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taintedcigs · 4 months

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GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER EIGHT: MADE YOUR MARK ON ME

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✦ summary: in which you and eddie try to navigate the aftermath of the kiss (wc: 5.8k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF n then angst oops, a little bit of argument but v tiny, uhmmm smut, p in v, unprotected sx (wrap it up irl), lots of praises, kinda rough. body worshipping? idk. eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — @andvys my angel thank u for all ur love & help💗🙏🏻 not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. i honestly have a love-hate relationship w this chapter BUT ENJOY!!. also like... ily all for all the love on the last chapter omg?

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series, pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

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Minutes.

But it felt like hours.

And you didn’t want it to be over.

Judging by the hold he had on you, calloused hands grabbing onto your flesh like a man-starved, neither did he.

This was all he ever wanted. Ever since the day you flagged him over when your car broke down. Even when you were a bitch to him. Even when you rolled your pretty eyes at him. Even when you left him. All he fucking wanted was you.

Always just out of his grasp, close but never close enough. And this? This was a dream come true. Fucking explosions and butterflies in your stomach type of shit that Eddie always mocked, that you always mocked.

That scar in his heart that scabbed at the mention of you. Healed. All gone. One kiss from you and it was all back to normal.

“Eddie!” A booming yell echoed in everyone else’s ears but you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I swear I’m gonna kill him, Eddie where the fuck are you?”

Was that… Gareth?

If Gareth fucking ruined this for him, he was going to hang him by his balls, up on the wall, make sure he could never fucking—

“Eddie!”

And you pulled away, first, Eddie was going to fucking kill him now. A vivid torture method flashed across his mind. Even the adorable flustered look on your face as you drew a breath wasn’t enough to calm him down.

“I—I think your set is about to-”

“Fuck the set,” Eddie spat, his veins still pumping with the need for you. Brain hazy, he was never going to get enough of you, was he? A hunger that was never going to be sated.

The lingering gaze was interrupted by Gareth, scoffing while he dragged Eddie away, ignoring the threats and the cusses that left his lips, the same gentle ones that were just stuck on yours, the sweetest taste, from the filthiest mouth.

You really needed to shut your goddamn brain up. But how could you?

His body was turned toward you, shirt stretched out—you did have a tight hold on him. Pale lips now a bit shiny from your candy gloss, stretched into the widest grin, eyes glinting with something you’ve never seen in him before. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

But it was beautiful. He was pretty. Tempting.

You could barely comprehend Eddie’s words when his gaze on you was that striking. “We’re Corroded Coffin, thank you and goodnight.” Slipped past your ears, you didn’t care, you needed him.

What happens now?

Lingered in your mind, you wanted him to rush to you like you’re in a fucking rom-com, lock your lips in a dizzying kiss, again, you didn’t fucking care. You wanted more. You needed more.

You could feel the eyes of everyone, including Steve’s impatient nail-biting, dying to know what the fuck happened between the two of you. Yet they didn’t dare to ask you until Jonathan and Nancy had left since the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow. And ever since they were gone, Robin and Steve had been teasing you nonstop, trying to make you crack.

Clearly, something had gone down, and the co-dependent idiots had to know.

“He looks like he’s going to eat you.” Steve hummed, making you roll your eyes at him.

You were about to give him a smart-ass answer, but of course, he didn’t let you. “I bet if I laid one hand on you, he’d end up here in seconds.” Steve barked out a laugh, Robin joining him as you threw them a dead-set glare.

“It’s not like that—we haven’t—he won’t.” Your frustration was interrupted by a grinning Steve.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve teased, his hand quick to brush away the strand of hair away from your face, fingertips gently brushing against your cheeks, making heat flutter to your cheeks.

“Steve!” you protested, your gaze widening as you chided him, while Robin playfully counted down from ten by your other side.

Steve ignored your protests, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug. You attempted to push him off with a scoff, but he was relentless.

“Three… Two…” Robin's counting came to a halt, and your childish squabble with Steve ceased as a deep voice interrupted.

“Mind if I borrow her for a bit?” The metalhead’s gravelly voice cut through the air, his gaze shooting daggers at Steve, who only smirked, much to Eddie's obvious dismay.

“Eight seconds,” Steve murmured in your ear, you could almost feel his stupid smirk forming on your ear shell, prompting a huff from you.

“She’s all yours, man,” Steve chuckled, releasing his hold and retreating with Robin, leaving the two of you alone. Eddie scoffed at Steve's retreating figure before turning his attention to you.

“What’s their damage?” His brows scrunched together as he watched Steve and Robin walk away, engrossed in their hushed gossip.

“Do you have all day?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, earning a chuckle from him.

He liked this, he loved this, he missed this. Easy banter, shared laughter.

“So… you goin’ home?” Eddie asked, nonchalant, like his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest each time you stole a glance at him.

You nodded, keeping it simple, almost avoiding his gaze. His exaggerated reaction, a spat-out “What?” made you giggle. A melody he could never have enough of.

“Well, the night’s almost over, so…”

“Come with me,” He muttered, amber gaze like silk as it connected with yours.

“Where?”

“Mi casa es yours or whatever the saying goes.” He grinned.

With a huff, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you muttered.

“Why?”

“You know why.” You enunciated.

He raised a brow, “Enlighten me.”

“I—It’s late.”

“So? That never stopped us before.” He shrugged, seemingly unfazed.

“Oh, c’mon Pinky,” he coaxed, “we never end nights this early, at least not until we’re a couple more joints in, smushed on the couch, putting on some old horror movie… I thought we were revisiting the past.” He hummed, puppy dog eyes staring at your soul. Shit.

You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Are you really gonna say no to gettin’ high with me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart.

A nickname you had heard so many times before. Yet, it was different, the way it rolled off his lips making you almost jump in place.

“Okay,” you gulped, physically. Fuck.

He grinned, taking you by hand, fuck all, while you waved a shy goodbye to Robin and Steve, who watched it all with an all-knowing grin.

“Pay up,” Steve turned to Robin with his palm in front of her.

Robin snorted, “No fucking way.”

“Trust the process, Robin. Trust the fucking process.” Steve huffed, watching the two of you leave hand-in-hand.

As the two of you entered the familiar house, the sight of it brought enough memories that made you feel light-headed, a repository of memories flooded in your mind.

“Is Wayne around?” you inquired, breaking the silence that clung to the space. Eddie, leading the way, answered nonchalantly, “Nah. At his girlfriend’s.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait what? Wayne has a girlfriend?” You exclaimed.

“Uh-huh, Hannah.”

“Oh! That’s great!”

“Yeah, he’s having sleepovers with her like a fucking teenager, I told him to ask her to move in, but he’s too chicken shit,” he scoffed.

“Oh, come on.” You elbowed him playfully, “Be nice to him, he deserves this,” you said with a smile.

He nodded in agreement, “He does.” Then turned to you. “You want anything to drink?” You shook your head.

You didn’t know why, and you didn’t know how, but a shyness appeared within you, propping up your elbows as you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him intently.

With a shrug, he opened the fridge, taking out a Schlitz, gaze on you dangerous when he popped it open with his teeth, barking a chuckle when you squirmed at the sudden, sharp sound.

“Fidgety much?” He grinned, that damn dimple taking its place on the corner of his mouth, making all sorts of warmth flush to your cheeks, making you feel so timid under his gaze.

You could sense the cockiness radiating off of him, it was addicting, and it was making you feel more and more shy under him. Because both of you knew why you were here, at two fucking A.M., dismissing everyone else, flirting and bickering all the way home.

Yet, since you entered the familiar trailer, you had been silent. Because you knew, you fucking knew that kiss changed everything. But this would seal it. Another step forward. A territory the two of you had never crossed before.

And your mind was not being kind to you, screaming at you to stop, to run, to not fucking do this, because you’d end up hurt, because someway somehow he’d end up hurting too, but Eddie wasn’t having any of it.

Your silence made him cockier and cockier, drawing you in more and more. And if he kept it up, you knew even your idiotic abandonment issues wouldn’t be enough to stop you from jumping on him.

You wanted this, all your mind could replay was his fingers on that damn guitar, the way his mouth popped open that damn can of beer, the way his stupid plushy lips curled into a smirk. Shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead when he leaned on the counter, arms flexing with it.

Stop fucking thinking about it.

“You gonna answer me or what, sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“Jesus, you okay?” He asked, concerned, cornering you in the kitchen with his soft hazel eyes.

Fuck.

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“‘M f-fine!” You answered too quickly and meekly for that to be the truth.

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me.”

Yes. No. Yes. No. I think I crave you more than I’m mad at you, but I can’t let you know that, your thoughts swirled.

“I thought—”

You interrupted all quippily, “Thought what? That kissing me would suddenly undo everything?”

“No…” He sighed, “I thought I proved myself to you.”

“You did, but that doesn’t undo it.”

“Well, I forgave you.”

You scoffed. “You know forgiving me doesn’t mean shit if you bring it up every time I tell you you did something wrong, right?”

Crossing his arms against his chest, “Can you blame me?” He muttered, almost defeated.

“What would you do? If I up and left, would you just forgive me? Would you just trust me and act like it was all okay?” He tensed, words spilling out of his mouth like venom.

And you narrowed your gaze, returning it back to him. “What would you do if I kissed Jason? I asked you that, yet you never answered. Would you still kiss me? Would you still write notes for me, knowing that Jason’s slimy lips were brushing—“

He was quick to wave his hands in front of your face, grimacing just at the thought. “Stop! Just fucking stop!”

“What, too much for you?” You spat.

“Of course, it’s too much for me! T—the thought of him, anyone, being with you… makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Good, then I think we’re even!” You suggested.

“Even?” He scoffed, “Is that all you fuckin’ care about?” He retorted, making you huff, once again.

“God, no! I just—I just mean we both did fucked up shit and from this point on we either move on, or we never talk to each other again, which we can’t seem to do!” You snapped, that anger from before had disappeared though, the kiss had softened things. Softened you.

“Okay, then let’s just move on!” He took a step toward you, getting close again. So fucking close.

You took a step back, your back hitting the marble counter, yet you remained on your angry stance. “Fine by me!” You retorted, all hastily.

“That’s fine by me too!” He agreed, towering over you, trying to one-up you.

“Good!” And, of fucking course you returned the energy. Stubbornness is exactly what defined the two of you, babbling like a bunch of kids over nothing.

Eddie didn’t hesitate to take another step toward you, this time, both his hands on the marble kitchen counter, fully cornering you, as he grinned. “Great!”

And you were about to answer, about to one-up him, like he did with you… but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Looked at how fucking close he was to you, and you shuddered a deep breath, getting caught up in your throat when it reminded you of the kiss.

And that’s when Eddie realized it.

You weren’t really mad at him.

At least not really, not since the kiss.

You were nervous… because he was standing this close to you.

A piece of dangerous information for Eddie—someone who had been in love with you since you were teens, to acquire, because it’d turn him into an arrogant fuck in a matter of seconds—even more so than he ever was.

“Oh.” The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, he was grinning like a devil now.

“What?” You furrowed your brows, trying to have that annoyed stance from before, but it wasn’t working.

“Why are you looking at me like—”

He was quick to interrupt, face inches away from yours. “You’re not mad, at least not that much, you’re… nervous.” He grinned.

“N—nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

“Because of me.” That stupid smirk on his lips returned

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“What happened to that Pinky who refused to talk to me today? Who told me we couldn’t do this? Did one kiss soften you up this much?” He quipped, making you scoff.

“You know what? You’re an asshole.” You sneered.

“There she is.”

“When did you become this cocky, Munson?” You narrowed your gaze.

“I was always an arrogant fuck, sweetheart. But I’d say the kiss helped, like a fuck ton, and you squirming now, too.” He shrugged, like what he just said was no big deal, like how close he was to you didn’t make you gulp nervously.

You almost gasped, offended, like it wasn’t the truth. “I’m not fucking squirming—”

“Look at you… shuddering a breath just because I’m this close to you.” He barked out a chuckle, gaze dangerous, dare you say… lustful.

“Fuck you,” You spat, feeling small under his bashful gaze, cheeks heating.

“Well, I’m trying sweetheart,” He was quick, you had to give him that, making heat grow everywhere in your body, but especially within your thighs now, fuck, he was smooth.

And you weren’t willing to put up a fight, or a front, you wanted—needed him. You couldn’t deny yourself him any longer, not even your commitment issues were enough to hold you off.

“You’re s—such a little shit,” You stuttered, embarrassingly so.

God, you wanted to wipe his smirk off by kissing him, you wanted to feel his honey-flavored lips on yours again, you wanted to feel his lips twitch against yours instead of the air.

And he was close again, all in your face, all you had to do was lean a little bit and his lips would be on yours.

“And you’re an absolute pain in my—”

Fuck it.

You fisted his stupid shirt, crashing your lips down to his, dizzying, just as magnetic as before, but needier. His lips still tasted the sweetest, yet mixed with the bitter taste of the beer on his tongue made you grow weak in the knees.

You were about to open your mouth fully, to feel his greedy tongue on yours, but much to your surprise, Eddie pulled away, making you whine.

“Wait—” He faltered.

“What?”

“Do you want this?” He asked

“Yes!” Your voice raised an octave.

“Tell me you want this.” His gaze was serious.

“I do,” you breathed.

He scoffed. “No, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Eddie—”

“I wanna hear you, or we can just pretend like none of it happened, I can forget the kiss we can just sit around here and—”

I want to know if you’re in this as much as I am, is what he meant.

“Jesus you’re so fucking—” You scoffed, but he actually backed away, your eyes widening at him.

“W—wait!” You pleaded.

An awaiting grin sat on his lips and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Of course I want this, Eddie. I’ve wanted you for five fucking years, I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you—okay wait maybe that’s a lie because you really were annoying the first time we met but I wanted, no, I want you—”

His mouth crashed against yours, interrupting you in the best fucking way. His lips felt warm, hot almost. Skin burning everywhere where he touched you, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“So eager, princess, already begging for me, hmm?” He taunted, making you roll your eyes in an instant.

“Just shut up you, asshole.” He grinned, mouth crashing down on yours once again. Much more gentle this time, but rough enough to have your chests pressed together.

His lips only left yours to be reattached to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from your chin to your cheekbone. “‘M sorry, sweetheart, I just can help myself you’re so—” He mumbled, voice muffled by your skin.

He lifted you up, strong hands meeting behind your waist in one harsh move, making you yelp before you wrapped your legs around him, he kissed you like he never had before, all teeth, and no mercy, passionate yet still gentle in somefucking way.

He pivoted while trying to get to his bedroom, making you chuckle into the kiss, pining you against the wall, and it was all so desperate and messy. And just so you.

You wanted to discard your dress but he wanted to rip it off, wanted to grab onto your flesh, and feel you, completely. Drink you in.

He stumbled inside his room, knocking over a few boxes, and sending them over to the other side of his room. Not that either of you cared enough to break the kiss, at least until Eddie plopped you down on the bed, a grin overtaking his lips at the sight of you.

“You’re so pretty, so fucking beautiful and just—” He took a deep breath, words were failing him, his entire being captivated by you.

His mind was spiraling, cheeks almost a salmon pink. Eddie had sex countless times before, but none of them meant anything. None of them left him this speechless, none of them made him nervous. It was like his first time, the way his breath got caught in his throat, cock stirring at how pretty you looked, stomach fluttering at how he was on top of you.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this. How long I’ve wanted you… How perfect you really are.” He towered above you, and your breaths mingled, bodies tied, chests pressed against one another.

You wanted to joke around and tease him like he did with you, but you couldn’t help the flutters in your stomach. All you cared about was whether he thought if all of that was. Did he really see you like that?

“You mean that?” You asked, almost shy, wanting to hide your face, but he just gave you a scoff, like it was the most unbelievable thing ever.

It was to him.

“‘Course I do, Jesus, Pinky I basically worshipped—” He placed a soft kiss on your lips. “The ground you walked on.”

You drew in a breath, “I—I wanted you just as much.”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned.

“Don’t say things like that,” he warned, shaking his head. Did you not know the hold you had on him? Even still? He was wrapped around your finger, always has been. Always would be.

“Don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.”

“Then, don’t, please, Eddie, I want you, more than anything.”

That was all he needed, low grunts escaped his lips. He attacked your lips hungrily, desperately, twirling his tongue with yours, needy and passionate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, hands meeting behind your back to unclasp your dress, and you helped him get rid of his clothes, your fingers fiddling as they struggled to take his shirt over his head.

It was all messy, stupidly impatient, making both of you giggle while you struggled to get rid of the clothes that were keeping both of your bodies away from each other.

“So impatient,” you mocked with a chuckle, enjoying the way his eyes boggled your body, it wasn’t disrespectful, you didn’t feel the intrusion as you did with every other fucking guy you’ve been with. Just pure appreciation and your stomach flipped with excitement.

Fuck, what was he doing to you?

He drew in a breath when your chest rose up and down, he felt like he was watching a ping-pong match, eyes darting over to every part of your body, he wanted to engrave it in his mind. Have you there forever.

He could barely comprehend it, you, stark naked, on his bed. Telling him you wanted him, more than anything. And you looked perfect. Fucking perfect. More than he could ever imagine. All those years he spent thinking about you.

The girls he fucked were always a spitting image of you. It wasn’t a fucking coincidence. He couldn’t get his mind off of you. You made him feel out of his head, and fucking finally, it was happening.

Cold rings ghosted over your chest, making you gasp. “So—” His head dove into your breasts, latching his tongue on one nipple. “Fucking—” His hand dove down to your panties, discarding them without care before he ghosted over your slit, still waiting for some approval from you. “Perfect—” He hummed, against your nipples, making you mewl.

“P—please, Eddie,” you muttered, pathetically.

His eyes shot up at you, amber gaze dark, wanting, needing you to tell him exactly what you needed. “Need you to fuck me, please.”

“Baby,” he rasped, jaw almost hung open with how forward you were being. His cock was trapped in his boxers, needing room with the way words fell like silk from your lips. The nicknames were new, especially something like ‘baby’ but it felt so familiar, like the two of you had always been like this. Like the last five years didn’t exist.

This was all the confirmation he needed, his ringed finger met your entrance, and you whimpered at the slight sensation, your entire body burned with need at his one touch.

His soft lips trailed down from your chest to your belly button, tongue leaving nice strokes on his way to your pussy, making you arch your back in desperation.

“Need more, Eddie,” you whined, a pout apparent on your cheeks.

“That desperate, huh?” He grinned, pad of his thumb still toying with your clit, earning gasps out of you. “Haven’t even done much, yet you’re soakin’ my fingers, baby,” he added, that taunting tone making you roll your eyes.

“Arrogant fuck,” your voice came out as a squeak, making him let out a greedy chuckle.

He inserted a finger inside of you, enjoying the gasps he earned. “You know, I always thought that attitude of yours needed a fix?” He hissed, ringed finger curling inside of you, making you squirm at the coldness as you bucked your hips for more.

