crave control of him in this area of our lives. 

I turn on the vibrator, letting him hear the sound of the buzzing so he can decide if he wants to continue. His stomach heaves. 

“Please,” he whines. “I need you to touch me.” 

“Yeah?” I tease. I lick a stripe up his cock again. “How bad do you need me to touch you?”

“So bad.”

I lean my body over him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his mouth. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

Something in his eyes changes.

“I’ll be so good for you, mommy.”

Oh hell.

I slide back down to his dick, jerking him slowly with one hand before I trace the vibrator around his tip. His hips buck hard before I press them back down to the bed. 

“Don’t you dare,” I warn. 

“I’m sorry,” he cries out. “Ohhhh fuck. Please. It’s so good. Oh my god.”

The sounds he’s making are unlike anything I’ve ever heard from him. He’s whining, whimpering, panting, begging for me. It’s taking everything in me to continue to tease him, wanting to edge him from his high.

“I can’t- Fuck. I need to cum,” he says. “Please. Please, I need to.”

I shake my head. “Not yet.” 

He lets out a desperate cry. “Please!”

“Gotta be a good boy, baby,” I remind him. 

“I’m being so good,” he whimpers. His eyes are full, tears almost pouring out as he struggles to hold back.

“I know baby,” I nod, knowing he needs that praise and validation right now. I drag the vibrator up and down his cock before pressing it to his tip again as I stroke the area. 

“Fuck!” he shouts, his hips raising again with no control as he cums, catching us both by surprise. My eyes widen before I look up, meeting his eyes. He’s shaking his head like crazy as he continues to cum. “I’m so sorry, mommy. Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please.”

I let him finish before I remove the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. I press soft kisses from his stomach up to his lips before peppering his face in kisses. “It’s okay, baby. Did so good for me, hm?”

He nods breathlessly. “Thank you for waking me up, but now I really need to go back to sleep. I’m exhausted.” 

I smile. “Let’s go shower and get back in bed, okay?”

He nods, pressing a tired kiss to my cheek before pulling himself out of bed. 

@freshloveforthefit @lacysturniolo @mattitties @floofparker @javalakers @creamoncreamoncream2 @heebiejeebiezz @sturnswrites @runupthathillgirl @gdsvhtwa @666hellokitty420 @runupthathillgirl

[twirlyleafs]

”Start of the season-drama” pt2

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: slight angst, raised voices

A/N: thank you sooo much for the support on part one!! doing a lil happy dance because of u xx

~~~~

Max had tried calling you over fifty times the past three days but you refused to answer. You didn’t know if it was because you were still upset with him or because you were just that ashamed, but you couldn’t find it in you to talk to him. You had hope that there was a reasonable explanation for the photos but no matter how hard you tried to come up with one they all ended with you heartbroken. You were terrified Max would confirm any of them.

You read his texts and listened to his voice messages, responding that you’d talk to him when he’d get back. When he threatened to take an early flight, missing the race, you told him he was being dramatic and then you wished him good luck. Max stopped trying to reach you after that.

You had called in sick to work Friday and Saturday, staying home to simultaneously write and watch the qualifying and the race. You weren’t surprised to see Max bring home another win, but you felt bad when you noticed his seemingly bad mood in the post-race interviews. You could just assume you were the reason for the constant frown on his face and the dark circles under his eyes.

Sunday afternoon rolled in and you were restless. The fact that Max would be arriving back home tomorrow was starting to freak you out and you forced yourself to keep busy at all times not to overthink everything more than you already were. Currently you were standing on your tiptoes on one of the bar chairs, dusting the top of the bookshelves that were lining one wall in the living room. It obviously hadn’t been done in years and didn’t necessarily need to be done now either, but it was something to do. You were so caught up in your work that you hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door being unlocked, the bags being dropped on the floor or someone entering the room. Max stopped on the other side of the room, brows furrowed as he took you in. You were wearing one of his shirts, by the look of it one of his oldest ones and he knew you would’ve had to dug deep in the drawers for that one. As you reached the top shelf it rode up enough for him to see that you were wearing a pair of his boxers too and for some reason he melted slightly at the fact that you were dressed all in his clothes.

“Be careful.” You flinched, a gasp leaving your lips as your head spun around to follow the sudden sound. Max eyes widened as you wobbled for a second before regaining your balance and he thanked god he didn’t cause you to fall.

“Max, you’re home already?” You were confused, trying to figure out if your calculations had been wrong. He nodded, having to stop himself from walking over to help you as you climbed down from the chair.

“I took an early flight, left right after the podium.” He paused for a second, feeling the anger he’d felt for the past few days bubbling up again. “Felt a bit stressed to get back here since my girlfriend has been refusing to talk to me.” You bit down on the inside of your cheeks, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Congrats on the win, you were-“ you began, but Max cut you off. He had told himself to keep calm, talk this through, but he felt the plan collapse almost immediately. He couldn’t deny the frustration.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t want a congratulation from you y/n, I want an explanation! I want to know what the fuck happened on Thursday?” His voice was sharp, arms crossed over his chest. You looked away.

“What happened was that I wanted to come see you, but you said no.” You shrugged, the frown on your face deepening.

“I didn’t say no, I said it was unnecessary- that’s not even the issue here. The thing I’m most upset- confused over is you said I had some girl?”

“I saw the pictures Max.” You glared at him, all the hurt and confusion and anger from the past few days coming back. “I saw you with her.“

Max looked even more bewildered than a second ago, flailing his arms out in exasperation. “Who?! What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your fucking date to the banquet!” You exclaimed, raising your voice to match his. “The girl you snuck away with when you didn’t think anyone would see!” Max just stared at you with wide eyes, lips opening and parting in confusion. You, however, took his silence as a sign of guilt. “I get that you’d want a girl who’s willing to follow you everywhere, who’s willing to give up her own life to be your trophy but fuck, Max, I thought you’d at least give me a heads up.”

”I didn’t bring a fucking date to the banquet, where are you getting this from? What fucking photos?”

Without another word you reached for your phone, searching up the tweet that started this whole mess. Zooming in on the photo where he was cupping her cheeks you handed him the phone, crossing your arms over your chest the second he grabbed it from you. Max stared down at the screen, eyebrows going up before they were pushed together. Slowly he looked up at you again.

“Baby-“ he began with a sigh, the apologetic tone of his voice had you assuming he was about to confess to cheating on you. The anger was quickly replaced with hurt and a shockwave of sadness. Suddenly your vision was watery and you took a step back, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. Max seemed to understand, quickly shaking his head.

“It’s not what you think, not what it looks like.”

“Oh come on-“ you sniffed, but Max wouldn’t have it.

“No, I get how that sounds but just let me explain. That’s Rebecca, you’ve met her. Tommy’s daughter.” You had to rummaged through your brain for a second before you could place the name. Rebecca was the daughter of one of Redbulls mechanics. You’d met her a few times during races, she was a sweet girl. Your eyes widened slightly.

“Isn’t she like seventeen?”

“Yeah!”

You stared at him, even more chocked than a moment before. Max saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. A shiver ran up his spine at the realization of what you were thinking.

“God no! Not like that. She was at the banquet with Tommy but something happened, I think someone tried to pressure her into drinking and stuff- I met her when I came from the restroom and she was crying so I brought her out, away from everyone.” Max looked down at the photo again, frowning. “Away from the cameras, I thought. She was hyperventilating and I all could think about is when you’re having a panic attack so I did what I do then, I held her and I forced her to breathe with me.” When he looked back up you were already staring at him, lips slightly parted in chock. Max tossed your phone into the couch, taking a careful step closer to you. “That’s it. That’s all that happened. I did what you taught me.”

“God.” You let out a shaky breath, hiding your face behind your hands. Out of all the scenarios you’d constructed over the past few days, none even came close to this. Max hadn’t cheated, he hadn’t even been close to. He’d helped an innocent girl, doing for her what he always did for you when you suffered from anxiety. The guilt was slowly settling in your stomach. Max watched you softly shake your head before you carefully glanced at him between fingers. “Max I’m so sorry.” You saw him visibly relax when he realized you accepted his explanation and a second later he sunk down in the couch, seemingly exhausted. With a deep breath he leaned back, closing his eyes.

“Fuck.” He sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what I did and why you were so mad and not once did it occur to me that it might’ve been this.” Things were quiet after that. You crawled up on the barstool, pulling your knee to your chest, as Max stayed half laying down in the couch. Leaning your cheek against your knee you watch his chest rise and fall slower and slower. You almost thought he’d fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke again. “Did you think I cheated on you?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, making Max open his eyes to look at you. You felt your heart clench at the sad look on his face. “I love you Max, and I know you love me but-“

“But?” He asked softly, moving to sit up properly. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and watched your through thick lashes. You took a deep breath.

“But sometimes I worry I’m not what you want. I know a lot of the others wife’s and girlfriends come to every race and you know, follow you guys around the world. I would understand if you’d want that too. You’re always talking about how I should quit my job and- well I saw the pictures and I guess all my insecurities came to life and I freaked out. I’m sorry.” You reached up to swiftly wipe away a stray tear and Max frowned. He reached a hand out, waving it as to call you over. You got the hint and slid down from the chair, carefully padding across the floor to him. The second you were within reach he pulled you down in his lap and you could practically feel yourself melt into him. God you’d missed having him close.

“You are everything I want.” Max mumbled against the top of your head and you felt shivers run up your spine. You opened your mouth to answer but quickly shut it again when you felt the lump in your throat, a few tears spilling over as you blinked. Max let his arms snake even tighter around you as he heard you sniff quietly against his chest. “I love how much you value your job and I’m so proud of you for actually being able to handle both studying and working at the same time.” You felt his fingers press softly into your side as he spoke, voice hushed and gentle. “I tell the guys all the time how smart you are, how much I admire you.”

“But I’m never there for you.” You whispered and Max carefully shifted the two of you enough so that he could look down at you. His eyes flickered between yours, hand moving up to wipe your tears.

“You’re always there for me. Maybe not in person, but I always know I have you. Like you always know you have me, right?” He waited for you to nod before he continued. “I can race on my own, just like you work on your own. Whats important to me is that I get to come home to you.” He carefully picked an eyelash from your cheek as you processed his words. When he met your eyes again he offered a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “That being said, if I could I’d spend every second literally glued to your side but apparently that’s not healthy.” You laughed at that and the smile on Maxs face widened. With something between a sigh and a chuckle you dropped your forehead back against his chest.

“I’m sorry again Maxie.” You mumbled against his shirt, feeling it vibrate as he hummed.

“Don’t worry about it schatje.” He pulled you with him to lay down in the couch and it barely took a second before the two of you were comfortably entangled in each other. “Honestly, it was kind of nice seeing you that jealous. It’s an achievement from my part, without even knowing.” He joked, earning another laugh from you as you lifted your head to look at him.

“First place the first two races of the season wasn’t enough achievements for you?”

The grin almost took up Maxs whole face and you giggled at the proud twinkle in his eyes. Before he had time to say something that would have you slap him, you leaned in to press your lips against his instead.

Max was home and everything was alright.

~~~~

Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <333

@lpab @aexitizen-ln4 @buttfug213 @sxcretricciardo @hadthemapplebottomjeans @sunny44 @phantomxoxo @sunnyfunnydemon

[eyesofshinigami]

Boyfriend Privileges

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"

WC: 959

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21

The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.

Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.

Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it. 

But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane. 

Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood. 

Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life. 

That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back. 

They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night. 

“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”

“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-

“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.

Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…” 

Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”

“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…

Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in  the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat. 

It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”

“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed. 

“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”

That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.

“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together. 

Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?” 

He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”

The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background. 

“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out. 

Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”

It’s worth the noise coming from the back.

[lavandiors]

( 📁 twenty minutes. by lee haechan ＿ ⭐ O1O1 )

where haechan finds you in the practice room and can't help but want you all to himself.

𓍯 . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ─── pairing. lee haechan x idol!reader. genre. fluff, established relationship and lots of cuddles. warnings. a little hint, but nothing more.

lily notes. the truth is i had this idea for a long time (really a long time) but i didn't know how to write it, so recently i was able to achieve it. please leave a request if you want. <3

when you told haechan that your practice hadn't even started, it didn't take long for him to appear at the door of the rehearsal room.

you were stretching as you waited for your members to arrive, and seeing your boyfriend walk through the door was the last thing you expected to see.

you watched him open the door through the giant mirror in front of you, quickly turning in his direction as he closed the door behind him.

"hyuckie?" you asked confused, haechan dropped his backpack next to the door and walked towards you.

he walked calmly with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, a smile on his face at the sight of you. completely alone for him. and yes, you had seen each other less than two hours ago since you always sat together in the cafeteria, but you were so necessary to him.

two hours were torture for him.

he wanted to have you twenty-four hours a day. in his arms, snuggled against each other. allowing him to kiss every little corner of your body.

and now you were here. in front of him, with one of your dance pants and a shirt of his.

"hi baby" he greeted you, wrapping his arms around your waist like gum around a shoe.

he didn't even give you time to think when he already had his face buried in your neck and lifted you into the air. you laughed loudly when you felt him peck your neck with his lips.

"baby!" you let out that giggle that he loved so much. he took you to the couch where he dropped you, positioning himself over you afterwards.

you felt him settle between your legs as his breath hit your neck and his hands were firmer on your waist. he had missed you and you knew it, because he always did.

you dropped your hands into his dark curly hair, stroking it and tangling your fingers through it. he blew out warm air. “i missed you so, so much,” he said, his voice calm.

your throat let out a sound of approval. “i know, my love. i missed you too.”

"i'm glad to hear that," he replied, kissing your neck, shoulder, and collarbone.

his kisses were soft and full of love. demonstrating everything he had saved. and it was not necessary to have it stored when you were there. in his arms. just the way he wanted you.

he left his space on your neck, allowing you to feel the cold that hit his warm space. his face rose in front of yours, looking deeply into you from his dark, sleepy eyes.

"why was my girl alone?" he asked, bringing his lips to your eyelids, leaving kiss after kiss on your beautiful eyes.

they were your window to show your feelings. it was what haechan adored the most.

“the girls will be here in twenty minutes” you whispered, trying not to get carried away by his affection. but you were melting under his lips. it was an impossible mission.

he growled, placing one last kiss on your right eye, “twenty minutes with you isn’t enough” haechan had that ability to turn into a baby whenever he wanted.

he tightened his grip on your waist, letting his forehead fall against yours.

"i know baby, but after practice you can keep me all night" you left a kiss on his pout. he nodded slightly.

his pout turned into a smile "i have a few ideas" he whispered against your lips, you smiled out of inertia "i would like to know about them"

haechan laughed “my dirty girl” he said before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. the kiss wasn't even a needy or dirty one after that complement. it was as sweet and slow as a song from the medieval years.

slowly, it was his lips on yours. soft, it was your hands on his cheeks and his on your waist and stomach. sweet, it was his tongue against yours, not in a battle, in a pious dance where you demonstrated your love for the other.

"i love you so much, that i feel like i could die right now," he whispered into the kiss, deepening it even more. his teeth found your bottom lip, biting it lightly but repeatedly. he drove you crazy, but sweetened.

you brought your hands to the back of his neck to press your lips more against yours. "i love you too, too much" you couldn't say more, because haechan had already lifted you from your back to leave you on his lap.

he caressed the curve of your waist, the one that connected with your butt, and squeezed gently as his eyes penetrated yours.

his messy hair was tangled in front of his eyes, his lips were red from that kiss and his admiring eyes before you were a waste

“you are my angel, only mine” he whispered, bringing his face closer to your shoulder “only” he kissed your jaw “mine” he kissed your lips, tightening his grip on your waist.

you melted, and he felt it, you dropped your weight onto his lap and your legs lost that stability. that force that only he made you lose or make you win.

your hands settled on the back of his neck again, as you let him kiss you even more. when you separated, the thread of saliva continued connecting them.

how your eyes connected with his. how his heart connected yours.

it was your turn to let your head fall into his neck, settling in and grinding your chest against his. his arms wrapped around your waist completely, sliding his hands under your shirt.

a protective grip, while letting his head rest on your shoulder. rubbing his jaw there in search of leaving a mark that you were his alone.