You didn’t know what took over you, or him. The dirty talk just rolled out of your lips like it was natural like the two of you had been together for the longest time.

It was all the pining, anticipation, and the pent-up desire. And it was making both of you needier by the second.

“Then do it, fuck it out of me.” A low groan echoed in the bedroom, followed by a string of curses, Eddie’s entire body shuddering with it.

His fingers left your clit, hands working their way to slip out of his boxers, a rough expulsion of moan released from his lips when his cock plopped against his stomach, making your mouth water at the sight.

Shit, fuck, shit.

You gulped, jaw almost wide open, making him cockier if that was even possible. His hands jerked at his cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum collected at his hot tip. “Gonna give this to you, is that what you want, sweetheart?” He taunted.

With a nod, you licked your lips, making his cock twitch in his hands. “I’ll fuck the brat out of you, don’t worry, honey.” His hand was about to stroke his cock again, but you were quick to shake your head.

“Let me help,” you hummed, your smile and attitude all disappearing, a glazed look washed over your features as your soft hands fisted his length.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he groaned roughly when your fingers stroked his rock-hard cock, until he couldn’t take it anymore and pushed you down on the bed and taking you by surprise before his lips re-attached to yours, hands slightly parted your thighs, teeth clashed together, and nibbling on each other's lips, before he finally, finally guided his cock against your entrance.

Then, he stopped, making you furrow your brows when he reached for his bedside table, and you, unable to wait, were quick to stop him. “No!” His attention snapped back to you.

“Please… I wanna feel you, ‘m on the pill,” you murmured, pupils blown wide, making Eddie curse once again before he blabbed, nervousness spilling out of him.

“O—okay,” He hummed, turning to you with a nervous look, “and just so you know I haven’t had—” Shit, he was going to ruin this.

“I was tested not too long ago and me and Chr—”

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god, I will leave, Munson,” you warned, gaze narrowed and jealousy bitter in your veins.

He scoffed, “I was going to say we haven’t done a—anything, you lunatic,” he wanted to joke, but words rolled out of his lips like a quick ramble. He couldn’t fucking ruin this. But, he had to let you know. You had to know that they didn’t sleep together.

And much to his surprise, with a grin on your lips, “Oh? I don’t know if I can say the same with me and Jame—” your joke was quickly shut up by a dizzying kiss, and his groan turned into a growl, filled with jealousy, making you giggle into the kiss.

Both of you were idiots. Total fucking idiots. Insane. Crazy. But, fuck, did it feel right, like dominos falling into place, this is what it should’ve been.

He dragged you more toward the edge of the bed with his rough hands, finally guiding his cock to your entrance, wiping off that grin from your face, hunger taking over fully.

“You think you’re funny?” He spat, and you nodded all sassily, “Laugh it up, doll. But once I’m done with you, you won’t even remember the names of those other douchebags, I’ll fuckin’ make sure of it.” His arrogance was back, and that smirk played on his lips, shutting you up once again.

He pushed into you without a warning, making you cry out while your eyes squeezed shut at how good he felt. Your pussy wrapped his cock nicely, so warm and tight that Eddie had no fucking idea how he didn’t cum right then and there on the spot, a low groan escaped his lips.

He dropped his head to your shoulder, frantic breathing escaped through his nose as he tried to adjust to how tight you were.

Jesus, fucking Christ.

He had to hold himself off.

Your hands clawed at his back, enjoying the stretch while Eddie pushed himself inside of you at a slow pace, reveling in the way you mewled for him.

Eyes already squeezed shut, mouth slightly open, lashes fluttering the more he drove his cock into you. You looked so beautiful. Ethereal.

He was struggling to comprehend if this was all real. This entire fucking night. From the fight to the kiss to now.

It was always back and forth between the two of you, but more real than anything he ever had.

Pinky.

His Pinky.

He loved you, so so much, that his heart was about to explode, his body felt hot from everywhere you were touching him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart,” he hissed, pace picking up once you finally accommodated his size, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Feels s—so good, Eds,” you whimpered. He caught your chin in his hands, tilting your face toward him, making your fuzzy gaze focus on him. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You, wanted you for so long, shit, honey.”

“Tell me…” He muttered, licking the trail to your boobs, sucking on it with a growl. “Tell me that this changes everything. Tell me that we’ll never go back, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve it.”

“E—Eddie,” you stuttered, still struggling to comprehend it when his cock was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed.

“I…” You sucked in a deep breath, mind feeling mushy before Eddie groaned, tucking his hips back, pulling out of your warm pussy as you gasped at the feeling, just as you were about to whine, beg, he rammed himself deep inside of you, again. A grin appeared on his lips when you cried out in pleasure.

Yet, his movements halted, as if he was giving you a taste of what might happen, and you wanted to cuss him out, tell him to never fucking stop again, cry out, beg for him to continue. Your body felt woozy with how much you needed him to fuck you, how much you desperately needed to cum.

“Everything!” You cried out frantically, “E—Eddie, fuck, I d—don’t ever wanna go back, please…”

That was all he needed to hear. And he simply couldn’t wait any longer, deprive his body of you any fucking longer. His movements picked up with a low grunt, fucking into you roughly and fast, all animalistic as he held onto your hips, leaving bruises all over while he worked on your neck, sucking, marking you.

Pleasure bursted through your body as Eddie’s thick cock dragged along your walls. Both of your eyes locked, emotions gathering in them. Panting as your foreheads connected, thinking the same thing.

Those three little words begged to roll out of both of your plushy lips, yet too scared to ever utter them. His lips crashed down on you again, this time, just so that those three words didn’t escape his mouth, kissing you with such passion that your head grew light.

“Pretty girl,” he breathed into your neck, “my pretty girl,” he growled. His cock was driven by a primal need to make you his, every touch meant something, every time he thrust himself into you, it was deliberate, rough, but gentle in some fucking way.

Shallow breaths escaped your mouths in puffs, as you watched him drive his cock all the way into you, and you tightened up almost immediately, your pussy pulsing around him.

He groaned at the sight of you, mouth hung open, tits bouncing up and down, mewls coming out for him. You looked fucking beautiful, babbling to him about how you were going to cum soon.

He pressed his middle finger to your clit, drawing quick circles as you whined for him, he was fucking good, and you could feel your walls swelling as you yelled out his name.

Your screams were muffled by Eddie’s lips as a wave of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks and the second you came undone on his cock, he fucking lost it. His groans grew guttural as he spilled his load inside of you, falling on top of you with a contented sigh as he made sure every drop of him was stuffed into your walls.

Ragged breaths filled the room as Eddie slumped next to you, and you stared at the walls, a smile curved on your lips when the drawings you gave him were still there.

“You still have that?”

“Of course.” His fingertips traced a delicate path along the canvas of your skin, gentle, and warm, pulling away that strand of hair that was hiding your pretty features, a smile formed on his lips, his gaze on you so soft that you almost melted into him. “I told you… your art matters, it’s the very reason, I am where I am.”

As his words hung in the air, you looked up at him, and he gazed down at you. In that shared gaze, both of you knew. No words were exchanged, yet the depth of your connection bridged any gap.

Three words. Eight letters.

You should say it, you should tell him first. Let him know, that you love him, always have, always will. Your lips, poised in anticipation, hovered let him now, to utter those words.

But he interrupted, a subtle pull drawing you closer into the cocoon of his embrace. “W—We should go to sleep… hell of a day ahead of us.” He cleared his throat, fingertips weaved through the strands of your hair, caressing it.

A day ahead of us. Us. Us. Us.

It’s promising, so fucking promising. Peaceful. Everything you asked for. Yet, it scared you, because it was good. All of it was almost too good to be true.

But you wanted to shut that part of your brain off. No, because you weren’t going to ruin this for yourself again, you weren’t.

You hummed into his chest agreeingly, the vibrations resonating into his chest, his scent enveloped you, fully, completely.

And each gentle stroke of his fingertips through your hair was like a lullaby, making you give yourself into the security of his presence. It only took a handful of caresses for you to give into the sweet desire of sleep, nestled against his warmth.

You woke up next to a void spot in the bed. The morning sun burst through the lazily taped windows of Eddie's room, forcing you to squint against its intrusive rays.

A languid groan escaped your lips as you reluctantly left the warmth of the bed, lazily throwing on one of Eddie’s shirts as it hung well over your knees, making your way to the kitchen as you called out for him.

Silence greeted you.

You checked the fridge, hoping for a note, a hastily scribbled message, anything that might explain why he was gone.

But nothing.

At this point, your mind hadn't erupted into full-blown panic; there was no reason for it, or let your intrusive thoughts kick in, no, they were wrong, they had to be wrong.

There was no way he’d leave you, he wanted this himself. He invited you over.

And the two of you were supposed to go to the rehearsal dinner early. To help Jonathan and Nancy out. There was no way he’d just leave you like this.

Right?

Or maybe he regretted all of it and left in a panic.

You kept telling yourself the same lie until seconds melted into minutes, and eventually into hours.

And then, it finally dawned on you.

Eddie didn’t leave a note because he didn’t want to see you.

He regretted everything.

That's why he left you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #getaway car series

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kitspindles · 1 year

Text

I’m in no way bashing on people who have already finished TSatS and say they hate it, are disappointed, etc., because I myself have not gone past chapter seven. My friend let me read some today, but I won’t have my own copy until Thursday, so maybe my opinions will change. I will say, however, that if you read 400+ pages in less than a day, maybe give yourself some time to process the entire plot first?

In any case, I can’t help but wonder how many people went into this book expecting one version of Nico and Will, only to be hit with something else entirely. And I mean like... expecting the fandom’s versions of these two, rather than what canon has previously shown us up until this book.

It’s my personal opinion that the PJO fandom’s worse enemy is their own mischaracterization of the characters at times. And I don’t mean like little head canons and stuff. Everyone has done those at some point. There’s usually no harm in those. I’m talking about people who created their own versions of Nico and Will and have been running with these visions for years through different fan fictions and what-not online.

For years we’ve known basically nothing about Will aside from the fact that he’s sarcastic, likes Star Wars, his mom is a country singer, he can glow in the dark, and he’s better at healing than fighting. (And he has questionable fashion choice at times). Like, that’s all we’ve had since his initial introduction in The Last Olympian over a decade ago. Everything else? Online and fan speculation. And again, there is nothing wrong with that! I just feel like a lot of people went into this book holding onto their own pre-conceived visions of what Will Solace was and ended up disappointed the authors made him... different? But not really different, because he didn’t have a lot of in-depth personality or backstory before this.

Me personally? Yeah, I’m not that far into the book yet but I’m loving how Will is portrayed so far. He’s still sarcastic, but he’s shown his fair share of level-headedness as well as frustrations just within the first couple chapters. He is in no way the overly-optimistic sunshine-y boy who only exists to help Nico that the fandom has portrayed him to be all these years. His character arc is already headed in a way deeper direction (more on that when I finish the book). The whole bit where Will had coffee spilled on him and spent the next couple paragraphs in the scene trying to be unbothered while actually giving off “This is fine” fire dog energies? I loved that.

As for Nico, can I just say I adore how he’s written in this book? Aside from his PoV in Blood of Olympus, this is the first time he’s had his own narration. And it’s actually about him and more in-depth than previous times. I’ve heard people say that he’s “out of character,” and while I can see a little of what they’re all saying, I just want to know... what version of Nico have you all been reading? Did I miss something?

Up until this book, what exactly did we know about Nico? That he’s displaced in time, his sister and mother are both dead (and he feels alone), he harbored repressed gay feelings from his upbringing as a Catholic guy in 1940s Italy, and he’s been through the ringer more than once (so, trauma, basically). Oh, and he’s a bit of a nerd (Mythomagic and knowing all kinds of ancient creatures). That’s... about it. Everything has been speculation and projection from fans.

In previous books he’s always been portrayed from first- or third-person point of view (usually from people who don’t know him well and just think he’s “creepy”), leading to the idea that he’s distant and low-empathy based on some interactions he’s had with demigods who weren’t thrilled to be around him, during a time of great pressure. But he’s not exactly uncaring. He’s been shown to care a lot, actually (Bianca, Hestia, Bob, everything he’s done for Percy, his friendship with Reyna, Hazel, etc.)

But what about when he was ten? He was an excitable, curious kid who liked to have fun. And what did we see briefly in Trials of Apollo (before Jason died, at least)? We saw some of that energy return, particularly in The Hidden Oracle.

So, yeah, I’m personally thrilled to see him making cringe-y jokes and have some self-deprecating humor. It’s very “#OnBrand” for a traumatized teenager who’s just trying to cope and live life without any godly wars forcing him this way and that. Can we really say it’s “out of character” if we’ve never seen more than one side of Nico? (The under pressure side, from other character’s PoVs, in books not about him where he’s basically been a side character?) I’m just glad to see him cracking jokes, laughing, and acting more like a normal kid.

Now, is this book different from Rick’s other ones? Uh, yeah. I won’t say it’s not. But it’s not bad. It’s supposed to be different. It has slightly different intentions than the other books (re: explicitly working through trauma and relationship bumps). Also, it’s co-written. Co-written books always read slightly off from the original author’s work, but dam if it isn’t hard to meld writing styles and copy another author’s particular voice. But I think Mark did a very good job at imitating Rick’s style (again, from what I’ve read so far).

Will I change my mind on all this the farther I get into the book? Maybe. There’s a lot to read and take in. All I’m saying is don’t let the negative reviews warp your opinion of the book if you haven’t read it yet and are on the fence if you should or not. Wait for the PDF to drop, or for a library copy, and read and see for yourself.

#nico di angelo #will solace #the sun and the star #tsats #tsats preview #tsats predictions #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #rick riordan #mark oshiro #rrverse #riordanverse #riordan universe #Read Riordan #my stuff

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icallhimjoey · 5 months

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AAHH my favorite bitch back at it again! This will be a 5 chapter fic, correct? Because we best make him the FILTHIEST of martinis that makes him drop to his knees and kiss the floor we spill drinks on walk on. He better recognize we are more than just cute 😤😤😤

well, best we can do is TRY, isn't it? And that is, if Martin will let us... Wordcount: 3.7K

---

Mistaken, Not Stirred

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Surprise, surprise. Look who's back again. For the, what, fifth time this week, is it?”

“That’s... that’s no way to speak to a customer.”

You let your mouth smile so hard, it made your sarcastic eyes disappear entirely.

“What can I get you?”

“Oh, that’s all right, I think...” Joe started, and Martin reached to place a drink down on the bar where Joe would usually sit. Joe pointed at it for you to see, like you were dumb to even suggest you had to take his order. “I’ve already got one waiting. But thank you. Next time.”

Disrespectful idiot.

You didn’t like Joe.

You did. You liked Joe a lot. But you didn't like him, you know?

It had been a few weeks of this now, and the comments had become more and more biting. Always said with smiles – ones that didn’t reach your eyes, nor his. Never mean or actually bitter, but there was definitely a “you suck at this job you stupid cow” vibe coming from him, and a “you come here too often you sad sack of shit” vibe coming from you.

It made Martin bite away sly smirks and swallow his obvious laughter when he witnessed you interact with each other.

You just didn’t like how Joe seemed to act like he was above you in this bar, even though he didn’t even work there. Only vaguely knew the manager. Came in a couple nights a week, mostly by himself because he didn’t have any friends.

You didn’t know if that was true, but who the fuck spends hours in a bar by himself if they have actual friends to hang out with, you know? Man was a loner. A real loser.

Shame he looked so good. And shame that it always made your heart beat faster when you saw him walk in every couple of days. You’d tell it, fucking knock it off with the palpitations, I don’t have time for this shit, he called us inadequate, you stupid bitch.

Cute too, sure. He had called you cute as well. It was why he made you blush just by looking at you.

But he’d wished Martin good luck with that one and he obviously had meant you. So you didn’t like Joe. Even though you did. And even though he’d been right.

Because Martin really did need good luck with this one, you thought, mentally pointing a fat thumb at yourself. Martin hadn’t called you inadequate to your face, yet, but… the message was clear.

No one else got told to just go sit and to closely watch what he did. See how he made drinks. Learn from what you could observe.

Martin had said it all politely, but had grabbed onto you by the shoulders and steered you around the bar without any hesitation. Gestured at the barstools there and… you were a little dumbfounded at first.

“Just... so I just sit…? And watch?”

“It’s a little too busy to have so many bodies behind the bar.”

You were in everyone’s way a lot, is what he meant.

James had shoved you aside more than once and had dropped a bottle of sticky syrup when he bumped into you. Somehow that was your fault. You’d been standing in a spot you weren’t meant to be standing, because apparently you had to by now be able to anticipate his every next step all night long.

You sat down closest to Martin’s station.

Decided if you were going to be tasked to watch and learn, you might as well watch and learn from the best.

It had been three days since you’d been called cute by a stranger and three days of trying to mix the perfect dirty martini.

And it really shouldn’t be so difficult. You knew the steps. You knew what went into the glass. You could do everything exactly the same as Martin would do it, but somehow, you thought it always didn’t come out right.

Martin said yours was good. Had tasted the dirty martini you’d mixed before opening just to show him you knew exactly how now, and he’d said, “Yea. Good. So that’s one drink down.”

Only thirteen more to master from the current menu.

And then whatever other random off menu drinks people would ask for. Like frozen cocktails that weren’t on the menu. But there was blender behind the bar, and people would go, “I see you have a blender, can I have this drink, but have it frozen, please?” and Chloé would tell them, of course! And then would have you try your hand at it.

You weren’t sure if she was giving you the orders she knew you were going to fuck up just to mess with you.

But you were kind of fucking everything up, off menu or not, so, probably not. It was likely more an issue of incapability on your end than a malicious thing on hers.

Martin made you sit and watch him, and after a little while, he passed you a little notepad and a pen. It was weird to have someone rest their head on two stacked fists on the bar all night. Taking notes made it look like you were actually doing something. So Martin started giving instructions on what he was doing whenever he could, whenever he felt he had the time to do so, to give you things to write down.

He didn’t have a lot of time to do so, though, so you just started writing down what you saw. Wrote down ingredients. Step by step instructions. Utensils and glassware used.

You had to be quick though.

Martin was fast.

You had to keep eyes on his hands and hope that what you were writing down was still readable after.

In your focus, you hadn’t noticed that someone sat down next to you.

Someone who now had to sit at the long end of the bar, cringe, eyeroll, so very annoying, because you so happened to have taken the seat he’d usually occupy.

Joe sat down and sort of watched you for a little bit. Looked at what you were doing. Puzzled together why you weren’t behind the bar doing your job, or trying to do so at least, and instead hogged his favourite seat.

He saw how you didn’t break eye-contact with Martin’s hands and chuckled to himself when he saw your handwriting.

There was no way you’d be able to decipher that. Didn’t even look like you were writing down words.