"never stop being who you are" you whispered in his ear "because i love every part of you"

haechan kissed your shoulder and neck. you could feel his quality smile on your neck and his slow, soft caresses on your back.

"and you never stop being my girl," he whispered, "because i love that you are."

© LAVANDIORS | do not copy, translate or steal my works.

[everythingne]

christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]

Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.

warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

prev | next

-

You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.

"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.

"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.

"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.

"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.

"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.

"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.

"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.

"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"

"[And how come Danny knows?]"

"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"

"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"

"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"

"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.

"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.

"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."

"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"

"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.

"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.

"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"

"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.

"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.

"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.

"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.

"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."

You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.

--

You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.

"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.

"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."

"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.

"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"

"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."

"Because you're dating?"

"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"

"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.

"I know!" You huff.

Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,

"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."

Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."

Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.

"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."

"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.

"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."

Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.

"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.

And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"

"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."

"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."

"We're lucky we were only kissing."

"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.

"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."

"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--

"What?!"

"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."

"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.

"Carlos and Danny know." You say.

"Mhm."

"And... Carlos is your best friend--"

"--Arguably--"

"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."

"Uh-huh."

"...What if we ask them for help?"

"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.

"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.

"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."

"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."

"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."

"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."

--

"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.

"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"

"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."

"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."

"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.

"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."

You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."

"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.

"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"

"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.

"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.

"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.

"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."

"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.

"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."

"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."

"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.

"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."

"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.

"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"

The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.

And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.

-

y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴

liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..

y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3

joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT

user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??

maxverstappen: i still don't know who

charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film

charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴

liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...

charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.

user2: get me someone who will do this for me.

danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.

⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes

⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.

⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse

⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no

⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do

⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???

⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??

user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?

ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward

⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.

⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.

⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward

⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!

charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴

charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.

arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.

y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.

maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?

⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow

⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh

landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.

⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.

ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴

y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently

charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature

danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL

⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles

⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(

maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?

⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!

charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy

-

And by god, it starts working.

You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.

"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."

"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.

"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.

"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.

"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."

As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.

"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"

"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.

"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.

"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.

"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.

"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.

"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,

"Be more discreet, maybe?"

And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.

Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.

-

and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.

Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.

taglist. thank you!

@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash

[dotster001]

Can I ask angst when they break up with reader to try date other person just to notice they still in love with reader, but now reader is with someone else (i hope is not confuse) with Jade, Floyd, Vil, and Leona?

A/N: normally, I'm not a huge fan of writing angst...but I had way too much fun with this 😁

3k followers masterlist

"I've got everything I can from you. So it's time for me to let you go. Good luck to you."

Jade said it with a cruel smile on his face, a smile you had grown quite familiar with the six months you'd been dating. In pure confusion, you'dasked him to clarify what the fuck he just told you. He bowed politely, and gave an "of course" before saying it in an even colder way.

He had used all your connections. He had gotten all the information he could with your relationship. So it was over.

Naturally, this was a shock, and absolutely devastating. But he didn't care about your dropped jaw, or the tears slowly starting to pick up in speed as they trickled down your face. You left the room, and that was that.

He returned to his room to call his next target, a first year student who was a prince of a small nation. As he sent a quick message, Floyd stopped tossing the basketball he was playing with, and asked, "If you're finally done with Y/N, can I have them now?"

Floyd had been in love with you months before Jade was even interested in you as a target, but had held back upon both Jade and Azul's insistence. While his brother was one of them, he had nothing but innocent puppy love for you. A part of Jade figured you'd say no to him, considering they shared a face. So he gave his consent, not even thinking twice.

Three months later, he watched you drop Floyd at the lounge, and press a kiss to his cheek, before slowly pulling away and leaving him to his work. His date, the Prince, asked him if everything was alright, and it was only then he realized how stiff he was. He smiled and gave some excuse that he bought with zero effort.

And while his date continued to prattle on and on about things he should never share with someone he's only been dating for three months, Jade found himself unable to do his job for the first time.

Floyd was happier than he'd been in years, and consistently able to do his job, on the promise of you giving him goodbye kisses. You were happier than Jade had ever seen you. The love in your eyes was something deeper, something stronger, than anything he'd ever seen when you looked at him. And something in him broke when he realized that. 

You never looked at him that way. Was it because a part of you always knew he was using you? Was it because you sensed he didn't feel that way about you? Or was it something worse?

Was he never as good as Floyd?

"I'm bored," He groaned, standing up from the place he was resting his head on your lap.

"Okay, what do you want to do then?" You asked him.

"Nah. I'm bored of this," he gestured between the two of you.

A part of you had known this was coming. Not because you'd wanted to know, but because your friends had warned you. Especially Riddle, who had evidently been through his own relationship of sorts with Floyd. But you were hoping they were wrong. Your Floyd would never hurt you like that. 

Still, even you couldn't ignore the way he watched the exchange student from Noble Bell. The way he was handsier with them than he'd ever been with you. The way he whispered in their ear when he thought you weren't looking. The way he'd nearly kissed him, but stopped at the last second when he realized you were there.

Instead of letting him repeat it, you stood up, and left your own living room, hellbent on reaching Heartslaybul, where you were in for an "I told you so" speech, but if you sat through that you'd get pity cuddles. You heard him call after you, angry that he wasn't getting the last word, but you couldn't stay there anymore.

Riddle knew when he saw the tears on your cheeks. He sighed, and instead of a lecture, he opened his arms to you, letting you sob in his shoulder, as he gently rubbed your back.

A day later Floyd was dating the exchange student, and all your Heartslaybul friends were helping you avoid the two of them. You'd lost a boyfriend, but had been made aware of the best support system in any world.

Months had passed, and you could almost forget how Floyd had seemingly used you for a fun time. Especially when the resident Queen's arms were always open to you, and his eyes always had hearts in them when they looked at you. A man who would give you the larger half of the strawberry tart, despite you knowing full well how much things like that meant to him.

Floyd, meanwhile, was bored again. He had thought he was bored of you. But after the months of not even seeing a glimpse of you, and doing everything he could to get any emotional stimulation from the exchange student who hadn't realized what he was getting into when the hot second year had slid into his life, he was realizing his blunder. There was just nothing but physical attraction, and even that was fading quickly for Floyd.

But you'd always given him the stimulation he needed. You were always fun. You were always adorable. So squeezable. But now goldfishie was the one squeezing you. He wanted to squeeze goldfishie until he popped. You were his to squeeze!

But when he saw you resting on Riddle's shoulder, his chest ached as he realized he didn't deserve to.

You and Rook had always joked that he'd steal your boyfriend one day. Vil always rolled his eyes when the two of you would snicker about it, and give you a soft kiss on the cheek, while  smacking the back of Rook's head.

So when the two of them had stood nervously before you, tightly gripping each other's hands, you were devastated, but not surprised.

You didn't want to hear their explanations or excuses. Sevens, they tried, but you knew it would be better not to hear it. You could feel vindicated, not giving them a chance to apologize for hurting you, and it would also spare you the painful details that would only break your heart further.

So after shutting the door in their faces, you'd called a certain someone for a sugar pick me up. Trey arrived with a three tiered cake, and held you gently as you cried and told.him your woes. It wasn't until you started dropping self deprecating comments about how you'd never been worthy of Vil, how you'd always known he would leave you one day, that he shuts you up with a kiss. His jaw drops and he apologizes immediately, telling you he knew it was way too soon to be making any move, he just couldn't stand you talking about yourself that way. It wasn't fair to you.

When he leaves, he apologizes again, and tells you not to worry about him. If you don't see him that way, he'll be fine. If you do….take your time. He's willing to wait for you to be okay again.

And he really is willing to wait. And when you tell him you're willing to give the two of you a shot, a month later, he smiles softly and offers to start with a simple cooking date….literally right then because he has an unbirthday party he has to prepare for, but he also wants to be around you.

While you are slowly slipping into a life of domestic bliss, the cracks are beginning to show with Rook. Anytime Vil isn't perfect, he hears about it, and now….well, Vil isn't stupid enough to miss the way Rook's eye has been wandering over to Neige.

He didn't have to be perfect with you. As he eats the flavorless salad Rook made for him, he watches Trey feed you a chocolate covered strawberry, and playfully kiss away the chocolate that stains the corner of your mouth. Rook says something bitter when he notices, and he always notices, indicating his hypocritical jealousy. 

It's amusing, in a painful way, how Rook pretends he wants what you and Vil used to have. But what he really wants is to keep his pretty doll on its shelf, and all to himself.

When he'd first expressed interest in you, you had asked him. "Will I be pushed to the side in favor of an arranged marriage, or even just someone with more power?"

And he'd laughed. Nah. No one wanted to be trapped in a marriage with him (his parents had tried), and he didn't want more power. He wanted you.

But his pride was something even he couldn't get past. And when a fae duchess with similar image issues in her own nation had come to him, proposing a marriage of convenience, he had agreed without a thought.

"You're overreacting. We can still be together.' "I don't want- no, I can't be your side piece." "For sevens sake, she has a whole harem at her disposal. It's a marriage in title only." "I don't want that. What happened to what we had being enough?" "You're being selfish, and childish." "I'm being selfish? We could settle down in luxury with what you have!" "If you can't see fit to share me, only nominally, mind you, then go." "I will!"

He was furious. You knew his life. You knew a marriage like this could change life for the both of you. What the fuck were you on about?

Over the next few months he'd begun the courtship process with the duchess, going to boring political events to cement his position within that fae court. He kept expecting you to come crawling back. He'd sneer at you and make you prove you deserved him. At least, that's what he thought at first. But the more time passed, the more he just wanted you back in his arms where you belonged. He even has arranged for his room in the fae kingdom to have an extra large bed, so that you would always be comfortable.

One morning, he heard murmurs throughout Savannahclaw. He saw the side glances, and the hasty hushes as he passed. And he knew.

He stormed over to Diasomnia. Surely you were trying to make him hurt. And the best way to do that was for you to start seeing Draconia.

But when he started yelling at the lizard, he had nothing but confusion on his face. Yes, he found you very attractive, but no, he wasn't courting you. Leona was about to yell at him, tell him he couldn't lie to him, when you entered the room…on Vanrouge's arm.

Your eyes widened, and flickered between him and the lizard, before you groaned and rolled your eyes. You whispered something to Lilia, and the two of you were about to leave when he got the urge to yell at you. 

"That scrawny twerp will never be able to love you like I can!"

You slowly turned to look at him, and sneered, before saying, "Thank God for that."

[multifandomgirl08]

Something Bad, Something Good [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader

Summary: Reader deals with the haters on Twitter, Nico calls Reader Mama. Max claps back at the haters on Instagram like the malewife that he strives to be.

Warning(s): slander of reader on Twitter (+ some people not being mean on Twitter at the end), fluff, Mixed formatting (Story + Social Media)

A/N: This was a request from this ask and was sent in by anon. I felt it was important to show that everything in life is give and take and I hope that this showed that.

11/12/2023 A/N: The last social media post was updated to match reader's face claim

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

You had seen it on twitter and it wasn’t long before you were down the rabbit hole. It had showed up on your Twitter feed when you opened the cursed app,

It started with a simple tweet and took you no time to find the source.

It was speculation that you had grown used to. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt that people thought that you were using Max because he had money. You knew that it probably wasn't just the small group of people on Twitter. It never was. There would always be people that wouldn't like that you were with Max. It was just the inevitable.

You had closed your phone when Nico had come up to you with one of his toy cars in hand.

“Are you sad Mimi?” Nico asked.

“No, Nico I’m not sad.” You reached for him before he moved to sit in your lap.

Nico didn’t need to know that people on the internet liked to be assholes for no real reason at times. They talked what they didn’t know about, and speculated on the obvious. Just another day of living in the 21st century.

“Someone wasn’t being nice to me. But, I have you and Papa, grandma, and Auntie Vic. So I should be okay.” You kissed the side of Nico’s head before he curled up with you on the couch to watch something.

You would be okay. They were just comments on a screen, as long as Max didn't find out it would be okay.

"Okay." he muttered before laying his head on your shoulder. You were still a bit jet lagged from getting back from your trip with Max and decided to close your eyes while the movie played on the TV.

“Papa,” Nico said. “Is Mama sad?”

Max looked up from his phone to see Nico in the living room.

They had only been back from their trip for a few days and Y/N had left to go get groceries with his mom. Sophie was leaving in the morning so Y/N insisted on cooking tonight before they dropped her off at the airport tomorrow.

Nico had never called Y/N mama before, not even when they had gotten back from their vacation, and told Nico that he and Y/N would be getting married.

“You called Y/N Mama, you haven’t before.” Max wanted to know why. Why now?

He knew that Nico had grown quite attached to Y/N after she had moved in with them. Nico liked spending time with Y/N. Nico had thrown a fit before they had left for their vacation because he would be without Y/N for a few weeks. His mom had called him once they had gotten to The Bahamas saying that Nico wanted Mimi to come home and had been crying since seeing Max's plane take off.

Nico gave a shrug of his shoulders. Maybe Nico was too young to understand the concept of a mother.

Nico walked away before pulling out one of the children’s books that he would read to Nico before bed. The story had a very basic structure that would appeal to Nico’s mind. It was about a mother lion taking care of her cubs.

Nico’s finger ran over the picture of the lions on the page before stopping on the mother lion. “She’s their Mama, like Mimi is mine. She takes care of me...” Nico trailed off.

He felt his phone buzz next to him, but didn’t check right away to focus on Nico. He pulled him into his arms and then to sit him on his knee.

“Nico, you know that you can call Y/N Mama, right?” He said to his son in Dutch.

Nico nodded.

“I’m sure that it would make her happy if you did.” Nico didn't say anything to Max for a moment. Max saw him nod.

"When is ...Mama coming home?" Nico slowly said, as if he was trying it out for the first time. Letting the word roll off his tongue, and then assessed if he liked it before giving a small nod that Max would have missed if he wasn't looking.

“Soon,” He said. "Why do you think Mama is sad?" He couldn't help but think back to what Nico said when he first came into the room.

Nico gave a small shrug, "She was looking at her phone yesterday. She looked sad."

Max was a little surprised. Why would Y/N be sad about something on her phone? He would ask her when she got home.

“Come, we’ll go play with some of your toys until she and grandma get home.” He was going to leave it at that. Nico didn't need to worry about that.

He checked his phone to see a text from Lando while Nico went to get out the toys that he wanted to play with.

Nico took things out of boxes while Max quickly texted Lando back,

Max quickly locked his phone turning to Nico to give him all of his attention to play with the mini model cars he had.

This was the why Y/N had been sad, she had seen what people were saying about her on Twitter. He wasn't going to even look because he knew it would just make him angry.

Max and Nico had played for a while before Max asked Nico if he would put all of his toys back.

It wasn’t much later that Max heard the front door open to Y/N and his mom walk through the door with groceries in their hands. Max moved from his spot on the couch and helped take the bags into the kitchen.

Max hugged his mom before pulling Y/N close, he cupped her cheek for a moment before kissing her on the lips. He just needed her to know that he was here for her if she needed anything.

“Hi.” He muttered feeling her pull away.

“Hey.” She said back. He tried to search her eyes to see if Nico was right. If she was sad, he couldn't see a trace of it at the moment.

There was the unmistakable sound of light feet against the hardwood floors.

Max and Y/N turned towards the sound to Nico standing just outside of the kitchen looking at them for a moment before running up to Y/N.

“Mama!” He yelled, before his little arms locked around Y/N’s legs.

Y/N looked down at Nico dropping her hand into his hair.

Max could see the tears filling at the corners of her eyes, not expecting to hear that.

Max couldn’t help but look over at his mom, and could see the approval on her face. It wasn’t something that he needed from her, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

He could see that Y/N pushed away the stray tears that had managed to fall before he had reached over and kissed her forehead letting his hand rest on Nico’s shoulder. Max reached up to cup her chin again feeling the slight tremble of her bottom lip. She was trying to stop herself from crying.

As he looked at her he could see the silent thank you in her eyes. Her letting him know how grateful she is to him for letting her have this. To truly be Nico’s mother.