He looked on as your pen slipped off the paper and left a mark on the bar.

“Careful, that’s the end of the note right there,” Joe said, condescending, too late to actually be helpful.

You rubbed at it with a finger and quickly got your eyes back on Martin.

You’d missed a step.

Shit.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to pay attention because,” you paused, wrote down what Martin did with some lemon zest.

“Because…” Joe egged you on.

“Because apparently, I can’t mix my cocktails right.”

“Oh,” you heard next to you as you watched Martin finish the drink, followed by, “So, you’re aware?”

Hm?

What the fuck?

You frowned as you looked down at your note and tried to process if what you just heard had been right. Then you slowly looked up, eyes first, then your head followed, and, oh no, this was the guy.

There wasn’t even time to think of a smart comeback quick enough, because the realization immediately made you move onto different things.

“Dirty martini!” you exclaimed, eyes wide, and you immediately got up. Well. You tried to immediately get up. The barstool scraped against the floor loudly, but it didn’t move back far enough, and you got caught between the chair and the bar and it made your tits land on the edge awkwardly before you turned and let your feet find the floor properly.

The whole scuffle of it made the little smile on his face break into an actual laugh.

“Careful,” Joe laughed as he hovered a hand near you that did nothing, all pretend helpful.

But the second you were off the seat, you got instructions to get back on.

“Sit back down.” Martin said, eyes not even on you, and it was stupid how quick you climbed back onto the seat again. It was also stupid how you were legitimately proud of yourself for succeeding at something Martin asked of you.

“This one’s for Joe,” Martin said as he placed the drink he’d just finished right in front of this guy. Joe, you’d just learnt. “But you can get him a dirty martini next if he’ll have one.”

Martin looked at you like you were a child, eyebrows raised up high on his forehead, and then when he turned to Joe, he broke into a grin. It felt like it was a smile that made fun of you a little, but then he said, “Let me know what you think, I need to sort the Christmas menu.” and you hadn’t even considered the menu changing soon.

Fuck.

That meant there were more drinks you were going to have to learn how to make. Things with seasonal ingredients. Things that were more festive. Things that included fire maybe, and you weren’t ready to light yourself on fire. You weren’t ready to see the horrified reflection of your hairdresser in the mirror as you explained that it was just an accident, and could she please fix it because you had a big New Year’s Eve party to attend soon?

You didn’t get to make Joe his dirty martini that night.

Or the next time he came in.

Or the time after that.

Instead, you got to listen to him wince, hiss and then laugh when you dropped a full tray of drinks over yourself before you could even step around the bar to bring them over to the right table.

Instead, you got to see him hide a giggle when you held a bit of orange peel the wrong way when you squeezed it over a drink, spraying the juice right into your eyes.

Instead, you got to see how he seemed playfully impressed when you bit back at a comment Chloé made about you needing to get out of the way after she bumped her hip into you, and you’d said that it wasn’t your fault she had a fat arse.

When you looked at him though, he’d pretended to be absolutely scandalized. Like he was on her side for it. Like he was about to go, "Are you just going to take that, Chlo?" and egg this on.

When he didn't see you look, you'd seen him smile softly to himself and, you know what, he could actually piss off for real, who did he think he even was in the first place?

You’d apologized to Chloé immediately after, terrified Chloé would be offended, mortified you’d started an actual fight, but you’d seen a flicker of joy across her face, and you had felt comfortable enough to show a little of a smile in return. Felt like the first little bit of acceptance, of you speaking her language, and all it took was a little gas to the fire.

Instead of getting to make Joe a dirty martini, Martin made you do a million other things. He had you take peoples orders, had you learn how to close the bar to make opening easy and efficient the next day, had you prep ingredients the correct way, and had you do mundane shit like cleaning floors, tables, toilets, et cetera, et cetera.

You basically got to do anything but make drinks.

And Joe was the type of person to give you tips from where he was sat. Unwelcome shit. Things like, “Missed a spot here,” when you would wipe down the bar, or, “That table has been waiting for ages,” when you were just about to go over to take their order.

But Joe was a guest, and you were meant to be friendly and polite.

So you’d smile your most inauthentic smile and would tell him thanks in your flattest voice.

It always made him laugh.

Which, in turn, always made Martin smile.

Weird how that worked.

“Good evening,” you’d tell Joe when you’d see him walk in, all exaggerated faux politeness which he easily accepted from you. Before he’d even be able to go and sit down, before the coat was even off, you’d raise your pen to your pad and would ask, “What can I get you?”

And Joe’d just smile, like he couldn’t help the grin, and then he’d nod his head down, scrunch up his nose and point towards the bar before walking over to where he always sat. Where he’d take his coat off and reveal he was wearing a shirt with the first three buttons undone, sometimes even four, showing off literal cleavage. You didn’t need to get him anything. He’d get whatever Martin was already loudly shaking in his shaker.

It felt a little like you were put on the bench. By Martin. By Joe. Like you got to be a part of the football team, but didn’t actually get to play at all.

Didn’t get to take Joe’s order.

Didn’t get to make any drinks.

After a few shifts like that, James took pity on you, and when Martin left him in charge for the rest of the night, he’d given you an order to make.

Fuck yes.

Excellent.

And Joe was there, too!

Maybe if you did this right, James wouldn’t bat an eye if you just started on a dirty martini after, to slide over to Joe and to do what Martin always did. Ask him what he thought of it. Ask him to give a lengthy review which you knew was going to be nice words only, topped off by the satisfaction you’d get from him expecting the worst and then tasting the best.

You wanted to see that face. Feel it in your bones.

The Simon-Cowell-watching-Susan-Boyle-for-the-first-time face.

But then you didn’t do it right, did you?

You poured all liquids into the cocktail shaker and closed it properly, like you’d been shown how, but, you weren’t meant to put all liquids into the shaker, were you?

You were meant to keep the carbonated drink to the side and add that directly to the glass after you’d mixed the rest of it.

You only shook it twice.

Maybe three good, violent times, to really get the ice to rattle.

The cocktail shaker exploded in your hands.

You gasped as the cold drink hit your front, and stood there, frozen as the drink dripped down your face.

You saw Joe very slowly reach and wipe underneath his eye with his middle finger as he rapidly blinked, like a little drop had made it onto his face.

There was no way any of that had gotten onto him, but the fact that he pretended that it did was just as infuriating as it was embarrassing.

James and Chloé stood there frozen also, until James reached for a dishtowel and hit you in the face with it.

“I think maybe Frank needs help,” he had then said after you’d finished cleaning, and were sent upstairs to join Frank by the door.

Not the worst job.

Frank was nice, didn’t mind a break from playing solitaire on his phone for a chat, but... joining Frank by the entrance was the bar equivalent of being put on time out, and Frank knew it too.

When he saw you come into view as you dragged your feet up the stairs to where he was sat, he smiled and said, “What’d you do this time?”

You plonked onto the barstool next to him in the small little hallway and sighed as you leant back against the wall.

“Put fizzy drink into a shaker.”

You bonked your head against the wall behind you, once, twice, three times.

“Shook it.”

Frank huffed a laugh, said, “Nice.” and got back to his game on his phone.

“When do you think I'll get fired?” you asked jokingly.

“Hmm, a week, give or take.” Frank answered, eyes on his phone, and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Nice.”

As the night came to a close, you saw people out along with Frank. Opened the door for them. Wished them a lovely rest of their night.

Just when you thought you might as well go down to help James and Chloé with closing, the both of them came up the stairs, talking, laughing, both in their coats already.

“Hey, what’s...” you faltered, confused. There was no way they’d actually finished already.

“We’ve done most, you’ll be fine finishing up, yea?” Chloé asked. It wasn’t a question for you to answer though. She was already standing outside when James tried to give you some last instructions.

“Use the key in the cash register, leave it in the letterbox after locking up.”

You just looked at him. Blinked a few times, because, were you allowed to do this on your own? Would Martin be okay with you closing the place by yourself?

“You got this!” James smiled, and you knew it was just that he was happy to be fucking off early for once.

When the heavy door fell shut behind them, you stared at it a second before you huffed a humourless laugh.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I still got half an hour on my clock,” Frank said after checking. “Do you need any help?”

You considered it for a moment.

“That's kind of you, but... I actually don’t, thanks.”

You didn’t.

Martin had practically let you close on your own before. He’d just been sat at the bar whilst you worked around him, big grey folder opened and pen in hand, doing whatever admin needed doing.

“Join them. Have a... somewhat early night.”

It was late.

“You sure? Can’t place blame with me for anything if I’m not around.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.”

You said goodbye to Frank, closed the door behind him and sighed.

Fine.

This was fine. You could close by yourself. Lock up by yourself. You’d be there for opening the next day anyway, so if you were to leave anything undone, you’d be able to pick up where you left off, stepping on your own toes, no one else’s.

You made your way back down the stairs.

Around the corner.

Past the toilets.

Down the dark hallway.

Into the bar, where... there was loud music playing. Loud music.

When you stepped inside, you were fully expecting to be alone but then realised: you'd not said goodbye to Joe yet.

And there he was.

Behind the bar.

Hands near the sound system, like he was trying to figure out how to use it. The song skipped to the next one, and Joe clapped his hands together once before he held both arms out wide as he spun around.

Teeth bitten into his lip, he made eye-contact with you near the entrance and... danced. Did a stupid hip and shoulder shake to the beat before he clapped in his hands again.

You frowned, loudly shouted, “Guests aren’t allowed behind the bar!” as you made you way over.

Joe completely ignored you. Got really into his old-man-at-wedding dance as he lipsynced along, all playful, all goofy.

When you were close enough, he grabbed a wet dishcloth and was about to throw it over. He waited for you to hold you hands up, to get ready to catch it, but you just said, “Yea, great, the tables probably still need doing, thanks.” as you slapped him on the shoulder, passing behind him to get to work behind the bar.

Not before you changed the song to something you liked, asserting power over Joe, because you worked here. Not Joe.

He could treat this place like a second home all he wanted.

You were closing the bar, so you got to choose the music.

And you expected to turn back around and see Joe get into his coat, dishcloth abandoned on the side.

You expected an overdone smile, a snarky comment, a mocking smile with narrowed eyes as he’d insincerely wish you good luck.

You expected to have to go and look to see if Joe paid for this drinks.

You expected he probably hadn’t, because by now you’d clocked in on this weird agreement Martin and Joe had, but you were going to make him pay regardless.

What you weren’t expecting was to turn back around and to see Joe bent over a table, hips wiggling as he wiped it down, focussing on a seemingly extra sticky bit, mouth pouted and brow furrowed.

Oh shit.

You didn’t like how that worked something in the pit of your stomach.

You also didn’t like how you watched Joe clean a few tables and then saw him catch you staring.

You snapped out of it and pretended you dropped something, just so you could duck down behind the bar for a second.

When you got back up, Joe had moved on to do more tables, and you were glad that he ignored the staring. He could’ve absolutely made a sassy comment to embarrass you, but he’d chosen peace over violence tonight, so it seemed.

Dirty martini.

Yes.

A filthy one.

You could make him a dirty martini as a silent thank you, because there was not a chance you were going to say those words aloud.

Just make one and then leave it out on the bar for him to find as you cleaned up behind the bar so you could pretend you didn’t even care if he liked it or not. Be all casual about it.

But then Joe looked up at you again, and a small smile grew into a wider one and there was no way he wasn’t going to slag you off for something, so you abandoned all plans and just... went for it. Asked him in an almost challenging way, no smile to be detected, with eyebrows slightly raised,

“Dirty martini?”

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #mistaken not stirred

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adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 12.5: Max and His Stamina

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: Lando is a pain and Max takes everyone apart because of it

Warnings: sexual things ahead, very little description os said sexual things because y'all can use your imagination, definate Dom/sub things going on, rope, a lot of rope,

Notes: I wrote this with the intention of shamless smut, and then I ended up with this. I actually really enjoyed just writing the interactions between all five of them.

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Masterlist

"This is you're fault Lando."

"Is not!"

"It definitely is."

"Pretty sure we wouldn't be here if you didn't antagonize Max."

"Is Max normally like this?"

"Only with Lando. We're innocent bystanders."

Having one person tied to each bed post is not how they envisioned ending their day. Max is nowhere is sight, and they've been waiting for him in nothing but undergarments for at least twenty minutes.

Three of them had no clue what they'd done wrong. Sure, Max had won another rave, but he'd very clearly said 'punishment' in his text after the race.

Lando had done a stupid thing a whispered in Max's ear while walking past one of his interviews. He'd yet to fess up what he'd said.

Charles is sitting with only one hand tied to the post because he'd done the other three. The other hand still has his phone to communicate with Max.

Consent is still important even if he's not in the room. And he was mildly worried that the female was going to panic that she'd done something wrong.

Oscar had only watched them do things like this and joined in a couple of times when he felt like he understood what was going on. One thing he learned early on is that Lando doesn't do what he's told unless he's in the mood to comply, and Max has less patience for that.

Charles is incredibly patient and can handle Lando. It's always shocking when Oscar sees him piss off the Dutch instead.

Oscar doesn't know where he falls yet. He's been going with the flow of things, and despite being the youngest, he quite likes telling people what to do.

"Os, Max wants me to go over rules with you while me wait." Says the Monegasque who is sitting comfortably with his knees bent.

Oscar shifts his gaze from the Brit to him. This looks much nicer than the one Lando had been receiving. "Didn't we already do this?"

"Yes, but he's being cautious."

"It's because of the Daniel incident." Says the female with no hesitation. She'd told him about it on their way to meet up at Max's hotel room a while back. They'd invited him in on something intimate for the first time, and she thought it best he knew.

They'd had discussions about everything prior. A few times, at least. But when he actually joined the first time, Max was incredibly hesitant. But he understood why and didn't take it as an insult.

"Safe words?" Charles quizzes him.

"Green for good. Yellow for slow. Red for stop." It's simple and universal for all of them. "No choking unless it's light for Charles and Lando. Don't put Y/N on her knees. Also, keep ties loose unless it's Lando. Make sure Lando communicates because otherwise, he'll let himself get hurt..." he thinks for a moment if he's missing anything.

"Anything you want to add to the list for yourself?" Asks the female.

"I've learned I don't like being hit or choked or things like that." He confesses. He's watched Charles and Lando get hit a couple of times and spanking is fun to give less fun to recieve.

"I'll add it to the list and make sure Max know as well."

They communicate so well like this. There is no shame and no secrets here.

"Lando, what did you whisper to Max to put him in a mood?" He asks. Both out of curiosity and for future reference.

"Possibly something about him not being able to take all four of us." Lando gives Oscar a cheeky smile. The other three collectively role their eyes.

"So we're here because Max has a point to prove." Charles shakes his head.

"You're not even completely tied up!" Complains the Brit.

"Max will do the other hand when he gets here, relax."

The girl pulls her knees to her chest. Her look is a bit distant, but not in an incredibly concerning way. “Max is on his way up.”

“Why do you look scared, chéri?”

She shrugs at the question. “Don’t want him to be mad.”

“Luckily for you, I think he’s only frustrated with Lando. He’s doing this as his podium celebration.” Explains Charles. She nods her head in understanding and relaxes a bit.

They hear the door unlock and Max leans in the opening of the of the room. He can perfectly see all four of them. “Everyone alright?”

Despite three saying yes, Charles begins to list off everything they’d talked about. “Os has the rules memorized now, Lando is still being petty, I couldn’t get my other hand done and needed to text you anyway, and y/n thinks you might be mad at her so reassurance is in order.”

Max makes his way over to them and gently takes Charles’ other hand. He uses the leftover rope to secure his once free hand. When he’s done he plants a kiss on Charlie’s head. “Thank you.”

Charles looks at Lando and eyes him smugly.

“So here’s what I’m thinking.” Max crosses his arms and stands at the foot of the bed. “I’m going to start with one of you, then add another, then a third, then Lando.”

“Why am I last?!”

Max shoots a glare at the Brit causing him to shut his mouth. “Because you started this. I could not let you off the rope at all.” Lando casts his eyes downward. Being last is better then nothing.

Max steps next to the female and unties Charles’ knots. He gently tugs them away from then kisses her wrists. “You’re not in trouble and I’m not mad at you.” Max pulls her into him and runs his finger across the bare spots on her body.

She sighs in content. Her body leans into him more just from the contact. Max could spend hours just memorizing her body, but he won’t torcher her. She’s done nothing wrong so there’s no need for it.

He’s got her finishing with just his tongue. The other three boys are now squirming.

Shockingly, Max goes for Oscar next. He unties his wrists and kisses them.

“Maxy, did I do something wrong?” Charles asks. It’s not whining, just confusion lacing his voice.

“Not at all, I just want things to be even, and you have been tied as long.” Max winks at him, and Charles nods in understanding.

"Perfectly honest, I have no idea what we're doing." Oscar trying to look confident but failing miserably. It doesn't help that Max is both tall and broad.

"Letting me take care of you."

Oscar hates it when his knees get weak. But he loves it when Max and Y/N are pulling him apart. Even more so as he gets to reciprocate.

To say that Charles and Lando are struggling would be an understatment. There is much more squirming then there was before.

Soon, Max is repeating his actions. Albeit more sweaty this time.

Charles had done his time and now is having his ropes untied and wrists kissed.

Charles definitely knows what he's doing as he's all over Max the second his hands are free. Charles is much more exploitative with his tongue than the rest. An advantage he uses over the other four.

It's not long until Max is picking him apart as well.

When four are heavily panting and all of them are shocked that Max is going to go another round. He eyes Lando with a cheeky smile. "Have you learned your lesson?"

Lando looks like he might cry if he doesn't have any physical contact in the next thirty seconds. He's begging Max to let him go.

When Max feels satisfied, he repeats his actions a fourth and final time. His kisses the Brit's wrists where he had been rubbing them against the rope.

Max takes his sweet time undoing Lando. His patience is immense. He's showing him just how good he takes all for them. It's meticulous, really.

Max almost collapses after everything. He didn't even know he could go for so long.

Charles disappears from the main room and comes back with towels for everyone. He passes them around and then helps Max move into something more comfortable. Practically putting on clothes for him, them covering him with a blanket. It takes thirty seconds until they can hear him snoring.

Charles sighs and shakes his head. "I hope you're proud of yourself, Lan."

Lando is still on the floor, catching his breath. He gives a thumbs up to show that he is, in fact, very proud.

Charles knows the routine and makes sure his three younger counterparts are taken care of. The female doing the same for him after she's done in the bathroom.

She hates it, but they'd learned their lesson after her first UTI.

Oscar and Lando are curled up next to Max. They leave no room on the bed for the other two.

"Max should start booking his own hotel rooms." She whispers over to Charles. "Maybe then we'll have a bigger bed."

Charles just laughs and drags her to the couch. It's not ideal, but it works.

Soon, the five are asleep. Much to the displeasure of a certain tall Australian who'd been trying to get a hold of any of them.