Y/N had kissed the top of Nico’s head before his mom had shooed them out of the kitchen so they could put the groceries away. Max quickly kissed Y/N on the lips before giving his mom a hug and took Nico with him out of the kitchen.

Y/N had started dinner not long after and they ended up eating some pasta dish that took what felt like no time to cook. Through dinner every time Nico asked Y/N something it started with him calling her Mama. Y/N couldn’t wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the night.

Once Max was done clearing the table after dinner he quickly wrote a message and then posted it to his instagram story, from what he remembers his social media manager told him. It was easy enough. Once they were both up and he had checked them twice for spelling, he had left his phone on it's charger for the rest of the night.

He would never allow a few anonymous people to speak ill of his son's mother, Max loved her too much for that.

maxverstappen1 has added to their story

Sophie had called it an early night so she could finish packing and offered to put Nico to bed. Neither he nor Y/N refused.

Max had tried to get comfortable in bed but he couldn't manage it.

"What's going on?" Y/N said as she climbed into bed. "You’re never like this."

"I got a text from Lando today. Apparently, people on Twitter were talking about you." Max watched as Y/N stopped in her tracks, slowly sitting back against pillows.

She knew, she had seen those comments.

"I'm assuming that you saw them." She said.

"No, I didn't.” He didn’t need to see it to know that Lando was telling him the truth. “Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Because it doesn't matter." Max wanted to fight her on that. People on the internet shouldn't have a right to say things like that about her.

“Y/N,” He started to say.

"I'm his mother Max, Nico sees me as his mom. That's why none of those comments matter." She continued. "I never knew how much I needed to hear him call me that until he did today."

Max could only guess for Y/N how different it was to actually hear Nico call her Mama for the first time. Max remembers the first time that Nico had called him Da. It was barely audible, but Nico had looked right at him when he had said it. He wasn't sure if he was able to breathe after that.

He let out a deep breath before opening his arms for her. She pushed back the sheets resting herself against his side, playing with the loose thread at the hem of his grey t-shirt.

“Mijn leeuwin,” He started to say. “Is this something that you want?” He asked.

“Do you want to legally be his mother?” They had talked about this months ago after he already had gone to get the ring made. Making it legal was just another step for them to fully be a family.

“I don’t need to legally be his mom Max.” She stiffened in his arms, seeing the reflection of the diamond ring just out of the corner of his eyes.

“Do you want to though?” He echoed. He knew that she didn’t need it, she hadn’t in the last few months since they had talked about it the first time. She had never pushed for Nico to call her anything other than the nickname that he had for her.

He looked to see her slightly nod, her eyes glassy with the threat of tears ready to spill from her eyes.

“I’ll give it to you.” He could make it happen, a few calls to his lawyer, looking through the papers that his ex left him about giving up her parental right to Nico, talking to Raymond and it could all be settled just after the wedding.

“Max.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. She didn’t have to say anything else but his name. As she looked up at him again he could see how grateful she was for letting her have the option to legally become Nico’s mother.

Neither of them had to say anything in that moment. It was settled, they were going to start the process of Y/N adopting Nico.

It wasn’t long after that they both fell asleep curled up around each other. Exhausted from the high emotions of the day.

maxverstappen1

Liked by sophiekumpen, victoriaverstappen and 523,345 others

maxverstappen1 Miji Familie

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August 19, 2024

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel

[bucksdoll]

to go w ur recent rafe post..top and kelce meeting rafes gf for the first time n she’s so sickly sweet they’re confused on how she’s able to date rafe, has a big mouth too and LOVES to talk them. they’re too scared of rafe to completely hold the convo but they try to mumble things here and there bc if they upset her they upset rafe !!

𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

overprotective!rafe x fem!reader imagine

trigger warnings : fem!reader , explicit language , drinking , mentions of drugs & alcohol , kinda ‘girly’ reader , fluff , rafe overthinking? , oblivious reader , over protective rafe , topper and kelce being absolutely AWFUL liars/actors , reader is friends with sarah , ward is mentioned (🤮🤮🤮)

summary : topper and kelce are tired of rafes new girlfriend stealing the spotlight, so they invite her to boys night to see why she’s so special.

authors note : THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !! i love this idea, i hope i did it justice :). feel free to drop more requests my way ppl, i write for other obx characters too !! also lmk if i missed any warnings please.

english is not my first language, forgive me

BRIEFLY proofread

rafe, kelce, and topper had a planned ‘boys night’. they’d hangout almost everyday, but on these planned nights, probably once or twice a month, they’d have a more ‘extra’ hangout. they’d go to tanneyhill (or one of the other boys houses), and watch sports or movies on huge screens with overloads of snacks and alcohol (and probably drugs too), and just hang out.

when rafe first announced to them he had gotten a girlfriend, they weren’t shocked. rafe had gotten himself many ‘girlfriends’ over the time they’d known him, but most of them lasted no more than a few weeks. they’d put on their usual show of being mad, all the ‘you better not abandon us because you’re pussy whipped’ shit, never expecting it to actually become a problem.

but, it actually did this time. you two had been dating for almost 2 months now, not a super long time but definitely longer than his past relationships. he would easily skimp out on plans with the boys, saying you wanted him to come over or the two of you had plans. and it wasn’t just you orchestrating everything, they noticed how rafe was starting to initiate plans with you too, saying he was leaving to go surprise you after you got off work etc. right in the middle of hanging out with them. they were fine with it at first, but now it was getting a little annoying.

so, they told rafe to invite you to boys night. it was scheduled to be at tanneyhill this time, so they figured when you got bored you’d leave rafe with them and go to hang out with sarah or something. it wasn’t thought out very much beyond that, but they knew you were friends with sarah, and because it was scheduled at rafes house, they didn’t figure he could escape it.

he argued at first, saying you probably weren’t going to want to go, and you might be busy that night, but after they convinced him to ask you, and you said yes, all plans were a go.

you were excited, honestly. you had picked out your outfit the day before (even though it was just a hangout with your boyfriends friends, and your outfit was just a casual dress). rafe barely let you wear that, insisting you were going to be uncomfortable, and that it was just a hangout. but you wanted to make a good first impression (plus you’d take any excuse to play dress up). you got dolled up a little, threw some jewelry on, and the two of you headed over to tanney hill.

you two walked down into the cameron’s tv hangout area. it wasn’t their main living room, it was in the basement and it was more of an ‘indoor movie theater’ vibe. it had a long black leather sectional, a few bean bag chairs, and a large wooden coffee table. it was filled with snacks; chips, nachos, charcuterie board (the kind they sell at the store), popcorn, candy, etc. off to the side of the room you could see a mini fridge, which kelce and topper were standing near, assumingly ‘getting the party started’, as there was most likely not water in that fridge.

when you hit the bottom step and they locked eyes with you, their jaws almost comedically dropped. you waved at them excitedly, your face lighting up, and rafe just smiled at them, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

you practically ran over to them, and their faces remained shocked.

“hi! it’s so nice to finally meet you guys!! rafe has told me sooo much.” you blabbered out, following that by introducing yourself. you were twitchy, not in a nervous way, but in a ‘barely containing your excitement’ way. you shifted your weight from foot to foot and topper genuinely thought you would’ve started jumping up and down if you got any more excited. your loose curls bounced as you moved, and the bottom of your dress swayed.

“hey..” they were still at a loss for words, even more stunned at your energy than your looks. but their minds quickly came back to them when rafe wandered over, practically shoving them out of the way and bending down to grab a drink out of the fridge. they looked at him as he stood back up and rafe just smiled at them again, but it wasn’t a good smile, rafes never were. it was a threatening one.

little did they know how much rafe dreaded this. rafe barely let you come in the first place. you had agreed to it over text, but the second he got to talk to you face to face he pleaded for you to pull out of the plans. rafe was still stunned how he managed to keep a girl like you for this long; you were practically a princess, you were overly sweet, outgoing, girly, you had straight a’s, and you were so sickly innocent too. you were pretty much the exact opposite of rafe. and he tried his best to hide that fact, especially after he realized you were sticking around.

he stopped going to parties (for the most part) unless there was an extremely necessary reason for him to go. he spent as much time with you as he could. he’d pamper you; buying you gifts, surprising you at work, driving you everywhere you wanted to go, taking you out for expensive and romantic dinners, etc. he was committed to making this work. he knew you didn’t care, he knew that you’d love him no matter what, but he felt the need to upkeep a pristine image for you. and that’s where the boys came in. normally he’d flaunt his new girl, bring her to all the parties he went to, show her off, brag about her. but he wanted to keep you all to himself. he thought topper and kelce were ‘too rowdy’, and too much for you in general, so he kept his friends and you separate. he only ever talked about them, never showed you them. till now, of course.

you stood there, biting your lip in anticipation, still waiting for them to say literally anything other than hey. when rafe shot them another look, they did. he wanted them to atleast say something. rafe knew you had been anticipating meeting his friends, and he knew how excited you were to talk to them. he’d entertain it for a minute or so, because the boys blowing you off or being dicks to you would probably piss him off even more than them overly talking to you.

“oh uh, i’m topper and this is kelce.” topper let out, clearly holding his breath a little. they both swallowed thickly, sharing each other glances, not knowing what to do next. thankfully, rafe seemed to have more than enough of you three interacting at that point, and tugged you over to the couch with him.

“sorry, i’ll be right back.” you apologetically laughed before turning and letting rafe tug you the rest of the way back to the couch.

rafe put a protective hand on your ass as you walked, sharing the boys a glance, and they very quickly turned to face the wall, muttering many renditions of ‘what the fuck dude’ and ‘what are we supposed to do’s under their breaths.

rafe tucked you into the corner of the couch, pulling a throw blanket off the back and gently covering you with it along with putting a few pillows around you.

“you comfy?” he mumbled, and you barely heard him with how much he was grimacing.

“yea baby thank you, but i wasn’t done talkin-“

“no, you were done.” he met your eyes, and before a frown could form on your mouth, he quickly added;

“you can talk to ‘em more later. aight?” and that was it.

rafe eventually got comfy beside you, only after getting you any snack or beverage you wanted from the assortment of options. kelce and topper settled too, sitting very far away from you both in the two bean bag chairs. if rafe hadn’t completely blocked your sight of them, you would’ve definitely thought they didn’t like you or something.

the movie they had decided on (some random comedy) came and went. it was only a few minutes before the end when rafes phone started to buzz in his pocket. he ignored it for the first few buzzes, but when he realized they weren’t giving up, he pulled it out. it was ward.

“hey baby, i’m so sorry, i gotta take this, you can stand upstairs and wait for me it really shouldn’t be long i-“

“you’re totally fine rafe, go ahead babe. i’m good here.” you quickly reassured, smiling at him. and he quickly ran up and out of the basement, not before shooting a lethal look towards kelce and topper.

the movie ended soon after, and you were left with the awkward playing of the credits song. after a few uncomfortable minutes, you stood up and decided to take actions into your own hands, seeing they weren’t going to talk to you.

you wandered over to topper and kelce, who quickly looked away from you as soon as you started towards them. kelce struggled to pull his phone out of his shorts pocket, which proved to be more difficult than he had expected, so he quickly switched to awkwardly holding his hands together in his lap. topper on the other hand was making it painfully obvious he was trying to look at you, practically breaking his kneck to look in the opposite direction.

“hey guys!” you smiled at them, sweet as ever, holding you hands behind your back. “so, tell me about yourselves! i mean ive heard soooo much from rafe, but like, tell me from your perspectives ya know? i heard you two like golf, my dad actually-“

“you know.. we actually gotta go.. for a smoke break!” kelce interrupted before you could get too much of a conversation started.

“oh shit yea! we reeeeally gotta go for a smoke break.” topper said as he snapped his head towards kelce, instantly relieved that he came up with an out.

“but i-“

“we are really sooooo sorry.” topper sarcastically reassured, smiling at you as the two of them practically threw themselves out of their seats, walking backwards in the direction of the stairs, tripping over each other a little on the way there.

“yea we are sososososo sorry.” kelce added, hoping to be convincing enough.

“oh, okay! can i come-“

“you should really go check on rafe actually! he’s been gone for a whiiiile now.. i sure hope he’s okay…” topper added, over exaggerating to hopefully get your attention elsewhere. rafe hadn’t even been gone for 10 minutes. you looked down at your feet as you over thought the idea, and when you looked back up to thank them for reminding you, they were long gone.

[lovingmattysposts]

You don't know me 26

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: mentions of family dramaaa

"Nate said that?" Chris mumbled as his hand played with my fingers. I just watched our hands together as I laid against him. "Yep" I sighed as he interlaced our fingers. Chris sighed as he dropped our hands.

"I don't blame him, he probably thinks I'm exactly like my mother" I sighed as I tilted my head to look up at him. He looked down at me. He shook his head. "It's not an excuse, you're two completely different people" Chris defended. I looked down, leaning my head back against his shoulder as we laid in his bed.

"I'm not trying to pin you against your best friend Chris"

"It's hard to not be against him"

"Chris"

"What?"

I closed my eyes feeling my stomach twist. "I didn't want this to happen" I mumbled. His hand disconnected from mine and his arms snaked around me. "We don't have to talk about it. I'm not trying to make you upset. I know today's been a lot for you" He whispered trying to ease the mood.

I rolled over causing his arms to shift as I laid on top of him. I smiled down at him, and pressed our noses together. He smiled.

"So are you just never gonna try and talk to James?"

I groaned and buried my face in his neck. I knew he was just curious, trying to push me forward. It wasn't his fault.

"It’s just not fair" He mumbled quickly, squeezing my sides. I hummed against him. I lifted my head and his eyes caught mine. "What about your dad? You don't talk to him" I said raising my eyebrows. His demeanor shifted and his hands released me and he looked away.

Struck a nerve. Shit.

"I just--If we're talking about child-parent relationships, you have a connection to your dad. Why don't-" I tried to recover poorly. "Don't go there, it's different" He mumbled shifting underneath me, but not pushing me off him.

"I just wanna make sure you're okay too" I whispered. "You're so worried about me, let me worry about you" I said trying to catch his eyes. He let out a breath.

"I'm moving back into their house, he'll have to like me somewhat. I'll be fine" He almost whispered. I looked away from him.

I still hadn't told him about my deal with my mom. If he had the option, I didn't even know if he would choose to stay. After all he was forced to move here, just because we were together doesn't necessarily mean that he wanted to stay.

"Have I told you that I loved you recently?" I whispered. He looked over at me before sighing. "I love you too" He whispered. I smiled and pressed my lips against his cheek softly and slowly before moving back to face him.

He glanced down.

"After they told me they were moving me into my grandpa’s house, I told them that I loved Rose more than I loved them" He stated. I just looked at him, feeling the shift of energy. I moved off of him, but kept my eyes on him. He moved and fear flashed across his eyes.

I reached over, connecting our hands. If we were going to have a serious conversation, I didn't want to be on top of him. I wanted him to know that I was listening, not that I was jealous from his words. I knew he loved Rose, I wasn't jealous of that anymore.

Once our fingers connected and a look of understanding crossed my eyes, he relaxed. "Did you mean it?" I asked softly as my thumb moved across the back of his hand. He leaned against the pillows looking up at the ceiling.

"I don't know" He mumbled. "I don't really know If I meant it, I just knew that it would hurt, so I said it" He said looking down at our hands. I studied his face. He was good at that, making words hurt. I knew that first hand, sadly.

"I'm not proud of it" He shook his head. "Yeah" I breathed. He looked over at me. "It's okay Chris, people do things out of hurt. It's a natural reaction, it's normal" I said. He shook his head. "Nothing about the way that I react is normal" He sighed closing his eyes. I swallowed.

"Do you wanna go back?" I hestiated. He looked over at me. "I don't wanna leave you" He whispered. I blinked at him. "That's not what I asked" I said softly. He just looked at me.

"I don't like making decisions, i'm not used to it. Every decision that has brought me to this point has been made for me." He said. I sighed closing my eyes. I shouldn't have opened this can of worms, because I was scared of what it entailed.

"I don't-" He paused.

"It's not that I don't want to go back, it's that I'm scared to go back" He whispered. I opened my eyes. He was looking at me. "That town holds memories that I don't want to remember. I felt like I was a different person there" He mumbled.