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jagibee · 1 year

Text

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 3

2,855 Words

A/N: New Chap let’s gooooo! As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated and lmk what y’all think!💞

…

Well. This was unexpected.

You were prepared to deal with the excitement of working closely with members of an internationally well-known band and all that that would entail. Really, you had finally made peace with that.

But. Stray Kids.

What the hell.

Your brain was flooding and the only thing keeping you afloat was Kwang-sun’s voice sounding once again from the front of the room.

“I will give you ten minutes to look over your clients’ files and then you will meet up with their respective managers. I look forward to working with you all.”

And with that, he left.

The two clipboard people, however, remained standing where they had been for the entirety of the day, aside from what you assumed to be their lunch break. Your feet hurt just by looking at them.

You turned back to the table. Each of the other caretakers were looking through their files and they seemed to make mental notes.

While looking at them, you began to wonder why each person was assigned to each group. It wasn’t by gender and it couldn’t have been by age because while Jae was the oldest and got assigned TWICE, Stray Kids was the second oldest band in those five and you were the youngest of the caretakers.

After a couple minutes of drifting off into those thoughts, you realized that you should probably look at the file.

Opening it, you saw the first page showing a profile of the oldest three members.

BANG CHAN - Alpha

SCENT - Eucalyptus

RUT NOTES - very possessive, sometimes aggressively so, good to have at least two members with him at all times but not Lee Know and Changbin at the same time or he will get aggressively anxious about the young ones, likes to wear things scented by all the members, prefers to stay in his dorm, will eat a lot

LEE KNOW - Alpha

SCENT - Caramel

RUT NOTES - doesn’t like wearing clothes so keep him in the dorm with no surprise visitors, likes to mark up anyone but especially the younger members, not particularly possessive but more aggressive than usual when members don’t do as he says

CHANGBIN - Alpha

SCENT - Cooking spices

RUT NOTES - gets especially bad headaches, likes to cuddle with the omegas and betas, will eat a lot, likes other members to wear his clothes

All of this information looked rather typical to you, so you turned the page to see the next members.

HYUNJIN - Omega

SCENT - Coffee

HEAT NOTES - gets especially bad cramps, keep a lot of heating pads and warm water packs in dorm, not particularly protective of nests, will usually nest in common room and everyone is welcome in

HAN - Beta

SCENT - Chocolate

SLIP NOTES - sense of smell increases, likes clinging to the members, will mimic nesting

FELIX - Omega

SCENT - Lemon dessert

HEAT NOTES - very protective of his nests, will only build them in his room and no one is allowed in until he invites them, likes to cling to alphas outside of the nest

You frowned at the use of the word “mimic” in Han’s profile. Even if he wasn’t an omega, nesting was nesting and if it made him feel better, what did it matter?

You shook your head. As long as it’s just in a random file that won’t even tell you all of the details, it can’t cause that much harm, right?

You turned the page again.

SEUNGMIN - Beta

SCENT - Mint

SLIP NOTES - doesn’t like touching people or interacting

Well now that was almost too much information, you thought sarcastically.

I.N - Alpha

SCENT - Toast

RUT NOTES - doesn’t have regular ruts yet, they are seemingly random and unexpected, is particularly possessive over Felix and Seungmin, will get aggressive if anyone else gets too close

Before you could think any more deeply about the profiles, Jisu from earlier entered and brought three others with her.

She smiled before addressing everyone. “Hello, my name is Jisu, you might remember me from before. My colleagues and I are here to escort you to your meetings with your band’s managers. Jae, Ha-Eun will take you,” she gestured to a short alpha woman, “Saira, Ja-Young will take you,” this time, a curvy beta stepped forward, “Millie, Jung will take you,” now it was a tall beta man. Then she turned to smile at you and you noticed her cat-like eyes for the first time. “Y/N and Justin will be with me.”

You each gathered up your file and the rest of your things before following your guides out of the room.

The clipboard people came out as well and followed you, Jisu, and Justin.

Oh god, they don’t think I’m a threat, do they? You shook the thought from your head. I am probably one of the least threatening people in this building. They could just drop me off in a random room and I would be helpless because I wouldn’t know my way out of the building.

You walked for about five minutes before you came to a stop before a door and Jisu told Justin that his meeting was in that room. He went inside and one of the clipboard people, the beta, followed him in.

Then, Jisu turned to look at you with her cat eyes, looking you up and down before turning around and strutting away. “This way, Y/N!”

You scrambled to follow her, the clipboard person keeping you in between the two of them.

When you had gotten close to Jisu and settled at her pace, you turned to the clipboard person. “Hi, sorry, what’s your name?”

He looked startled. “My name is Chang-ho.”

You smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you. What do you do?”

He blinked a couple times, then looked at Jisu and back at you. “I usually help the screening process for new hires.”

You frowned a bit. “Am I still being screened?”

Before you could hear his answer, Jisu whipped around and smiled at you. “Here is the room you will be meeting your band’s manager, Y/N. I hope you will fit well in our company. It would be nice to see you again.” Her cat eyes gleamed as you passed her, in a way that was both unsettling and slightly attractive.

Entering the room, you saw a large desk with one nice leather chair behind it and three much less comfy-looking chairs in front. Choosing the middle of the three seats, you watched as Chang-ho grabbed the left one and dragged it to the back of the room before settling in.

You were about to ask him what he meant earlier about the screening process but you were interrupted by a new presence.

The man had an average height and build and had what you could tell was an expensive haircut. He wore special extra-strength scent blockers so you didn’t know his secondary gender. Nothing really stood out about him, but he had a nice smile.

“Hello, Y/N, my name is Cho Ha-Joon, manager of Stray Kids. I look forward to working with you.”

After exchanging pleasantries, you both sat down and he pulled out a similar file to the one you still had. “So,” he started, “any immediate concerns about what your job will be entailing?”

You remembered what the file had said and decided your first priority. “Do you really not have a specialized nesting space?”

Ha-Joon’s eyebrows furrowed. “The omegas nest in their rooms or in the dorm’s common room. Is there really a need for something more?”

You hummed thoughtfully before responding. “Yes, I think there is, especially because in the Stray Kids dorm arrangements, the two omegas are kept separate. I think it would be more beneficial for them to have a combined space.”

Just then, the door opened. Expecting Jisu again or maybe another clipboard person, you sat patiently until Ha-Joon could respond.

Then Bang Chan walked in.

“Hello, Ha-Joon, I just wanted to let you know-”

He cut himself off when he caught sight of you, just releasing a breathy “oh”.

He was wearing a slightly askew beanie with a few curls poking out along with a black sweatshirt and black basketball shorts. Classic Chan outfit, you thought. And then your brain promptly shut down.

After a few seconds of just staring at each other, Chan seemed to snap out of it, and cleared his throat. “I am so sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t know that there was a meeting going on.”

Ha-Joon just waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, it would be nice to have you anyway. Are you busy?”

Chan shook his head. “Ah, no I was actually coming here to tell you that the boys are heading home a bit early. They were a bit excited about the new caretaker and couldn’t focus so Lino got fed up and ended practice.” The entire time he spoke, he kept glancing back at you. “I was just going to head to my studio and get some work done but if you want me here, I’ll gladly stay.”

Ha-Joon nodded. “Of course! Speaking of the new caretaker…”

You stood up and bowed quickly. “Hello, my name is Y/N and I will be the new caretaker for your band. I look forward to working with you!”

You mentally patted yourself on the back for not going into cardiac arrest.

Chan smiled and bowed back at you. “Hello, I’m Chan and I look forward to working with you as well.”

You tore your eyes from his right dimple when Ha-Joon cleared his throat. “What were we talking about again?”

The three of you sat down, Chan taking the remaining seat at your side.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, thankful that Chan was also wearing heavy duty scent blockers. If you were able to smell him, you might have fainted.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you tried your best to recall the earlier conversation. “We were talking about a combined space for the omegas to nest.”

“Ah, yes.” Ha-joon nodded. Then he turned to Chan. “Let me know if you have any input on behalf of your members, alright?” At Chan’s nod, he started up again. “We were planning on changing the dorm arrangements, one with the four alphas and one with the betas and omegas. We would buy a new space in order to give you your own room with the omega and beta group. The boys would have to move, but they will get used to it.”

Out the corner of your eye, you could see Chan’s head tilt in confusion. Did he not know about the plan to change the living arrangements?

You frowned. “While that could work, I truly think it would be more beneficial to leave the boys in the dorms as they are and allow me to rent my own space. Acquiring a caretaker is already a big change, I don’t want to force them into anything more. Plus, I think having my own apartment would be beneficial not only for myself, but for the band as well. That way, no one feels like they’re being smothered by me, they can come and go as they choose if they need me or just want to get away, and I would like my own space for my heats until I feel comfortable enough with the band. Also, while most caretakers do tend to focus on omegas, it’s important to not prioritize one’s mental health over another’s based on their secondary gender. I hope that each and every member of Stray Kids will feel comfortable coming to me when they need to.”

You could feel Chan’s gaze on you, but tried to ignore it in favor of being taken seriously.

When Ha-Joon seemed to be considering it, Chan stepped in. “I also think the boys would prefer keeping the living arrangements as they are. We move between each dorm so freely anyway, there would really be no point in making a huge deal by moving. Plus, I like Y/N’s idea of a shared omega space. Felix and Hyunjin like to nest together but it’s a bit of a hassle to move all the right blankets and pillows and stuffed animals from one dorm to the other when they want to.”

Fuck. Your name sounds good in his voice.

Double fuck. He’s supporting your thoughts and putting his band mates first.

How were you supposed to work with this guy when everything he does makes you want to eat him?

Nervously fidgeting with the edge of your own scent blockers, you hoped that despite the lesser quality, no one would be able to smell how much you were mentally drooling. Thankfully, it was company policy to provide the heavy duty scent blockers for employees that worked closely with idols, so hopefully you would be receiving some soon.

After a few moments of deliberation, Ha-Joon looked down at his papers and wrote something down. “You both bring up good points. I’ll talk to Kwang-sun and see if we can decide what the best course of action is.”

Looking back up at you, he said, “Y/N, it was great meeting you but I’m afraid we’ve run out of time. Here is my card, and please email me if you have any questions.”

Taking the card he offered, you stood up and bowed at him. “Thank you so much for everything, I look forward to working with you!”

Turning to Chan, you felt your breath hitch.

He stood up as well, and you both bowed at each other before he clasped one of your hands with both of his. “I’m really excited to get to know you, Y/N, and so are the rest of the boys.”

Trying not to melt, you did your best to respond. “Yes, I can’t wait to meet them! I really hope you’ll all like me.”

His smile honestly could have blinded you. “I know we will! It was great talking to you, see you tomorrow!”

Tomorrow? You were seeing him again tomorrow? Did that include the rest of the boys as well?

Just then, Jisu walked in. She looked a bit surprised at Chan’s presence, but she recovered quickly, smiling at you. “The car is waiting to take you back to your hotel, Y/N. Are you ready?”

Saying your final goodbyes, you followed her back out of the room and down the hall. Realizing that at some point, Chang-ho had left, you decided to ask her about that.

She frowned. “Chang-ho? Oh, yes, he was there monitoring you while Justin was also being watched because we were on the fence about who to assign to which group.”

When you stopped walking, she turned around and looked directly into your eyes. “Both Stray Kids and ITZY wanted you as their first choice, Y/N.”

Wait. What?

Two globally famous bands wanted to hire you as their caretaker? And they chose you themselves instead of the company choosing for them? They specifically wanted you?

At your obvious surprise, Jisu just shrugged and turned back around. “I suppose your resume must have been impressive.”

Instead of going crazy because what the fuck, you decided to focus on one question circling your thoughts. “Okay, so why was I chosen to be assigned to Stray Kids instead of ITZY?”

You could see her press her lips together before she answered. “I don’t know exactly, I wasn’t too involved in the process, but I would guess it’s because you have more credits that they trusted you with more people.”

Another question surfaced. “Wait, I thought you were just here to escort us around and make sure we all got where we needed to be, but you seem to know a lot about this. What exactly is it that you do?”

You could see her eyes flicker over to you before she looked straight ahead again. “I also studied to be a caretaker for a few months when I was younger. But then, I decided I wanted to be more on the business side of things. They have me working as an assistant manager but because of my background, they use me as sort of a liaison between the management and the caretaking departments.”

By now, you had arrived outside and in front of the car. You turned back to Jisu. “I hope we get to spend some more time together then, Jisu.”

Her eyes widened a bit before she smiled. “Yes,” she purred, “I hope we do too.”

By the time you got back to your hotel room and all cleaned up, putting on a loose top and old sweatpants, it was dark out.

You decided to order room service and while you waited for your food, you wrote down everything you could think of that you wanted to talk to the company about.

Finally, you heard a knock on your door.

Since you were expecting room service, you didn’t look through the peephole and just swung the door open abruptly.

The person at your door was not room service.

“Uh,” Chan smiled and gave a tiny wave. “Hi.”

…

A/N: What’s this? An interaction with Chan? And now he’s showing up at your hotel room? Ehhhhhhhh?

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tinydeskwriter · 1 year

Text

CINEMA {prologue}

A/n: This is the prologue of my new little series, that I am unsure yet how long it will be, my ideia is of making the ‘chapters’ like blurbs, I am always open to suggestions, you can send a anonymous ask or massage me privately. For this story, I am breaking up Holivia ahead of the beginning of Love on Tour. In my head Y/n faceclaim is Anya Taylor Joy, so I apologize ahead if in any moment I use some of her physical characteristics, I have been obsessed with the idea of Harry and Anya since they are supposed to be in a project together and both dropped out😔

word count:1664

Don’t Call Me Baby

“Hey Love, what’s up?” Harry asked sweetly.

He had initially thought about ignoring his phone, until he grabbed it to turn it dawn and saw ‘My Love♥️’ on the screen— he never got around to change it after they broke up in 2015, and it wasn’t as if the sentiment had changed, she was still his love—, he untangled himself from Olivia, getting up from the couch and stepping out in the backyard.

Olivia straightened up on the couch, watching Harry walking close by the pool, brows furrowed as he listened to the person on the other end. Of course she knew who it was that her boyfriend was talking to. There was only one other person for whom he reserved all the same nicknames as hers—Y/n. Olivia wasn’t a jealous or insecure woman until she had met the model-turned-actress and watched first hand how Harry and her acted around each other.

She had came to accept after those first interactions with the younger woman and as her own relationship with Harry deepened, that if there was ever a situation where Y/n and her were in the same place, he would always go to Y/n first—it happened a lot on set when Y/n joined the cast in January as Violet, after the originally chosen actress had to leave the project—.

She got a little jealous from time to time. There was something in the way everyone around assumed Y/n and Harry are a couple, how he took Y/n to the Grammy’s instead of her, or how he took the other’s side after the fiasco that had been her interview to the younger podcast back in June—a interview that was supposed to put down the rumors surrounding Florence and her, but after being put in between a interview with a therapist about cheating and a debate about the fake feminism in Hollywood, fueled the fire of the gossips—.

“Tell me what is wrong my love, your sobbing is breaking my heart.” Harry’s accent thickened, and worry was written all around his face.

Olivia pushed herself from the couch, approached the glass door, eyebrows knitted together in curiosity, and as soon as she had asked ‘What’s up’, Harry simply raised his hand to silence her.

“That bastard…”His expression morphed into one of anger. “Are you home?” He immediately went back inside the house. “Do you need me to come over?”

Olivia only raised her eyebrows to her boyfriend’s back. She already knew it wasn’t a question, Harry would be leaving her for Y/n no matter what, and he probably wouldn’t be back until the next day.

It wasn’t the first time.

Harry cut their couple’s trip to Italy short because Miss Model was suffering with anxiety and panic attacks days before showing the first unfinished cut of her debut feature to the Warner Executives.

Olivia’s almost dislike for Y/n came from the care her boyfriend showed the girl. They even fought over it.

Harry just wasn’t the best at communicating, at least with her.

She had no problem with their friendship, except that said friendship always came first, no matter what.

“I am with Liv right now, but I can be at your place in forty minutes.” He said already putting shoes on, his phone between his shoulder and ear. “Fifty-five if I stop by that Italian restaurant to pick up your favorite.”

He stayed silent for a moment, listening to whatever Y/n was saying, a stubborn expression on his handsome face, she knew by the way his eyes quickly went her way that Y/n must have said something about her.

“Love, you never bother, we aren’t doing anything, either way it wouldn’t matter, if you’re not alright, you know I would drop anything.”Harry said too honestly, completely forgetting his girlfriend in earshot.

Olivia was certain she felt he heart shatter.

Harry only seemed to notice her again after Olivia walked in front of him to get to the bedrooms.

“Y/n/n, baby, you’re not okay and I won’t leave you by yourself. I’ll just get my keys, we see each other in a bit, but call if you need anything.” He ended the call before she could protest.

He found Olivia in their shared bedroom, his keys in hand.

“He has been cheating on her…”The man stops in his tracks when he notices his girlfriend going around putting a few of her things in a overnight bag.

“What are you doing?”Harry asks surprised, finally seeming to register that something is of with his girlfriend of almost a year.

“I’am leaving,”She snapped her head at him, emotion visible in her green eyes, “I’ll spend the night with the kids.”

“What’s wrong?” He seemed slightly worried.

“What isn’t?” There was frustration in her words. “You always drop everything for her! It’s always her! Of course no one would believe in our relationship when you act the way you do around her!” The director accused. “I feel like a placeholder, I am here until she wants you again and you go running.”

Olivia was overreacting in his eyes. He didn’t want to leave her for shits and giggles, Y/n was going through a difficult moment, he couldn’t bring himself into leaving her on her own. He had hope that Olivia, as a older and mature woman would understand and not let herself be carried by insecurity.

He felt deja-vu. It was like Camille all over again.

“She just found out she’s been cheated, I can leave her alone at this moment.” Harry tried to explain himself.

“Harry, you’re only here with me after making sure she doesn’t need you first,” Olivia accused him in a calm—if hurt—tone, “she’s your first call after every good news, or when you are sad or in a bad mood. She was your date to the fucking Grammy’s!”

He shook his head.

“You’re not been fair.”

Olivia looked at him, eyes wide open.

“Jeff was right.” She said shaking her head. “He was drunk, probably doesn’t even remember he said it, but he did, Jeffrey said she’s your muse, your first love and the owner of your heart and mind, he then went on: she’s the Sun he orbits around, all the others are stars, what is a mere star when compared to the Sun?” She laughed in disbelief, running a hand through her hair. “Does everybody knows? Was I the only clueless one?”

“You sound crazy.” He said harshly, cursing Jeff in his mind for opening his mouth.

“H, you’re in love with her, can you admit it to yourself?!” Olivia accused him.

“I’m not in love with her!” He said like a bad rehearsed script.

Even to his own ears his words sounded false and without conviction.

“It’s just… We have history, I love her deeply. Seeing her getting hurt, it guts me… it tears me apart. I can’t help it how I feel…”He said truthfully, avoiding his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Harry, do you even hear yourself?” Olivia asked, sitting by the foot of the bed. “Do you even feel this deep about me?”

He knew what she was asking truly: Do you love me?

And the fact that he had to pause to think in itself was already a horrible answer.

He cared about Olivia, deeply, he felt romantically about her, did the feelings compare? No.

It gutted him the simple notion of not having Y/n in his life in whatever capacity. He needed her smile, and her laugh. Those big eyes that looked at him with love and appreciation, that always made him feel worth of something and less like a fraud. The way her hands stoked his hair on his bad days. Or how she always called him My Love with a ‘smiling voice’.

He knew that he was able to live without Liv in his life, it would hurt a little at first, but Y/n would be there as the antidote.

“It’s different. I love you…”

“But you love her more.” She said sarcastically.

“I never compared.” He denied, running his hand through his hair a nervous way. “Baby…”

Harry felt defeated.

“Don’t call me baby…”

Olivia scoffed, feeling dumb, she should have note it the moment she met Y/n. But she was lost in the feeling of new love, feeling young and… free, as cliche as it may sound.

She remember all the times she felt like she was ‘competing’ with the younger woman. It was never a competition.

Its impossible to compete with someone that already won without even being in the competition.

Olivia got up, smiling small, she too felt defeated, but she would, if nothing else, be a gracious loser, even if her heart was being shattered on the way. She swung her bag over her shoulder, kissing his face on the way out.

“You should at least admit it to yourself.” The older women said looking into his eyes.

She was already waiting for him by the door, security must have warned her of his arrival at the gate, wrapped in a silk kimono, she smiled when he got out of the car.

“I am sorry for the delay.” He said carrying the bags with food from out of the car.

“Thank you for coming, my Love.” She said against his t-shirt, hugging his middle.

He grabbed her face with both hands, making her look up to him.

“Nothing would keep me from being with you when you need me, Baby.”

She smiled, and just like that, everything was good again for him.

Y/n stretched out on her tiptoes, giving him a peck on the lips. A act of greeting so customary between them, but that this time made his heart race in his chest.

Olivia’s words fresh in his mind, mixing with the accusations screamed at him by Camille years before.

“Let’s go in, it’s a little chill outside.” She hold his free hand in hers. “Are you staying the night?” Y/n ask looking up to him.

“For as long as you need me.” Harry smiles back.

Next Part

Taglist: @slutforcoffein ; @lilsiz

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x model!reader #harry styles reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!yn

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pinkandgoldensoul · 11 months

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pairing: max verstappen x female!reader genre: friends to lovers, kind of slow burn, angst, fluff and comfort !tw!: swearing, online hate towards reader, insecurities, angst, a tiny suggestive moment other notes: fake instagram things? Loosely based on Japanese GP 2022 word count: 12.3k (feel free to use dividers to split the chapter into chunks! this time they might be needed lol) Sending a lot of love to everyone reblogging, liking and commenting ♥ Hope you enjoy the final chapter!

As rapid steps, cameras, mechanics and chaos surrounded you, silence had enveloped the conversation you had tried to initiate with Daniel. His eyes closely followed Max’s dark silhouette getting further and further away from where the two of you stood, he squeezed them, but in vain, as the Dutchman got out of sight. It didn’t make sense. Max had asked him to hold you back; he had insisted, and Daniel had seen fierce certainty and renewed confidence in him. Could a little discussion with the communication manager throw to the wind all the resolution he had been able to instill in him? «So… Do you need anything?» Your words awoke him from the bamboozled state he had fallen into and made his focus shift onto you. «Uhm, no, I’m good.» he rushed. «Just missed you, I feel like we haven’t seen in a while.» «We last saw each other the morning after the party in Monaco, Dan.» you laughed, embarrassed. «Right. The kinky-party thing.» he nodded at the memory. An uncomfortable silence urged you to get out of the situation as soon as possible, but some McLaren staff got between the two of you at the perfect moment; patting Daniel’s shoulders, they dragged him away from you, in delight for the team’s performance. Watching from a distance, you waved at Daniel, who flashed you with a warm smile. Although his presence had been gone by now, the discomfort didn’t disappear. The uneasiness of the situation, the mechanic interaction that had just occurred, Daniel looking behind you for no reason made you involuntarily turn as well, to check what was there to see: crowd, movement, and Red Bull staff working around Sergio’s car and inside the garage. An immediate nostalgia crawled up your chest, pervasive, spreading like a stain of paint inside a liquid, slowly covering every corner with color, thickness and weight. That deep navy blue, even darker under Singapore’s night sky, pierced through your soul, as Max appeared in your thoughts without notice. You badly needed to confront him, but didn’t know how: was there a way to tackle the topic without unraveling your feelings and putting your heart out, ready for him to stab? There wasn’t any, right? Your phone dinged. As sudden as a sparkle turning into a flame, you were pulled back to the present moment and you took the phone in your hand while mindlessly moving small and slow steps towards the podium, eyes glued to the screen. The mob was just a couple of meters ahead and you could hear the shouts, the cries of happiness and the Mexican anthem being played, all ricocheting onto your oversized Ferrari rain jacket, without touching you. Yet, despite the rain having stopped, you drowned inside the red, unable to think, to talk, to react to the flow of messages, texts, dms and comments popping on the screen, chasing each other, forcing your mouth agape so that they could reach your throat and lungs to clutch them. Small drops of champagne sprayed the air; you didn’t belong that joy, every face was foreign, the upbeat atmosphere roused an uncomfortable sense of anxiety. Humidity, alcohol and angst sticked to your hair, to your mind, hard to wash away despite the scraping. You walked away unnoticed, prey of confusion.

# Max threw himself onto the bed. He had turned down the silent offer of celebrating his teammate’s win; silent, because nobody in the team had dared get close expecting to find him in a good mood after such a race. After such a couple of days. The entire weekend had been a nightmare. Enjoying the calm of his room, he closed his eyes and breathed in, deeply. Upset? Yes. A lot. Was it helpful to be? No. Next weekend, he said to himself. Next weekend will be better. You must move forward. No time for mourning over past mistakes. No focus to spare to it. No energy to do it anyway. Kelly’s words bothered him; he could feel the hate being thrown at him by her supporters and his old, lawful bunch of haters. Nothing better to ask for in such an idyllic media spot. Acting like adults, huh? Taking advantage of the major shitstorm the entire team and him were in so that she could come clean without even trying? Really? Pointing the finger against him and portraying him as the heartless and unloving boyfriend was the only way to announce the breakup? Max didn’t believe she’d stoop so low. For those words he had given up the resolution to go speak to you, maybe even confessing – but no, of course, his assistant had to bring that happy news and the reminder of the endless interviews awaiting him.

Max propped up onto his elbows and rubbed his eyes, then sat. Quickly grabbed the phone from the nightstand.

Too impatient to wait her reply, he adventured in his direct messages and found an awful lot of relationship experts criticizing him for anything, way more than usual; but what really caught his full attention, was your name popping up in some of the texts’ previews. Somehow, Max had never expected you to be targeted as harshly as people would do with him; maybe it was a hope, a conviction born from obliviousness. Disturbed by it, he checked the text he sent. Kelly had read it. No reply, yet. To a degree, Max didn’t expect to act any different. The feelings he had been nurturing for years had been withering by then, and Max couldn’t help but wonder when he had started watering the plant of the relationship he had with you to the point he didn’t even care about Kelly as much as he used to.

# You rushed inside the hotel, in desperate need of sleep and loneliness. Speeding through the hall, though, you were promptly beckoned by the receptionist, who showed up holding an envelope in his hand. «Miss, this is for you.» he handed it to you. «Who’s sending it?» you asked, rather confused. «Uhm, is it not written onto the envelope?» «No…» you said, checking several times. You hadn’t revealed your hotel address to anyone; who would send you a letter anyway? You really had no real friends outside the F1 circus. Plus, an anonymous sender? He made absolutely no sense to you. Maybe the name was written inside the letter… But why hiding it? Could it come from some freak? Could it be… hate, from someone? Perhaps threats? As your fingers tried to sense the words inked inside the paper, a feeling of repulse caught you. Still, you couldn’t get rid of the envelope. The receptionist awkwardly smiled and left you standing alone right before the lift area.

Shutting the door behind you, you scrutinized the envelope once more, lingering onto the calligraphy: it wasn’t embellished, and it was clear whoever wrote had put effort in making it legible. It seemed shaky. Or was it your hands trembling? An unexplainable nervousness rushed through your veins: for sure, you were curious, but dread filled your mind with doubts. You were too scared to read things you weren’t ready to face, you felt too weak, and reckoned you had read enough for the day, as your eyelids longed for sleep. With hurry, you stuffed the letter inside the suitcase; you would deal with it after landing in Japan, putting current events aside and approaching it with a clearer mind. Stripping your clothes off in tiredness, you kept your oversized Ferrari shirt on and laid on the bed, in hope it would shooed all the bad omens, like a dreamcatcher.

It didn’t. You failed to close eye, and you weren’t even surprised. Twisting in the sheets, pulling the cover tighter to your skin, feeling every inch of it caressing your body with its coldness, you spent the night in half-sleep, vigil of unknown dangers and anxieties, thoughts piercing the ceiling with their sharpness. Your fingers tightly gripped the comforter, desperate, because you felt the usual headache coming through the layer of sleepiness. Your eyes fluctuated between an alert state and tiredness pressing the skin down. You checked the phone: 4:57. Awake; you were still awake. It seemed like time passed by painstakingly slow and fast at once. A thud distracted you: did you hear that or was it just a noise you had imagined? First some shuffling, then steady thuds following each other; and suddenly, light. You opened your eyes.

Awake; now you were awake. Had you managed to finally fall asleep for a couple of hours after an entire night? Better later than never. Sun beams cutting through your irises, hands immediately ran to cover them. «Oops, my bad.» Those whispered words stirred your heart with a gentle touch, and the figure shielding you from the unwanted brightness caused you to smile. And then to scream in fear right afterwards. «What are you doing in here!?» Waiting for his answer, you stretched a bit, tiredness marked onto your eyes. «Good morning to you too.» he said laughing. «Well, I think it’s afternoon.» Massaging the forehead, you looked up at him: as a flash, a thought lightened your mind. «The flight.» you sighed, gravity crushing your body towards the mattress. «Yep. I was scared you had left without me, but I’m glad to see I was wrong.» He stepped away, leaving you at the mercy of the sun, causing a few protesting moans. «What time is it?» you asked, rubbing sleepiness off your face. «It is… 1.14.» Max said, looking down at the wristwatch. You jumped into a sitting position. «Did we miss it?!» «It’s not a big deal, y/n. Next one is in one hour and a half, we’re good.» he paused. «But getting out of bed would be a nice start.» Max then added, jokingly. Still, you didn’t even try to move: you knew your arms and legs were against it, and you interpreted the lack of impulse reaching muscles as an unconscious invitation to enjoy the bed’s warmth a little bit more. «Hello? Y/n?» Eyes shut, Max’s voice was a weak call. But soon fingers brushing against your skin and tickling your belly caught you bursting in laughter, your body twitching and nesting into a ball. «No, no, no! Please, Max, stop!» you pleaded, unable to hold laughter. «Need you to stand on your feet, I don’t trust your sleepy ass.» «Okay, okay, I will, but get off of me!» Max silently obliged and laughed as you muttered a “Thank you”. His smile faltered as he followed your hectic movements, fingers tousling your hair, frantically trying to check once again whether your suitcase was good to go and which clothes would be the most comfortable for the six hours of flight. The bright red of your shirt immediately caught Max’s attention: he knew you had watched the race from Ferrari’s garage, and he was annoyingly aware as to why you hadn’t had any other choice. «You slept with that shirt?» Suitcase in your hands, you turned around and saw Max leaning against the wall, arms crossed. «Yes, uhm… I was tired, yesterday.» His unreadable expression awoke a sparkle of awkwardness in you: a tension you should’ve immediately sensed, as it was the first time you two were talking after… The kiss. «Hope you won’t wear it for the flight.» he said, breaking the contact from the wall and getting closer. «Need help with the luggage?» His body towering you didn’t make you at ease. No, better to rephrase it: the comfort you wanted to seek in it was pressing you so deeply you had to stop yourself from refuging in his chest; so you stumbled backwards, dragging the suitcases with you. «No, thanks, I’ve already packed.» you squealed, falling sat onto the bed. «Okay.» Finding his own presence completely unnecessary, Max slowly walked towards the door, throwing a little smile to you. «I’ll wait for you in the hall.» As the lock clicked, you sighed and fell flat onto the comforter. You felt drained already, both by the awkwardness of the conversation and the sleepless night.

You stared outside the window. A flight had never seemed you so long. You’d been having an upset stomach for around fourty minutes and the only thing you were able to do was keeping swallowing, breathing harshly with shut eyelids, praying it would magically go away. Clearly, that didn’t work out. Max had noticed you had gone quiet: he would casually glance at you, one earphone in, scrolling down your phone – maybe watching tiktoks? He had no idea, but you seemed focused, in a way – as he was exchanging a few words either with GP, Christian or his manager Raymond Vermeulen. He knew you were trying to isolate yourself because sitting with such people made you feel an outsider or an unwanted guest, especially after the latest events, but at the same time people from the team had got accustomed to your presence and, since Max liked having you on board, they had never told you off as they did in Singapore. That had been the first time, and Max had made it really clear for it to be the only one.

Getting off the plane, the ground felt like a swamp under your feet, an instable puddle to your waving head. «I’m so hungry!» Max said, getting a laugh from the entire group. «I mean, it’s almost 7 p.m., how about we drop things at the hotel and then we have dinner somewhere fancy?» someone from the team suggested. «I vote that!» Max pointed. «And who’s doing the unpacking?» Raymond asked. «C’mon, mate, you have two more days to do that!» Sergio suddenly jumped into the conversation. The voices cut off as you entered one of the black vans awaiting all of you. You sure felt nauseous, and cramps assaulted your stomach at the same time. Could it be your period? You quickly checked the tracking app on your phone since you didn’t trust your memory but, well, it just confirmed it couldn’t be it. You’d had just a tiny snack throughout the flight… How could it mess you up that much? «Let’s go!» Max said as he got in the van, upbeat, breaking your trail of thought.

The door was closed. Is it? You checked it. Yes, it was shut. Turning around, you bumped into the suitcase. You stretched your arms out to prevent its fall, almost losing balance. Throwing a quick glance to the windows, you noticed a huge building across the street, right opposite to the hotel, and you could almost see people filling each apartment as small bees inside a beehive. Could they see you? Was it dangerous to leave the blinds open? It was getting dark regardless, so it was only a good idea to shut them off… Keys. Where did you put them? Onto the bedside table. Okay. Okay? Not really.

WHAT A BITCH

Did you bring with you the medicine from Monaco? Maybe you had something for the-

she’s not worthy tbh

No, you forgot them at home.

Such a loser

The thermometer. The one that would know everything about you. You had forgot it too.

Ngl, she looks stupid

You gagged. Before you could realize it, you found yourself running to the bathroom and kneeling in front of the toilet.

Whore.

Poorly trying to tie your hair, you gripped the toilet seat waiting for the pit in your stomach to bring out all your anxiety.

homewrecker… remember Kelly is better than you’ll ever be

Nothing but spit came out of your mouth.

fr who the fuck is this chick

You tried to rest your head onto the back of your hand; all the comments you had read during the flight had been spiraling and twirling in your mind relentlessly, playing all over again, to the point you couldn’t even- «Y/n?» A knock.

Hope she doesn’t believe max could ever be in love with someone like her

Instead of an answer or, rather, the incoherent and frustrated scream you wanted to let out, your head was drawn back down, as you threw up. «Y/n?» Max didn’t like to abuse having the key to your hotel room as well; you knew and had never complained about it, after all. Standing before the door, not receiving a reply, he reluctantly unlocked it with his pass and slightly opened it, willing to ask for permission first. The gagging noises he heard coming from inside were enough to kill any hesitation. «Hey, are you alright?!» Max moved slow steps at first, not really sure he had heard right. Then he saw you bent over the toilet; and he sprinted over, lowered down and was about to hold your hair for you, but you smooth it out with your fingers as you sensed the wave had passed. «What’s wrong, is it something you ate?» he immediately asked, trying to figure out the problem. «No, don’t think so.» you whispered, eyes closed. A few seconds of shared silence followed. «Is it over?» Max asked with a low tone, rubbing your back a little. You carefully nodded. «Let’s get cleaned up, then.» He tried to guide your movements, opened the tap for you, kept a hand lingering on your side just to feel you near, since your expression was so distant and emotionless. He wanted to do something for you, but you were acting as he wasn’t there, as you weren’t there. «I came to ask if you wanted to join us for dinner.» he bitterly smiled, still facing the mirror. «I’m sorry, Max… It seems like I can’t get over being ill.» you said, dropping eyes to the sink. «It’s okay, it’s not your fault. It just… sucks.» Hands resting onto your arms, Max unconsciously rubbed your skin with his thumb. He wanted to spend time with you. And you could never be present. «I know.» you whispered. And he couldn’t always stay by your side because of his schedule. Max felt you slipping away from his grasp and turned his head to watch you sit down onto your bed, scooting towards the head board, crunching your legs a little. «I can save you some food for later? We can eat it together once I get back-» «Thanks, Max, but I think I’m going to rest a little.» No. «Uhm, okay then.» Max ran out of words. He got out, slowly shut the door behind him. No. The sheer distance separating you was a wrong to the moments you had shared and lived. Max couldn’t bear it: there was no way you both could go over the intimacy, over kissing each other, without addressing the elephant in the room. No words, no thoughts, no discussion, no feelings. He needed to talk it all out in order to clear his mind, understand things with you, and do it together, see you unveiling your piece of heart, guiding him through an unexpected path. Instead, nothing.

Tuesday was a lazy day. You had woken up over the sheets, like Max had left you. Still confused, you grabbed your phone, abandoned on the covers since the night before.