"A better person?"

"Y/n"

"If you had the choice, would you stay?"

He just looked at me, before turning. "Are you afraid that if you go back that remembering Rose would make you forget about me?" I asked disconnecting our fingers. His head snapped over to me.

"Y/n, No" He sat up looking down at me. "It's just--" He stopped closing his eyes. "Before I came to Michigan, I was never violent. I never started fights. Every emotion I felt didn't turn into anger. I was..." He swallowed.

"Happy" I finished for him. He glanced over at me. "I was just a different person" He breathed. I nodded sitting up.

"I love you"

"I know you do" I whispered. "I don't want to break up when I move" He swallowed. I looked over at him. "I'm serious" He grabbed my hand. I just watched him.

"If you had a choice. Would you stay?"

"Why are you acting like I have a choice?"

The door opened before Dan's eyes met mine. Chris turned his head to him. A smile crept onto Dan's face. I looked down at my lap. Just from Dan's face, reality crashed over Chris. I felt his eyes burn into mine.

I swallowed before removing my hand from his.

"I'll let you guys....." I breathed pushing off the bed and avoiding Chris's gaze. "Talk" I breathed before grabbing my shoes and moving past Dan's smiling face. I couldn't breathe as I walked down the hallway of his house.

-

I knew that life wasn't fair. I understood that and I was starting to except that. It wasn't fair for me to keep Chris here if it's not where he felt like he belonged. That being said, if Chris does leave.

I blinked up at the house, for the second time in two days.

I had to have someone.

I walked up the steps. I raised my fist to knock, but paused and turned and walked down the steps.

what if he doesn't like me?

what if he doesn't want me?

what if he looks at me and all he sees is my mom, like my mom does with him?

Doubt crept in. The thought of someone else not accepting me, make me sick to my stomach. He wanted to see me when I was a baby. What changed?

My feet hit the payment of the driveway before I heard a car door slam. I froze. If Nate saw me outside of his house again, I think he'd actually hit me. But a part of me knew it wasn't Nate this time.

I wasn't fully out of the driveway yet and I was frozen as I saw someone in my peripheral vision walking from a parked car on the street.

"Hello?" a voice rang. I felt my entire body shake. I forced my eyes up before I saw a man. The same color hair as Nate, tall, lean, scruff lining his face. He looked like Scott’s age.

He was holding something in his hands. A bag from a takeout place nearby. I don't remember the last time I had take-out food. I'd only really had prepared meals from our chef that stayed in our guest house.

I smelt the food as he got closer. Once we made eye contact, I looked down at my feet. "Uh, sorry I was just leaving" I mumbled quickly. I saw his feet pause in front of me. My whole body shook.

"Are you here for Nate? He just left to go play hockey with some guys at the old rink"

He didn't recongize me. I could get out of this.

"Yeah, I figured. I was just leaving" I said shaking my head. He tilted his head. I still hadn't look up.

"What's your name sweetheart?" His kind voice rang through me like a thousand bolts of electricity at the unthought aboutnickname. I felt a lump in my throat.

"Rose" I lied. The first name I thought of. I wasn't proud of it, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

"Well, Rose. I can give him a call, if you haven't already. He didn't tell me he was expecting-"

I looked up at him.

His smile dropped.

I bit my lip as he stared at me. We had the same eyes. Same round shape, same color. I swallowed. His face dropped in color as the realzation hit him.

"Y/n-" he barley got out before I moved on my feet.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come" I mumbled as tears filled my eyes. I heard the bag of food drop and steps come after me.

"Y/n, wait. Please"

I wiped my face as I stopped and turned to look at him. His mouth was parted as he search for words. I looked down feeling my chest clench.

"I shouldn't have come I-I'm sorry. I know you probably don't want to see me" I choked out as I tried to regain the feeling in my legs. "I've waited 18 years to see your face" he said making me look up at him.

He shook his head.

"Can I--" His voice shook. "Can I hug you?" He breathed. I blinked at him before I slowly nodded. He stepped forward before his arms came around me and he pulled me into his chest. He wasn't overly tall, a little taller than Chris and Nate, but not over 6 foot.

"My little girl" He breathed. Almost like he was saying it to himself not to me. I stood frozen against him, but he held me like he never wanted to let go. I swallowed before I allowed myself to hug him back.

We stood there for a second. In the middle of the driveway, just a daughter hugging her father. It felt like the world stopped spinning.

He pulled back from me and I saw tears in his eyes.

"Please, come inside" He said placing his hands on my shoulders. I opened my mouth and looked back towards the road. "I-" I breathed before looking back at him. Pure hope and almost....regret? Filled his face as he looked down at me.

"Okay" I nodded. He smiled before placing his hand on my back. He picked up the food off the ground, that lucky hadn't spilled, as he walked me towards the front door.

I felt my heart pound against my chest so loudly, it was all I could hear. I was scared. I was scared of Nate coming home early. I was scared of my parents---well my mother and Scott, finding out I was here. I was scared that the man I've built up in my head the past 24 hours wasn't the man I dreamt of. Or worse, he was.

I've gone back and forth. Felt every emotion. Anger, happiness, fear, anxiety, hopefulness, depression, doubt, every single one. Towards the man I had just laid eyes on for the first time.

He pushed the door open and I noticed that his hands were shaky. I walked in before him and my eyes drifted over his home. Nicer than Chris's, definitely not as nice as mine, but my favorite house I've ever seen.

A decent sized living room, with up to date furniture. A flatscreen tv in front of the couch with a Michigan State jeresy hung in the living room. It's where both my parents went to college, and now I'm assuming he went too.

The only thing that made my heart turn were the pictures lining the hallway of Nate. None of me. No reminisce of me, anywhere. Not that their would be. But it still hurt, because if you walked into the house you would have no idea I'd even existed to him. And that's exactly how I felt.

"C-Can I get you something to drink? Are you thirsty? Do you like tea?" He fired questions at me once we entered the living room. I opened my mouth as I tore my eyes away from the home decor and looked at him.

"I-uh..yeah sure" I mumbled. He let out a breath and smiled softly before walking into the kitchen. I just watched him as he reached for the fridge. White walls, a kitchen island, a loaf of bread on the counter, and a sign that read:

In this house we EAT

I smiled softly, it went away fast, I barley even realized it happened. I let out a breath as I turned and looked around. One set of stairs that led to the second floor and a railing that overlooked the living room from upstairs. I let out a breath seeing pictures of Nate in hockey uniforms lining the walls. It felt like a knife in my throat.

"Shit"

I turned seeing he spilled some tea onto the counter. His hands shook against the bottle of tea. He closed his eyes and took in a breath before moving and grabbing a paper towel.

At least I wasn't the only one losing their shit right now. I looked down at my hands and clasped them together before I heard footsteps entering the living room.

"Here you go" He smiled handing me a cup of iced tea. I looked down at it and looked up at him. "Thank you" I breathed. He sighed and wiped his hands against his jeans, nodding.

"I normally don't have tea, but Nate-he likes-" He started to say. I bit my lip and looked down at the mention of Nate. His son. My brother. You know the one he didn't pretend didn't existed for 18 years?

"Do you want to sit?" He asked pausing his previous sentence, probably due to my reaction, and motioned towards the couch. I forced a small smiled and nodded before I froze bringing my cup over the carpet.

I wasn't allowed to have drinks or food in the living room at home. I remembered once I had orange juice in the living room and spilled in on the white carpet.....I wasn't allowed to drink orange juice ever again and was placed on a water-only diet until I was 12.

12

They were angry over it for 5 years.

He noticed my hestitation. I glanced at the carpet before kicked off my shoes and holding the cup close to my body as I walked slowly over the carpet before placing it in the middle of the table next to the couch. That way, if I moved my arm or my legs I wouldn't knock it over on the carpet.

I lifted my hand from the cup calmly before sitting on the couch. He was already sitting my the time I did my ritual. He just looked at me. I couldn't read him. But I knew I saw a hint of confusion. I looked down and noticed he was wearing boots.

Dirty boots.

Like he had just gotten off a job sight. And his feet were placed against the carpet. His boots against the carpet. His dirt filled boots, against the wool.