Max, two hours prior. You sighed, your arm falling back onto the pillow, next to your face. He’d sent you a picture of an empty seat in front of him, probably coming from the newly built hospitality. Still caught staring at the photo, you were taken aback as the screen turned darker and the phone started ringing in your hand. Charles was… facetiming you? «Hello?» you said, immediately embarrassed about your voice coming out hoarse. «Y/n! Hi!» he chirped. «Are you… are you still in bed?» «Uhm, yeah…» you cleared your throat, trying to get into a sitting position. «I think I’m still ill. Don’t feel good.» «Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.» Charles’ brows followed his words. «Do you still have a cold?» «No, I feel sick. Not much of an appetite.» you sadly smiled. «I… I see.» You saw the Monegasque briefly disappearing from the screen, as some indistinct chatter filled your room. Before you could make out a “Let me say hi to her!” in the background, Carlos bright face was already greeting you on the screen. «Hola, y/n!» «Hello, Carlos.» you chuckled. «What happened to the royal couple?» «Uh?» your eyelashes batted in confusion. «You and Max. I saw him down the paddock, all alone… Did something happen between you two?» «Carlos, she’s ill.» Charles argued, laughing at the blunt curiosity of his teammate. «Is it true?» the Spaniard surprised eyes piercing the screen. You simply nodded. «Hope it isn’t a crappy excuse to stay away from him.» «And away from us.» Charles jumped in. «I’m still waiting for the hot chocolate I won last time.» «Guys…» you passed a hand onto your face, deeply inhaling. «I’ll do everything to get better as soon as possible, ‘cause I don’t like being ill myself. It isn’t because I want to avoid people, you know.» «Of course we know, y/n, we were just messing with you.» Charles quickly said with a quieter tone, willing to reassure you. «So… the royal couple is doing good?» Carlos tried once again. «Why do you keep calling us like that?» you asked, exasperated but amused at the same time by his silliness. «Because you’re the most famous couple out there at the moment, paparazzi seem to love you together as much as you love each other.» «Carlos, I think that’s enough damage for today.» Charles gently pushed him out of the way, still laughing. «Sorry, y/n, I’ll text you later!» «Thanks for calling!» you said, your voice cracking. He simply smiled as he lowered the phone, muttered a small “Bye” and closed the call. You were left with sudden emptiness. The thought of Max still lingered around your mind, danced intertwined with a bittersweet taste.

Sluggish, you had decided to get advantage of the restaurant service offered by the hotel for lunch, since it was too late to have breakfast anyway; you had told yourself you had to put a bit of effort, trying to fight the nausea and having a meal after long hours of nothing. As you searched in advance for some handkerchiefs into the unpacked suitcase, an envelope resurfaced from the bottom: it was the letter you had been given back in Singapore. The one you were so scared to open. Carlos’ words about journalists still writing articles about you and publishing old pictures nobody had been interested in so far made you even more nervous than you already were. Maybe more stressed out about it than the necessary. However, the lack of sender stopped you from tearing the paper off and read the content. Who would do that? You checked the clock: it was way too early for lunch. Sitting down the edge of the bed, you turned around the envelope, then opened it with a sharp, determined gesture. You were quite shocked to see it was handwritten; more so, after you started making sense of the first words.

Dear Y/n, I don’t know if you’ll ever receive this letter, but in case you do, don’t answer back: this is the reason why there’s no sender - and of course, so that you wouldn’t throw the letter in the trash can. Please don’t reply, as I don’t want your mother to know I’m writing to you. She’s ill, she’s been dealing with burnout for a while and had to quit her job because of it. She had never told you, but this is why we had to sell the house, since my pay wasn’t enough for the two of us and, clearly, we couldn’t afford having a daughter. When you heard us saying you were a mistake, we meant it was a mistake having given birth to someone we couldn’t take care of. You deserved more and I think leaving you was the right choice, since you’ve found people who manage to do a better job at maintaining you than your mother and I ever could. Never thought I’d see you on the news, though… By the way, this is how I discovered your hotel address; may it be right. Just try to stay out of troubles, okay? I don’t know if you’re still working and are economically independent, but I hope so, because relying too much on wealthy people makes you vulnerable. You aren’t trying to get into this guy’s entourage just for money, are you? Since you left, your mother has been getting better. We’ve also done a small trip to Italy to help her relax and recover as well. She may be able to get back to work soon. You see, I think parting ways was the best decision for all of us. We’re all benefiting from staying away from each other and, ultimately, I believe things should stay as they are. Good luck,

Your father

Breathless, your eyes traced the last two words over and over again, almost consuming the paper with the staring. Your lungs burned in need of oxygen; gasping, tears gently made their appearance, willing to cross your cheeks and wet the letter. Your heart sunk deep into the chest, torn between contrasting emotions, unsure whether to swell in fury or shrink in sadness. The hand which held the letter lost strength and rested on your lap, uncapable of sustaining the weight of disappointment, rage, inner turmoil and desperation. A part of you was stuck wondering what could have possibly provoked your mother’s burnout, but the louder voice you heard screaming and screeching inside didn’t make sense of your father’s words. The best decision for all? Was it what they both thought? Were they really that much better off without you? To the point your mother had improved her health? To the point he was bold enough to say it was a win-win situation, something everybody was gaining benefit from? The unnecessary hint about your unclear intentions with Max had your nausea to peek through: how could he think so lowly of you, how could he even feel good suggesting you how to lead your life after he had deliberately decided to have nothing to do with it? The mere fact he had wrote a ridiculous letter got you standing up and pacing in frustration inside the room, sobbing, hands tugging your hair. It didn’t make sense. They had said they wanted to fully disappear from your life, without leaving a trace; such an unwelcomed, unfortunate and senseless act confused you and put you through a pain even bigger than the one you were already experiencing because of the entire situation. The abandonment was suddenly covered by a coat of insincere fraud you’d never be able to scratch away. Halting the hurry, your legs crumbled and you sat down the bed, once again. At the thought of having lunch as you had intended to do, your stomach clenched tight, shut, refusing to oblige. Tears would’ve only made your meal salty and bitter.

«And… Stop! Good job, Max, we’re done!» Thank God, he immediately thought, releasing the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. The umpteenth content of the week had been recorded and was ready to be thrown to the lions’ crowd, so that they could chew on it until next race, endlessly ruminating and always hungry for more. How hateful. To be honest, he didn’t know how he had been able to cope with it for so many years; for sure, the activities weren’t as demanding back at the time, nor he was a soon-to-be two-times World Champion. The number of activities had been piling up and increasing so sharply that not even being devoted to winning could completely eclipse it. Well, not really something he was able to fix anyway. The contract spoke clear. «I need a drink.» Max said getting up, earning a laughter from the crew. «I’m serious.» he insisted, searching for someone’s eyes to get his point across. His manager scratched the back of his own neck, aware there wasn’t a chance to get away without confronting with Max’s request. «Tomorrow we have the press conference… I don’t want you to be shit-faced, clear?» «Who’s getting shit-faced?» Pierre’s thick accent was immediately followed his amused tone, tailgated by Yuki and his laugh. «Do you guys want to have a drink?» Max caught the opportunity to have the Alpha Tauri drivers on board so that it would be harder to stop three people from loosen up a bit, after a day wholly dedicated to PR events and activities. «Oh, good idea! Yuki can drive us around, right?» Pierre accepted with enthusiasm. With a smug smirk blooming onto the lips, Max turned again toward his manager. «Checkmate.» «Remember about tomorrow’s schedule…» Raymond sighed, helpless. «Like I could ever forget!» Max sneered.

The three of them had crossed Suzuka’s evening lights under the clouded streets and had reached a karaoke building with room service as well. Before they knew it, they had ordered and ate a decent amount of sushi and filled the small room with awful singing, at least from Pierre and Yuki’s side. Of course, Max had categorically refused to join, despite the protests from the two teammates. Dim lights, fingers wrapped around the drink, legs manspreaded onto the small couch, Max felt his mind slipping away and travelling to distant memories. Closing his eyes, your features appeared before him, softly dancing in the clouds of his mind, getting closer with a vaporous grace. Your scent, the heat of your palpitating skin, the blinding sweetness of your smile intoxicated him as he took another sip of his drink, willing to keep hallucinating such a fantasized presence. As some sort of summoning, a spell, he felt skin touching his lap; looking over, a hand was resting on it, feather-like. It was you, he was convinced; he longed for that contact, he cherished that string connecting the both of you in such hectic days. The warmth of the fingers seemingly rubbing over his lap felt like cradling; Max swallowed hard and tilted his head back, taking in that piece of heaven alcohol was offering him. Feeding the forbidden, the sudden touch provoked and unraveled inappropriate and unrealistic hopes: as a tantalizing movie was beginning to play in his mind, Max almost gasped when it got interrupted by a voice. «Bro, he’s gone!» Laughter pulled Max’s head into its natural position, bringing him back to reality after getting lost in the dream of you. He quickly realized Pierre was sitting way too close to him… and that the hand moving onto his leg was the Frenchman trying to awake him from the trance. «You okay, mate?» It was no soulmate connection. «Y-yeah, just tired.» Pierre raised a knowing brow, reading into Max’s dilatated pupils and slightly reddened cheeks a reaction which spoke for itself. «I think it’s time to go back to the hotel.» Yuki said, checking the time onto his phone. «Yeah, we already had fun.» Pierre replied, keeping eye contact with Max as he got up the leather couch. Thinking he would’ve spent even a more amazing night if only you wouldn’t have been locked in your room because of sickness, Max downed at once what was left of the drink. He checked once again his phone, searching for a reply to the text he had sent you amid the photoshoot.

For a split second, the impulse of running to you and finally satiate his wants crossed his mind, but Yuki and Pierre’s silhouettes exiting the karaoke room urged him to do the same without an afterthought.

# The comforter was full of crumbs. Laid down, you had spent the day staring at the ceiling, at the walls, at the long curtain draping the room. You’d had no energy to do much else. After a while, finally feeling a bit hungry, you had eaten some crackers painstakingly slow, not totally sure whether your body would accept them. Surprisingly, it did; and you had fallen asleep with the plastic wrapper still in your hand, until you woke up as the sun was radiating the last beams. Bored and tired, you took your phone from the nightstand. Surprised to see a text from Charles, you quickly opened the chat.

You sadly smiled to yourself.

You froze. The dried tears on your skin awoke and called for new, fresh, hot ones to run again down your face. You had seen them arguing, but Charles had reassured you, saying it was part of being a couple. You had bought into his words and the dream love you had believed to be true broke like shattered crystal, in pieces.

You smiled through watery eyes. In a matter of seconds, Charles had been able to flip you open as a book, read your uneasiness with the media situation and cure it with vulnerability, trust, support. All things your father and your mother hadn’t managed to do in years. You hid your face before your wrists, weeping and sobbing like a kid, amazed by the amount of love you’ve been receiving after leaving what you had always called “family”.

You didn’t even wait for him to text back; you simply let it fall on the bed, as your body did, and got close to the pillow, crushing it with the weight of disappointment in your parents, inadequacy for friendships you didn’t feel like deserving and the desire of a simple, undercover relationship with the person you missed the most as you laid down the bed, cold and lonely.

«And keep looking out the window… Perfect!» Max gazed at the dark clouds covering the city, while considering the weather conditions he would find during the weekend. It wasn’t going to be an easy race. «Okay, Max, now we have to head back to the hotel.» Raymond said, looking down his phone, checking the planner. Max, still staring out the window, furrowed his brows with a couple of seconds of delay. «Didn’t you tell me we had another PR activity right after?» he asked, doubting his own memory. Raymond hesitated a bit. «Yes, Max, we do have a PR thing in there.» «Thing? Is it that bad you don’t even want to tell me?» Max joked, taking off the jacket he had worn for the photo shoot. «No, it shouldn’t be anything too odd.» the manager replied, eyes still down to the screen. «So? What is it?» the driver insisted. «You’ll see when we get there.» Raymond forced a smile.

Max was clueless. He kept throwing glances at his manager, who stood tensed alongside him, and wondered what on earth could make him so nervous at the mere thought. Reaching the landing, Max saw some Red Bull stuff talking and joking in front of the door of one of team’s rooms, bringing in lighting and cameras. Max was clueless, utterly clueless, as he crossed the threshold, seeing Kelly chatting with people from the communication management. He abruptly stopped, clearly expecting anything but her. At the point, Kelly noticed his presence, turned around and politely put on a practiced smile, approaching him. Beyond confused, Max searched for his manager’s eyes. «Raymond, what is this?» The man couldn’t help but stutter, prompting Alice Hedworth to give some explanation. «Kelly contacted us and told she was sorry for the problems her Instagram story involuntarily caused and kindly offered to help putting an end to the… controversy of the breakup creating some “redeeming” content, so to speak.» Alice answered. «I had already booked the tickets for Suzuka, so I thought it would’ve been a good idea to get the most out of them and mend a difficult media situation for all of you, and especially for y/n.» Kelly jumped in. «By the way, I hope she hasn’t taken the comments too bad.» she went on, addressing Max with those words and presenting them with a pained expression. The entire room going silent, everyone waited his reaction filled with tension and anticipation, hanging off his lips. «Okay. What do I have to do?» he said, indifferent. «Uhm, first let’s get you changed, Max…» Raymond exchanged a surprised look with Alice, both surprised by the lack of protests or rebuke, after witnessing his reaction only a week earlier to your “ban” from the paddock.

Exiting the lift back from lunch, you had been taken aback to see such a movement and noise coming from the floor plan; specifically, you noticed a door being flung open by someone from the Red Bull team, entering the room next to it in search of some equipment and immediately turning back inside. Moved by curiosity, you slowly made your way to the doorstep and peeked in. You stood still. Turned your back to the door, got closer to the stairway. You moved in slow, syncopated steps, then picking up the pace a bit, you sped down the stairs, reached the floor below and even made it to the other lower landing, but then fell crouched, gripping the handrail with all your might, twirling down. You hid the silent screams with the palm of your hand, uncapable of holding your tears back. Everything, you had withstood anything: being separated by Max, not being able to spend time with him as you laid sick onto your bed, reading any type of torturing comment about you, cursing a letter you would’ve preferred not to be sent and playing miserable reruns of how your family wrecked and ripped. You had tolerated it all. All, but seeing Kelly nestling against Max and hugging him after they had broken up.

«Which one do you prefer? In this one your smile shows up a bit more, right?» «Uhm, they seem all alike.» «Please, help me choose one!» «Post the one you like the most, I don’t care.» Kelly raised her head to follow Max’s movements across the room with an annoyed expression. «You should care about this post, Max.» «That’s right. I care about the things you promised you would write in that post, not about the picture.» he pointed out, as he sat onto a small armchair. Kelly sighed and for a couple of minutes the only sound they both could hear was the typing onto the phone. «Done. Are you happy now?» she said, sitting on the bed, facing him. «You should be the one who’s happy, since you nicely created this PR stunt.» «This isn’t a stunt, Max, I really feel sorry for all the damage my story did.» «Well, then cheer! You saved us, congratulations.» he spitted out with sarcasm. «Max, can you please stop being so passive-aggressive?» Kelly snapped likewise. «Sorry.» Max whispered, clearing his throat, looking away. «These… these social media activities are killing me, I can’t put up with them anymore.» «I see.» They stayed silence for while, both lost in thought. «It’s strange I haven’t seen y/n yet, she’s always around you. Where did you hide her?» Kelly laughed. «She’s been sick the last couple days and I’ve been dragged around for media content like a plastic bag. Haven’t seen her since we landed.» Max’s tone didn’t leave space for replies: at a loss of words, Kelly found herself uncapable of being ironic any further about you, noticing how serious, drained and frustrated the situation made him. «I’m sorry, I didn’t know.» she replied, put together. «And like, really, I decided to come here to better the whole thing. I didn’t mean to cause drama in the first place.» «That’s too late, Kelly.» Max said, sinking deep back onto the armchair. «Hope she didn’t dig too much into the comments and everything they wrote…» Kelly sighed, looking out of the window, a hand brushing her arm. Suddenly struck by the meaning of those words, breached for the first time by the world surrounding him, Max set his eyes down on her profile. He hadn’t worried about it, so far. He hadn’t had time to waste on reading other people’s useless and unrequested opinions; he knew the media way too well, he had no need to assess the type of bullshit people would put out. He was used to brushing it off, just get over them easily; however, the thought you could not be as strong, not used to it, not accustomed to such an insisting exposure, didn’t even cross his mind once. And so it was only natural it would storm with force and rain down on him like a cold shower, looming over him all at the same time. Your unreadable face on the plane, your thumb casually scrolling hate; your silence. Max enriched the picture with new dark tones he had just discovered, not really sure to like them. He followed Kelly’s eyes, scrutinizing the foggy sky, in search of inner peace.

You stumbled as you kept walking downstairs, hand raised to hide your mouth and hold your tears. You couldn’t believe it. He had chosen her. After everything that happened between the two of them, between the two of you, he still chose her. How could you blame him? How could you blame her? But it wasn’t them choosing one another, was it? Maybe it was… you being rejected again? You halted your escape once again, unable to run away as you had intended. That couldn’t be the end of it all. No, that couldn’t be. You panicked at the thought: where would you go? Whose life would you ruin next? Which new guilt would you have to bear? In a sudden and scattered motion, you sprinted towards the hall, exiting the hotel in search of air, sighing and sobbing uncontrollably. Your ears rang, they rang, you were dizzy; the sound of pain stunned you, your cries were deaf hits echoing through the empty case of an indifferent world. A new ring added on top of it: your phone, a faded notification penetrating your bubble of sadness.

You cried harder. Hand sweeping tears away from your cheeks, you try to type a reply.

You could see them. You could see all the pictures taken while you entered the paddock, walking miserably, unable to stand and get your shit together, entering Ferrari’s hospitality. Despite being upset by what you had just witnessed, you were able to tell it wasn’t a good idea.

Charles didn’t think much of it. He simply imagined you wanted him to pick you up and walk together back to the paddock; after all, it was your first time in Suzuka, so maybe you were scared to get lost. But then he saw you standing a ten of meters away from the hotel entrance, and he sensed right away something was off. He heard a loud sob, making you crunch forward, as you started walking towards him. Every step you took closer to him, Charles’ heart sank deeper and deeper into his chest. He immediately met your wandering hands, trying to soothe their frantic despair, and gripped them tight as your face pointed to the ground, unconsciously drawing your entire weight towards the same direction. He called your name, either to express his regret, encourage you or ask what was wrong, but you didn’t even pay attention to him; you seemed deaf to any call. Charles, painfully reminded of the last time he had pick you up in a similar condition, gently guided you towards the pavement, heading to the nearby hotel the entire Ferrari stuff stayed at.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you blindly dived into the room, letting the flow of tears provoke sighs, without restraints, hands covering your eyes in shame. Charles stood speechless, tracing with his eyes the outline of your back, which was facing him. «Y/n…» he murmured. Seeing how you failed to acknowledge him, he moved a step forward and got closer. «Y/n, come on.» Charles said again, softly touching your shoulder with his fingertips. You turned and he pulled you into a hug, trying not to squeeze you too much. «Is it because you still feel sick?» he asked. You whined in denial, uncapable of articulating a proper answer. «Then it’s Max.» he concluded, more speaking to himself than making a question. Charles pulled you out of the embrace, hands firm onto your shoulders; he wanted to catch some sort of reaction from you, with little result. «Is it… Did you talk about the kiss and he said something bad? You know he can be a bit awkward, you don’t need to stress over it…» «He still loves Kelly.» you said through the tears. «He still loves her.» Voice broken from crying, you covered your face with both hands. «Why do you think that?» he asked, in disbelief. «I saw them, Charles…» you swiped your cheek with the back of the hand. «I saw them hugging, they were smiling… They seemed so happy to be together.» Charles frowned in sorrow hearing your voice crack. «A-after… after all the things that happened, after all the cruelty people have thrown at me… The way Kelly treated me last time we saw and Max not even talking to me…» And the letter. «I… I’ve been in so much pain.» Not louder than a whisper, your words pushed Charles’ fingers to gently lift upwards your afflicted face. «Y/n, look at me, please.» he demanded with a soft resolution. Still sobbing, you obliged and saw him sadly smile. «I knew it wasn’t easy for you.» he whispered, drying a tear with his thumb. «And I know that in this moment is difficult to think clearly, but what if things aren’t as you imagine them to be? You don’t know what the hug was for. Maybe they have decided to stay friends, considering the situation with Kelly’s daughter…» You snorted, interrupting his talk. «Who decide to stay friends with their exes and then starts to hang out with them right after a breakup?» you asked, sarcastic. «Charlotte and I do.» You stared at him, deadpanned, pained once again by his brutal confession. «Y/n, I know it’s hard to believe, especially since you and Max haven’t talked about it, but I’m one hundred percent sure he likes you over Kelly, and I’m not the only one thinking this.» You didn’t reply, but tried to nod, skin still stained with crying. «If you feel bad about it, if you want things to be clear between the two of you, go tell him. Ask him about Kelly, tell him you liked or hated the kiss, be jealous or choose to be understanding, but please have a conversation with him. Either as friends or as a couple, you need to communicate. He should’ve heard the things you told me now and seen you cry.» You pressed your lips together trying to stop yourself from weeping loudly: his words made you feel stupid, coward. What if Charles had never sent you a text? What would you have done? You suddenly realized how deeply you needed to be open and honest with Max, to be close and vulnerable, so that he could heal you as he always did. «Talk to him.» Charles added, resolute. «Please, promise you will talk to him.» You sniffed, slowly smiling at his insistence. «Say something!» he then laughed, finally relieved to see a sparkle of light on your face. «I don’t deserve a friend like you.» you said with unstable voice, hugging him. Charles couldn’t stop a smile. «You’re a good friend as well, y/n.» he replied. «Especially when you offer me one of your divine drinks.» You broke the hug, with a confused expression. «You are really striving for that hot chocolate, aren’t you?» «Of course I am. That’s the only think I’ve been caring about since we made the bet.» Your laughter echoed inside the room.

You felt lucky and blessed by such a precious friendship; but your mind kept comparing Charles’ embrace and reassuring manners with the heavenlike, cradling and calming effect Max had on you and that you terribly missed.

«And so you were able to find a solution?» Daniel asked. «Yes, I mean, we hope it will work.» Max said, putting his phone back in his pocket. «Does y/n know?» «No, I’ve just texted her so that we can talk.» Daniel nodded, full of thoughts. «Right… I assume the mission you entrusted me with last Sunday miserably failed.» Max, who had almost completely forgotten about his unexplained request, looked at Daniel with eyes wide open. «Fuck, I forgot to warn you.» «No worries, I saw you walking away. But… Will she be at the garage this week?» «They told me to wait because they need to check whether the post is calming waters, but I wanted to talk to her as soon as possible.» «Haven’t you done it yet?» the Aussie asked. «Nope, busy with social content all the fucking week.» «Did you meet at all?» Daniel raised his brows, bewildered. «No, this is why I’m waiting for her to reply.» And your timing proved itself perfect, as a notification sound followed his words.

Before Max could react and type a reply, his screen went dark and showed the name of his manager. «What’s up? No, no plans after free practice. What do you mean? Another one?! Didn’t we meet them already? Fuck’s sake… Okay. Right. Bye.» Daniel raised his brows again, implicitly asking Max to explain the situation. «I have to attend a dinner with a sponsor out of town.» he brushed his eyes with his hands. «Fuck.» he exhaled.

«Of course!» Max murmured full of frustration, as he read your text.

Charles dried with a towel his sweating forehead. He was frustrated. Watching over his side, he saw the reason: Max had snatched the pole position away from him for one tenth, and he was now taking off his helmet next to him. Let down for the incredibly small gap separating him from the best result, he couldn’t take his eyes off the Red Bull driver. There was a rush, a concern in his demeanor, something that Charles read between the lines of his body language. He chose to get closer to him and congratulate him with a handshake and a wink, before trying to initiate the conversation with the words on the tip of the tongue. Taken aback, though, Charles listened to Max addressing him right as he approached him. «Had fun with y/n? this morning» the Dutch asked, collecting his gloves in a hurry. «Uh?» «She told me you two had a bet.» Max went on, removing his earphones. «Oh, yeah. Well, the bet was between me and Carlos, but y/n was involved, and she was responsible for my prize.» At those words, Max’s piercing irises fixed upon Charles, with a cold, emotionless stare. He clearly didn’t appreciate your name and a prize mentioned in the same sentence – at least, in someone else’s mouth. You were the best prize life could’ve ever offer him and wasn’t willing to share. After a few seconds of awkward silence, they both started walking down the pitlane. «Anyway, did you talk to her by any chance?» the Monegasque asked, almost chasing Max who was proceeding briskly. «Why are you asking?» Charles wetted his lips, unsure about how to put it right, before speaking up. «I… I really think you guys should talk.» Max stopped in his track and consequently forced Charles to do the same. «And what should we talk about, exactly?» the Red Bull driver asked, half amused and half shocked. «I don’t know… but I’m sure y/n does.» he confidently said, nodding to himself. «Uhm, okay…?» In visible confusion, Max was about to dig deeper into the piece of advice, but they both got called out by some journalists, willing to immortalize the moment with thousands of pictures.

Loitered by interviews, Max tiredly walked up in front of your hotel room, finding it already unlocked: you had agreed on meeting after qualifying and, since there wasn’t a way to predict when that would be, you had promised to leave the door open. As he pushed the it to get in, he was about to greet you calling your name, before he saw you curled up onto the mattress, eyes shut. Max closed the gap with stealthy steps and stared at you, peaceful drifted away. Almost unconsciously, he removed a strand of hair away from your forehead, with a feather-like motion, in order not to wake you up. After hectic days and lack of communication, Max smiled at the thought of silence being the cure: he only needed to have you in sight in order to feel calm, relieved, secure. He laid down next to you onto the bed and carefully engulfed you in a cuddling embrace, enjoying your undisturbed, slow and steady breaths. Max scrolled his phone for a bit, softly rubbing your skin with a thumb; then, suddenly, he felt your body turning onto his, your head now resting over his chest and trapping him down the mattress, with you. Struck by the innocent sweetness of the gesture, his heart smiled of unexpected joy and so did his lips, which left a kiss on your head. And under invitation of the descending sun and the relaxation of the moment, Max fell asleep, hugging you close.

Awakening was slow. You struggled to keep your eyes open, too tangled up into sleeps’ spirals, willing to spend some more minutes in delight. Then a thought hit you. You had to meet Max. As an involuntary reflex, you searched for your phone: Sunday, 9:46 AM. 2 unread messages from him.

Walking towards the door, you stepped onto a piece of paper, producing a shuffling noise: it was your father’s letter. You stood still, then quickly picked it up and stuffed it down inside your pocket.

Deep in thought, you strolled towards the paddock with a lump in your throat: you weren't sure what Max had in store to tell you, but you knew you would probably have to say something as well. As Charles' insisted plead repeatedly played in your head, you wondered what you needed to address first: the kiss you both, deliberately or not, decided to ignore and bury under the rug? The brutality of the comments you had received because of the rumors and how deeply it had affected you, to the point you got sick? Or was it better to denounce the re-found trust and love between him and Kelly, which you had witnessed, asking for an explanation? And what about his silence in the past couple days? You had been silent as well, but what if it was his way to subside the kiss? Did it mean nothing to him? Did you mean nothing to him? A shaken breath, you kept walking. Entering the paddock, you expected some paparazzi to follow you as they had done only a week earlier, but nobody was there to chase you: the focus seemed to be shifted upon the race, for once.

Max's face lit up as he saw you coming towards the hospitality, hands inside your jacket's pockets. Without hesitation, he came towards you and welcomed you with a hug, oblivious to any unwanted attention by journalists and team stuff passing nearby; he had missed having you around way too much to care. You snuggled up into the embrace, finding a crumb of relief from your worries within his safe arms. «Let’s go inside.»

He guided you towards his room at the hospitality, so that you could have some privacy while everybody moved feverishly. It was a small, minimalistic space, barely characterized; the humidity of Suzuka forced you to take off your jacket, as you looked around. You didn't have much to fixate your stare upon, so you quickly made eye contact with Max, who was waiting for you to acknowledge him with a vague smile. You tried to match him, but you couldn’t hide the bit of shyness you felt. «What did you want to tell me?» you went straight to the point. «You don’t even ask me to delete the pictures I took of you?» Max teased. You simply rolled your eyes, now your smile being on full display. «No, because I’m curious to listen to what you have to say. I mean, it seemed pretty important.» «Right.» he said. «It is important. But it might be something that you already know…» Your raised brows invited him to finally explain. «I met Kelly, on Thursday.» Time stopped, after these words. Your heart screamed, absolutely reluctant to hear the rest: the beginning preluded to a devastating finale, and your feelings wouldn’t tolerate it. Still, you didn’t interrupt, you didn’t move. You didn’t even blink. «She came here to mend the hate towards the both of us that she involuntarily fueled with her instagram story. So we took some pictures in which we look perfectly at ease and then she posted them, writing that she didn’t mean to shade us and that she dissociate from all the hate.» You almost gaped at him, the tables suddenly turning: as he showed you the pictures, a wave of relief erased part of the worries and pain you had felt, which had proved to be unjustified. «And how could this work?» you asked after staring at the phone for a while. «It’s working because she completely denied the narrative of me being a cheater and now people are starting to feel bad about the two of us being accused and assailed by media.» «A bit too late…» you whispered, diverting gaze. «Better late than never, though.» Max got closer to you and took you by surprise as his hands touched your upper arms. «I should’ve helped you coping with all the comments and the media attention. I didn’t realize it would be overwhelming for you. I’m sorry.» Eyes closed, you shook your head lightly. «It’s not your fault.» «And it certainly isn’t yours, y/n.» Without thinking too much, you got closer and rested your cheek against his chest. Max took the opportunity to wrap your sides, cradling with matching breaths and heartbeats, enjoying the little bubble of re-found proximity.

All the words you had planned to say disappeared in a second: despite not having answered some of the questions crossing your mind, nuzzled against him you felt no need to be told much else. No overthinking could ruin the moment. Caught up in your own world, you both didn’t pay attention to the background laughter and chatter of the hospitality, let alone of steps approaching the room. «Max, we have the- Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt!» The communication manager, Alice, entered the room and backed off right away, tittering. Red cheeks giving away your embarrassment, you looked up to Max, who boldly challenged her with his stare. «Oh, here you are! I wanted to talk to you. Y/n can watch the race from the garage, right?» «Uhm, I didn’t… I haven’t thought about it.» Alice answered. «But the post with Kelly is doing great. We’re fine now.» Max insisted. «I didn’t come here to discuss this.» she sighed. «And I would go for a more cautious approach, but I guess the real core of the rumors is centered around the cost cap, not on the two of you…» «Awesome. I’m coming to the meeting, give me two seconds.» Max said, smiling to her and then over to you. As Alice got away from the doorstep, the atmosphere became more intimate once again. «See you later, then.» you said, a bit dazed. «You can come to the garage a bit earlier, to catch up, you know.» he hesitantly murmured. «Of course!» you squeaked. Both grinning at each other like two idiots, you decided to flee away before the situation would get too awkward; and in doing so, totally lost in hustle, you forgot your jacket in Max’s room. He was too caught up in his thoughts too, and he only noticed it once he came back from the meeting Alice had reminded him of, just before having some lunch together with Daniel. As soon as his eyes fell upon the jacket, he silently laughed to himself, taking a picture of it and sending you a text.

Amused, he picked the jacket up from the bed, in order to place it on his chair instead, but while doing so a piece of paper fell to the ground. Max, naturally curious, took it in his hands, turning it around and scrutinizing it: opening the folders a couple of times, he realized it was a letter. Tempted, he swallowed hard, partly confused by the address, partly aroused by the will to know more. He tried to shrug it off, heading over the exit of the hospitality and walking with the paper hid in his pocket.

«What if… it’s from a secret admirer?» Max rolled his eyes, annoyed by Daniel’s inquiries. «What? Don’t you think she could have one?» «I don’t think this is the case, I’d expect some cheesy stuff like “to my muse” or shit like that.» Max said. «Isn’t there some “your admirer”? A name? Some clues?» Daniel prompted. «Nope, there’s only her address. Hope it’s not some creep or… threats.» At the thought, Max froze. You would tell him if it was something that serious, right? «There’s only one way to know.» «No, Dan, I’m not reading it. I don’t want to invade her privacy-» Daniel immediately took the letter and unfolded it, then put it before Max’s eyes. «You’re welcome.» Max couldn’t help but read, and was left thrown off right away by the weirdly affectionate “Dear y/n” – who would call you like that? – only to open his eyes wide rapidly going through the following lines; he then jumped to the bottom of the page, in need of confirmation, and marked the signature in his retina. Your father. «Is it a love declaration?» Max pictured you reading the letter, feeling disappointed, distraught: why did he decide to reach out to say that type of things? «… Is there anything worse than a love declaration?» His heart dropped: you had kept the pain of those words to yourself for at least a week. Why didn’t you talk to him about it? Why didn’t you confide to him? «Max… Hello?» Daniel shook his hand in front of his face. And then he remembered how unavailable he had been due to all the social media activities and events he had attended throughout the week, and of course, you being sick. «You really don’t blink.» Dan said, almost in admiration. Did you tell it to anybody? Maybe… to Charles? «Yes, 911? My friend isn’t blinking. I need help.» Was it the reason the Monegasque had been weird after qualifying and asked him to talk to you? Did he know? Did you trust Charles more than him? «Hand me the paper at least, so that I can share the PTSD with you.» Or maybe you had simply chosen to keep it silent, pretending the letter had never been sent. But if so, why didn’t you throw it away? «I have to go.» Max left without sparing a glance to Daniel, who simply followed with his eyes, in shock, the silhouette leaving him alone.

You walked towards the paddock as rain started to rain quite hard. Knowing the racetrack would be soaked didn’t put you at ease: Max could bring the championship home, but he needed a clean race – which didn’t seem likely, under your small umbrella. The pitlane already brimmed of life: with small and quick steps you moved through the journalists and engineers to reach the Red Bull garage. As soon as you approached the back of the box, utterly lost and disoriented, Max appeared out of nowhere and pulled you inside his preparation room in a blink. His fire suit down to the waist, he seemed to be already sweating despite the race not having begun yet. Max secured his hands onto the side of your arms, trying to keep you close, hoping you wouldn’t avoid the topic he wanted to tackle. «So… how’s the hostage doing?» you broke the ice, jokingly. Max lowered his gaze, turned his head to a little armchair and quickly grabbed the jacket which was over it. But before handing it to you, he slowly took the letter out of its pocket, staring deep into your eyes. His pained expression told you more than he could explain. You weren’t even mad at him reading it; sadness hovered over you, and it was your time to lower gaze. The mechanics working on the car only a couple of meters away was the perfect background for the two of you silently exchanging pain, closing eyes, searching for each other’s hands with unconsciously mirrored movements and merging in a hug, as you always did, putting boundaries aside and caring about nothing else but one another. After a piece of eternity, you ended up forehead against forehead, a bridge for your thoughts. Eyes still shut, Max was the first one to talk. «I don’t care about what he says, and neither should you.» he said, above a whisper. «I’ll be your family, y/n. You can lean on me, and I promise I’ll keep you safe and loved.» A lonely tear fell down your cheek. «You’ve been my only family since the beginning, Max.» His thumb immediately ran to swipe the liquid sadness away from your skin, bringing your faces closer and closer. «And I’ll still be. I’m not leaving you.» Your hearts, your eyes, your bodies, your breaths became one, as Max spoke once again. «I love you.» Your lips met, soft: it wasn’t a rushed kiss, but a chaste one, the lingering seal of his promise. Almost waking up from a deep sleep, you batted your eyelashes multiple times, trying to see clearer into the blue of his irises. In his arms, you magically realized blood couldn’t tie you tighter to anyone more than love could. Everything, anything you’d ever needed and craved stood before you. Words were missing to your racing thoughts; you desperately tried to reply, to put into a coherent sentence the mix of affection and emotion pouring in your heart, but didn’t manage. Instead, someone knocked onto the door of the room, calling for Max. The bubble plopped away, and the pressure, the expectations, the thrill for the race weighed down on you. Before Max could lower the knob, both your hands gripping his wrist and halting him, you shyly left a peck on his lips. «Good luck, Max.» you whispered. He grinned, fueled by a newly experienced happiness, and he carried you out of the room with him, holding hands, ready to face anything.

The rain falling incessant over the track echoed in your ears like a buzz. The delay in the start procedure only made you more nervous that you would already have been, bringing you almost to biting your nails. You tried not to directly look at Max, hoping he wouldn’t get affected by your stressed-out appearance; you only watched him from the monitors hung up the wall of the garage, casually showing at times things happening just a few meters away, and prayed for time to put an end to your restless waiting.

He crossed the line. Your eyes flicked to the second and the third positions, now showed onto the screen, monitoring the gap. You had spent the last fourty minutes mentally counting and checking what Max needed to do in order to be champion, and everything was in Charles and Checo’s hands. The cameras flied to capture the corners of truth: a move, only one single move in the entire race, would award the championship. And it came: you heard movement in the bleachers, echoing through your headphones, and saw the bright red Ferrari car going wide, letting Sergio’s Red Bull pass through. A realization setting in, the screams inside the garage, the mechanics running towards the pitlane to cheer Max, to greet their two-times champion of the world. You ran outside the box, still dazed. Little drops of rain pierced their way into your skin, hair and clothes: Japan was giving you its warmest goodbye with a clouded sky and a threatening thunderstorm. Such a lovely end to your week. You felt a joy impossible to put into words: the sun was shining beneath your skin, it made you glow and smile, it was warming your heart despite the cold air brushing your hair. Max was your sun. You saw it sparkling in his eyes, framed by the helmet, when he got out of the car. His stare a beam radiating colors, happiness, life to such a grey day.