I looked up at his eyes realizing how insane I must have looked taking off my shoes and making sure there was no possible way for me to harm his carpet with my feet or my drink.

I swallowed and looked down at my lap.

"Sorry" I whispered. He didn't say anything for a second and I heard him smack his lips before speaking.

"You're beautiful. You've grown up a beautiful girl, Y/n" He breathed. I could tell he was practically begging for me to look up at him, and I wanted to, but I couldn't.

It's not like you would have known. My mind rang at his words.

But I couldn't even find myself to be angry. I found myself to just be hurt, fighting back tears. "Thank you" I whispered. He took in a breath as his hands slid down his jeans.

"How-" He paused, licking his lips. "Did your mother tell you?" He asked softly. I blinked up at him. I noticed how he said mother instead of Clara. I wondered if it was as hard for him to say Clara, as it was for my mother to say James.

"No" I stated blankly. "But she knows I know" I said. He nodded and looked down. I pulled my legs up against my chest, like I did when I felt like I had nothing else to hold onto.

"Okay" He breathed. I turned and looked at him. He looked at me. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to do this. I wasn't prepared to-" He swallowed stopping himself. I closed my eyes.

"I know you're probably very angry and confused" He shook his head. "And feel like you've been lied to" He shook his head. Bingo James, nailed it right on the head.

“But I promise you when I say that not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you—“ He breathed shaking his head. I just watched him. He swallowed trying to contain his emotions.

“Why did you never try to see me?” I whispered. He took in a breath before looking at the ground. “When your mother…” He swallowed. Just like my mother, it looks like it pained him to speak about it,

“Decided for the both of us that she was going to say you were his-“ He didn’t have to clarify who ‘his’ was, because we both knew it was Scott.

“If I had tried to reach out to you, or be in your life, he wouldn’t have understood why” He stated shaking his head. I could feel the regret forming in his words.

“And I obliged to your mom’s wishes to just stay out of it” He breathed. I just watched him. “Because you loved her” I stated. He closed his eyes and looked at me.

“The moment I agreed to pretend that you weren’t mine—“ His face tightened and I saw tears line his eyes. “I’ve hated a part of myself ever since” He whispered, shaking his head. He looked down.

“I don’t expect you to believe anything I’m saying. My dad was never present. If he told me something like this I would probably tell him to piss off” He shook his head. I just watched him. It was something I should do, but I didn’t have anything else but to believe him.

“Don’t take this as creepy as it sounds, but..” He paused. “I know about your life. I know you were on the debate team. I know you were dating the Hasting’s son for a while. I know that when you were little, your hair was lighter than it is now, and I know that you favorite color is purple because you wear it so much. Luckily for me, Clara can’t kick me off social media. Even though I agreed to not see you, I still wanted to know how your life was going. If it was good. If you were happy” He finished hesitantly.

I just looked at him before hope sparked in me. There was no way of him knowing that without him actually meaning what he said, he kept up with my life. I looked down at my feet. That doesn’t fix the strain on my trust. Sadly my trust for people as dwindled deeply from what I’ve been through these past few months.

“I don’t know how to trust you” I breathed honestly. “I don’t expect you to trust me. You’ve been lied to your whole life, I’ve lied to you. Your mother has lied to you” He shook his head.

“I’m not expecting you to run into my arms or even call me dad” He sighed pausing softly after dad. I felt my heart ripple.

“But if you want a relationship with me-“ He shook his head. “There is nothing I’ve wanted more in my entire life and I will not take it for granted” He said meeting my eyes. I just looked at him.

He licked his lips.

“But if that’s not what you want, I can completely understand” he tilted his head, like it pained him to say it. “If you just came here to hear the truth, I can understand that too” He nodded softly.

I looked around the house before looking back at him. “Did you ever marry?” I asked suddenly. He looked up at me, blinking. Like he was shocked by the question.

“I—I didn’t see any pictures of a female on the walls. Only Nate. I didn’t know” I whispered shaking my head. He took in a breath raising his eyebrows before he shook his head.

“I never married” He answered my question. I nodded and looked down. "Nate's mother wasn’t....." He said looking in front of him. "someone I even wanted to be with, to put as bluntly as possible" He shook his head. A rebound. He meant to say.

"I think the greatest thing to come out of my past mistakes were you and Nate" He said glancing over at me. The corners of my mouth turned up before they fell back flat.

"I came here before today." I admitted. He just watched me. "I ran into Nate" I explained. James closed his eyes and sighed. "When did you tell him I was his sister?" I asked softly. He pursed his lips.

"He saw me looking through Clara's page--pictures of you-" He glanced at me. "Before he accuse me of something absurd, I explained to him everything." He glanced at me. I nodded. I realized how weird it would look to see him stalking a teenage girl online if you didn't know the circumstances.

"That was at the beginning of the summer, about 10 months ago" He breathed. I sighed. "I should have told him sooner. It had always been Nate and I since the beginning and....I just should have told him, but I didn't what to explain that his father willingly gave up his first child and barley tried to fight" He swallowed. Guilt lined his tired eyes.

"I read the letters, you fought" I said softly. He looked up at me, surprised by my statement. I didn't know if it was from the fact that I read the letters or that I told him that he did fight.

"I didn't know she kept the letters" He stated.

The fact that I read the letters.

"I'm not like my mother"

"You're very much like your mother" He nodded looking at me.

I looked up at him. He sighed. "The Clara that I knew, maybe not the one you know" He corrected himself. I bit my lip and looked down. "Not the one I know" I whispered shaking my head, he just watched me. I looked up at him.

"Can I ask you something?" I said. He nodded quickly. "Why does Nate hate me so much?" I whispered. He licked his lips and looked down. "When I have to go to Clara's page-" He shook his head.

"And I have to see picture of her, Scott, and you all together. As much as it makes me happy to see how you're doing....seeing you with Scott and Clara and not me, as adolescent as it is….It makes me angry.” He sighed.

“So when Nate questioned me, I was already on edge from seeing her page, that I said some things about your mother that I shouldn't have, out of anger." He stated.

"I didn't paint her in the best light, and Nate's so....." He looked up trying to find the right words.

"Mouthy?" I asked, letting a chuckle escape James's throat. "I was going to say intutative" He said glancing over at me. I smiled and looked down. "He must have thought, like mother like daughter" He said looking at me.

I sighed as the realization washed over me. Nate hearing what his father went through with Scott and Clara and her seeing them both, he must have thought I'd do the exact same thing with Chris and Max. No wonder he hated my guts.

"I see" I nodded. "Must be why he hated seeing me with Chris so much" I said looking up at James. His eyebrows rose. "Chris?" His face lightened. I couldn't help the smile that came to my lips.

"Yeah" I smiled running my finger over the fabric of the couch. James leaned back. "Chris has a good heart—bad temper, but a good heart" James smiled. I nodded in agreement.

"I was with Max and I started seeing Chris kind of in the middle of it and...." I shook my head. James just watched me. "Needless to say Nate didn't approve" I said meeting James's eyes. James nodded. "I see" He breathed.

"Are you still seeing Max?" He asked. I shook my head. "No, he had a bad temper and a bad heart" I explained. James pursed his lips. "I'm not proud of how I got to where I am with Chris. But I love him. So I guess...Like mother like daughter" I breathed looking up at James. He nodded.

"You're exactly how I imagined you'd be" He breathed looking at me. I smiled and shook my head. "What does that mean?" I asked softly. He smiled. "A little bit of Clara and a little bit of me" He smiled. I looked down and smiled.

"Is it bad that I feel like a cheater all over again talking to you without Nate's knowledge?" I asked softly. James sighed. "Let me worry about Nate, he's my son. He can't be mad at me" He said placing his hand on my knee.

"You think he'll except this?" I asked softly. James face lightened. "You mean you want to have a relationship with me?" He asked softly.

I have no one else left. Doubt filled my mind.

I haven't had an adult speak with me in such love before. Hope clouded the doubt.

I nodded softly. "If you're open to it" I breathed motioning to him. He smiled before sitting up and pulling his arms around me. I smiled and let his embrace consume me.

"You're my daughter. I'd sail across the world for you" He breathed against me. I smiled as I hugged him back.