The screams were definitely making Max deaf, but your discreet silence stood out to him way more than the cheers; your flushed cheeks, your eyes squeezed to leave space for a breath-taking smile drew him to you, they untangled him quickly from the pats and the hugs of the team. Getting closer to you, he removed the helmet and the balaclava; without thinking twice, you wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him in excitement. He didn’t react, he let you be the unleashed one. He didn’t match your uncontrolled energy, but as you backed off to stare at him, he took the chance to steal your lips with a deep, passionate, genuine kiss, while some of the mechanics whistled at the scene. Feeling yourself being lift a bit by his embrace, you curled your mouth up into a grin, drunk in bliss and love, as your hands still cupped Max’s face. Broken the kiss, your giggles were soon matched with his, the both of you indifferent to the world around you. As Max still held you close, you bit your lower lip in delight. «I love you too, Max.» You didn’t know the sun could burn brighter than it would regularly do, but he proved you otherwise: there was a light, a sparkle, a fire of undying awe inside his irises that no rain could ever extinguish. Your moment got interrupted by Charles patting Max’s shoulder, to congratulate his win – well, double win, considering both the race and the championship. In trance for what had just happened, it took a few seconds for you to realize Sebastian was moving his arm from afar trying to get noticed by you. «Seb, you did amazing! P6! And what a battle!» you said, as you got closer to him. «You both did amazing too.» Sebastian added with a smirk, quickly glancing at Max. «I’m so happy for the both of you.» Filled with gratitude, you couldn’t help but hugging him as a thanks.

After the podium celebrations, you saw Max running towards you, unexpectedly picking you up and making you twirl under the thin rain, laughing like two kids. When he finally put you down, he kissed your temple with a smile plastered onto his lips. «Ready to go home and celebrate?» he asked you. «I’m already home.» you replied, playing with the hem of his collar. After a few seconds of silence, Max sweetly looked back into your eyes. «You’re right. We’re already home.»

_____________________________________________________________

I'd like to say a lot of things, but this chapter is already lenghty, so I'll try to keep it short. Thanks, from the very bottom of my heart, to all the people who supported (also silently) this story. I truly hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing it. I know there are a lot of mistakes - due to distraction while revising, mainly - and I'll fix them eventually, so thanks again for going past those and showing appreciation regardless. As usual, thanks to whoever leaves a note of feedback ♥ ✧ ˚ · . Wish you a good day . · ˚✧

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#golden post #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #f1 fanfiction #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction

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cerealforkart · 7 months

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Announcements and Updates

I already mentioned this with my anniversary comic this morning (I'm glad people seemed to like "it's back on air"), but Dungeons and Daddies the Manga is a whole year old today and I wanted to talk about a couple things!

For starters, thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me, from those of you who have been here since lesson 1 to those of you who only just discovered lesson 42 yesterday (you probably don't exist because the tags hated lesson 42). Whether you like or reblog every single lesson, you silently read the updates without ever interacting with them, and even if you fell out of the fandom but you read the manga at some point, I appreciate you all so deeply.

I might be making this a bigger deal than it actually is, but Dungeons and Daddies the Manga is a really special project to me. I'm so proud of my growth and I've put a genuinely crazy amount of time and effort into this. There was a time when I was trying to catch up when this was basically a second job. I would come home from work and draw manga pages until I went to sleep, it was all I did, it probably wasn't healthy tbh. People in the discord know, I've gotten crazy efficient at making these, if I don't have anything else going on, I can pump out 2-3 of these a day when new episodes drop. I've never undertaken a project this big before, I'm more the kind of person with a million abandoned first chapters, so to actually still be keeping up with this is huge for me, so I'm hyping this up a little bit.

If anyone has ever thought, "wow, I would love to support cereal financially! They seem to work very hard and would probably really like some money! I would also love some of cereal's cute art to plaster on my belongings," please keep your eyes open, I'll be dropping stickers in near future (Taylor in the trash can will be one of them)! I meant to have them ready for today, but I've never sold anything online before, and I'm kind of stumbling through the process. I'll try to have them up soon! So keep an eye out in the upcoming weeks.

For those of you who only care about Dungeons and Daddies the Manga, you can stop reading here, thank you so much for enjoying my manga this past year! For anyone interested in some personal updates and projects, please keep reading, I've been working on something I'm finally ready to announce.

I've learned a lot from my work on Dungeons and Daddies the Manga. My art has improved a lot, and it's still improving all the time, and I've really come to love making comics. Which is why maybe it won't be so surprising to learn I've decided to start an original webcomic. This webcomic won't interfere with my work on the manga, no need to worry, but as much as I love the manga, and the DnDads community, there's only so much I feel like I get back from it. I've been pouring so much time, energy, and love into Dungeons and Daddies the Manga over the past year, and I'm so proud of my product, but I want to start putting some of all that into something that's actually mine. I've been through a weird past couple of months where I went through some really bad burnout, looked around my life and realized "oh wow, this ALL sucks! I don't like a single thing I have going on here!" So, I quit my job, moved, and while I've been restructuring my life, I started dusting off some of those old abandoned first chapters I mentioned earlier and getting back into original work.

The webcomic is called The Rotting Things, I've teased it a very little bit here and there. It's about a boy with a power that is slowly but surely killing him and a man said to be unable to die trying to maneuver through a world of magic that hates anyone unlucky enough to be able to wield it.

I'm kind of nervous about starting a webcomic, but I've been waiting to be "good enough" to put something out there for a very long time, and I'm trying to come to terms with the fact I'll never be fully happy with my own work and just diving in. It would mean a lot to me if anyone wanted to give it a chance.

An eight page prologue will be dropping next Friday, September 29th, after which pages will start to drop one at a time every Friday. We'll see how I handle the one update a week schedule, it might go up to two pages a week depending on how confident I feel. Just like the manga was, this will be a learning curve for me, but I'm eager to try it out! Please give it a shot!

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #noodly #the rotting things

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its-malarkey · 2 months

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Watching a playthrough (I have no game money unfortunately) and I fucking love the character interactions in DM2. Like. Daimon reassuring Yashiki over his guilt of not being able to save people - relating to how he's a doctor, and how the moment he looses that reassurance he tries to cut everyone else out of the investigation. And then Hiroo (who I like a lot more than in the first game, guess a couple months of friendship w the mark bearers did her good) and Mashita just go like 'cut the shit Yashiki we're helping you' because it's pretty damn obvious that otherwise he just straight up wouldn't accept help otherwise.

I love this game so much, I love trying to figure out who The Departed is between each upload of the playthrough I'm watching, I love the body horror, the characters, Yashiki's personal torment nexus, I just love this game so much aaaaaa!!!

ALSO!! The way Yashiki's and Mashita's different thought processes come together to make up for eachothers weaknessess make my DAY!!!

Sorry for long anon but I love this game so much!!

I started playing the games in October for spooky season because I just looked up “horror games” on my Switch and it was one of the first ones that popped up. Lucky me, I didn’t have to wait years for the English translation of Death Mark 2, just a few months. You’re absolutely right, the character interactions are just improved from what they were in the first game. It really feels like these guys are actually friends now, and I think that’s lovely. Yashiki is SO good at tormenting himself and thinking everything is his fault, and I love how his friends deal with it. There’s a really great (and a little funny) moment later on sometime in the finale chapter (I can’t remember if it’s after he defeats the Departed or before) where he starts blaming himself for not being able to save enough people and Mashita goes “I’m gonna have to stop you there bud I’m not here to listen to your self-loathing… but anyway it’s really not your fault. You did the best you could” and I think that absolutely sums up Mashita’s character when he’s with Yashiki. He tries to pretend he’s cold and doesn’t care but then almost immediately follows it up with the best kindness he knows to give. Their relationship is so fun to me, and I just have to say there’s definitely a reason people ship them (I’m people).

And don’t apologize! Death Mark brainrot is affecting us all and we need to come together to cope

#death mark 2 #death mark #shibito magire #yashiki kazuo #kazuo yashiki #satoru mashita #anon ask

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rubydubydoo122 · 18 days

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Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.

Dick couldn’t do this. It was like all the guilt from not being there for Jason had flooded back up and was drowning him. Dick had forgotten what Jason’s full smile looked like. Jason hadn’t smiled like how he smiled at Cass since he’d gotten back.

Dick was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t notice Damian sitting under the sink. He was out of his Robin uniform, but for some reason he was wearing Jason’s leather jacket.

“Richard?”

“You ok, Damian?”

Damian crossed his arms, which was probably meant to showcase indifference, but if anything it made him look smaller. Especially with the leather jacket that was swamping him. “Tt, of course.” Damian rolled out from under the sink and went to leave. But not before wrapping his arms around Dick in an embrace, “Not because I need one, but because you look like you do.”

And then Damian left.

Dick would figure out what was bugging Damian, just later. Because he needed to collect himself. Dick had seen the way Bruce had froze when Oracle had told them Jason had been reverted to his 15 year old self. Dick was probably going to have to do a good amount of interacting with Jason, because Bruce was sure as hell going to be burying himself in Batman until Jason was an adult again. Dick had never been the best brother to Jason, but now he could try to do better. And it’ll be easier with everyone. Jason has always been Alfred’s favorite, he’d warmed up to Cass basically instantly, Duke has always been easy to get along with, Stephanie and Jason were basically the same person, Dick could bribe Damian to be nicer, and Tim… well maybe if they just never mentioned the Robin thing they’d be fine.

Yeah. This is all gonna be fine.

He opened the door to find Cass, Duke and Steph in a heated whisper conversation that abruptly stopped when he opened the door.

Cass just wordlessly engulfed him in a hug, and then Stephanie and Duke followed.

“He’s so tiny.” Duke mumbled.

Jason was shorter and lighter than Damian who was currently 3 years younger than Jason. So yeah, Jason was small. It was actually a lot more shocking when he turned up the same height as Bruce.

Steph pulled away from the group hug, “Alright, what are we gonna do?”

“What do you mean what are we gonna do? Bruce and Tim will figure out how to reverse this. We’ll help if they let us.”

“First of all, Tim’s sleeping, for the first time in probably a couple days, so we’re not gonna wake him up. Second, I was talking about what we're gonna do with Jason, and third, Bruce is probably gonna be… Bruce… right?”

Dick nodded, “Just treat Jason normally.” he paused, because the way they treated Jason “I put 12 heads in a duffle bag and became a drug lord” Todd was distant at best. “Treat him how you would treat a 15 year old. Not how you would treat 20 year old Jason.”

The three of them nodded as the motor of the Batcycle echoed through the cave.

Let the show begin.

Jason was currently swaddled in his Wonder Woman blanket getting his blood drawn. Alfred had already taken his height and weight, which according to Alfred, was the same as the one from five years ago. He also noted that Jason’s eyes were more green than blue, which apparently happened to him over time with age or something. Which doesn’t really make sense because if he was de-aged then wouldn’t his eyes be the same color? Then again, he still has the white streak in his hair and that’s just hair dye. And he still has a bunch of scars that he doesn’t know where they're from. So who knows how this de-aging thing works.

Alfred took the needle out and placed a bandaid on the hole. “I am going to give this to Master Bruce. Why don’t you head off to–”

“Wait, Bruce is here?” Jason tugged down his sleeve and wrapped the blanket tighter “I’ll come too.”

Alfred looked like he was going to stop him, but didn’t.

Bruce was at the Batcomputer, still in his cowl, and it looked like he was plugging in a red helmet– oh wait, that was Jason’s red helmet– into the computer.

He walked up behind the chair, and looked at the footage that was being played on the screen. It was the same alley Jason was in when he woke up. There was a lady with a giant glowing stick– scepter, who was shooting bolts of magic at the camera. Then a spell hit the Camera directly filling the screen with static.

“Ahh, so we’re dealing with a magician. I dunno about you, Old Man, but I think I have enough sparkle in me to take this lady down.”

If Jason didn’t know any better, he’d say that Bruce was startled at the sound of his voice, but Batman is never surprised.

But he didn’t turn to face Jason. He didn’t even give him a grunt of acknowledgement.

“Uh, Bruce–”

“Todd!” It was the sound of emo Robin’s voice coming from the stairs. Though the kid was no longer wearing the Robin uniform. He was actually wearing the jacket that Jason had on earlier. “I, urm, require your assistance. With… feeding Batcow. And maybe you could meet Goliath.”

“We have cows ?” Jason was about to jump at the chance to help feed the cow and Goliath, who was probably another cow, but then he realized that he kinda had a mini magical mess revolving around him, “Um, I’m not sure if Bruce’ll need me–”

Dick’s face looked between a proud father and like a sudden realization came over him,“Go ahead Jason. We’ll call you if we need you.” And Jason wasn’t dumb. He could read inbetween the lines, and those invisible lines were saying, get the fuck out, the adults are speaking.

So Jason shrugged and skipped to the stairs. Now that Jason could see the kid without the domino mask, he looked familiar, in a way Jason couldn’t put a finger on. “Alright, let's see those cows.”

“Actually, it’s cow , singular. Goliath is a Dragon-Bat.” Yeah, the kid looked a lot like an old picture of Bruce. Except with tanner skin and green eyes, but a part of Jason knew that wasn’t why.

“Excuse me, a what now?”

“A Dragon-Bat. Get with the program, Akhi.”

And just like that, a flood of memories with a kid around four or five drawing a bat in front of him. A kid leaning against him with a fire going in a pit. A kid a few paces behind a woman.

Jason blinked, “You’re Talia’s kid.” Jason looked at the kid as he froze, “Damian.”

There was a moment where Jason could see the longing in Damian’s face, before it was painted over with a look of apathy, as he opened up the back door. “You should not have been able to remember that.”

The locations in the memories were clearly of the League of Assassins, so maybe they wiped his memory. Which sounds truly invasive, but that’s a thought for another time. Jason nudged Damian’s shoulder with his own, “I’m proud of you.”

“Do not patronize me, Todd.” Maybe it was just cold out, but Jason could swear he saw a dusting of red at the tips of Damians ears.

“I might not remember much of anything, but I still feel proud.” Jason put a hand to his chest, because even though he barely knew the kid, he still felt it.

Damian paused at the barn doors, “You were the first person to show me kindness. Though, I didn’t really understand it back then. I didn’t even realize it was you until–”

“You were little, I don’t blame you.” Jason shrugged. They entered the barn and low and behold, there was a cow. With a spot on its face that kinda looked like a mask. “So, what’s the story? How’d we get a cow? Did Alfred and Martha Kent make some sort of barter?” They often exchanged cookies for pies, so it wasn’t too unreasonable.

Damian went to a stack of hay, “No. We rescued her from a slaughterhouse that was infecting the animals with diseases.” Damian recounted the mission as they both moved stacks of hay to feed to Batcow, until there was a chime from Damian’s phone. “That should be enough for now. We’re wanted back in the cave.”

They were opening the clock entrance when Jason finally stated, “We didn’t actually have to feed the cow. They just didn’t want me there, right?” It was the middle of the night.

Damian started down the stairs, “Tt, Father just needed a moment to process. You would too if your adult son was suddenly twelve again.”

“I’m fifteen, first off, and second, I suddenly have four more siblings, and he’s the one that needs to process? He must be getting really old.”

Damian dryly smiled, “Something like that. And five.”

“Five?”

“Five siblings. Well, technically, Brown hasn’t been adopted by father, but she’s at the manor to the point where I think we should get a restraining order.”

Who’s Brown?

“Hey!” Steph shouted from the main area of the batcave, “I heard that, brat! You guys love having me around.”

Oh, right, Damian for some reason only calls people by their last name.

Damian jumped the rest of the way down, “No we do not, you dreadful shrew.”

“Your face is a dreadful shrew.”

“Your–”

“Alright, Master Damian, Miss Stephanie, we do have some work that needs to be done.”

There was a T-chart on the batcomputer screen. one column labeled “Jason 15: 6 years ago” and the other one labeled “Jason 15: now” Under the columns was his height, weight, hair color, eye color, skin color. That stuff. They were playing spot the difference.

“I, uh, I have a buncha scars I don’t recognize.” and suddenly all eyes were on Jason, “I mean, you guys are tryna, ya know.” he gestured to the screen, “Right?”

Duke was the first one to recover, “Yeah, we’re trying to see what’s different. So far it’s just your hair and eyes.”

Dick’s hand flew up to rub the back of his neck, “Would you mind showing us?”

Jason looked around the room. He barely knew four of the seven people in the room. He was barely comfortable with Dick seeing him without a shirt, much less people who he met an hour ago. And, yeah, they were his siblings, but that doesn’t mean he was currently super comfortable around them.

There was the sound of rustling, and Damian came back to the table with a sheet of paper and a pencil. Then he quickly sketched something, flipped the paper, and sketched something similar. Damian slid the paper over to Jason.

It was a drawing of a body, the front was on one side and the back was on the other. It was also really good for something sketched in under a minute. “Holy crow, kid, you’re a prodigy.”

“Tt, it’s hardly my best. Though, this way you can show us without actually showing us.”

Jason plucked the cup of highlighters and colored pens off the desk and got to work. Red were the scars he didn’t remember and Blue were the ones he did. And areas he highlighted yellow were healed burns he didn’t remember and blue highlighter were the burns he remembered getting.

Jason really hoped someone knew where he got some of his scars and burns because he had a lot. Which, yeah, they were vigilantes, some of them didn’t really look like scars he’d get in a fight. He placed the sheet in front of Bruce, who still was barely looking at him. Who still had his cowl on.

“Did I–” Get hurt? Get kidnapped? Get tortured? No, that wasn’t the right way to phrase it, he huffed, because Bruce still wasn’t looking at him. Jason swiveled the chair so that they were facing each other and gently pulled the cowl back.

Bruce looked a lot older. He had gray hair, and the creases between his forehead were a lot deeper. Bruce's blue eyes were more gray and somber, like the past seven years had put him through hell and back. “Did something… happen?”

Bruce took in a deep, finally taking in Jason’s face. “I think it’s past your bedtime.”

“Bruce, I don’t have a bedtime.” Jason crossed his arms, “Don’t’cha think I deserve to know? It’s my life .”

Bruce just put his cowl back on and turned back to the computer.

“Ya know what? Don’t cross off alternate dimensions just yet, because my Bruce would at least look at me.” And Jason stormed up the stairs.

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth

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llamaqueenprompt · 29 days

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chapter five

word count: 1k

Now

It had been a week since they last talked, a week with zero contact between them. Maybe it wasn’t on purpose, maybe it was, no one knows, but it had been a week since they last talked and they both missed each other.

Charles had come close to texting Rory a couple of times, but he always stopped himself, he had agreed to give her time, so that was exactly what he was going to do. Rory on the other hand had found herself looking for Charles everytime she was in a room where other drivers were also.

Right now, separated from each other they were both focused on their own thing. It was the media day of the first weekend of the season and Charles was making his way around the interviews.

“Charles, great to see you!”

“Likewise.” He shot his charming smile to the camera.

“You look fresh from the vacation.” Charles laughed a bit, “Ready for this weekend? A lot of expectations?”

He gently scratched his chin, “Yeah, you know how it goes, it’s the first weekend of the season, all the points and all the doors are open, so yeah, I can say I have expectations for this season.”

“Last season didn’t end as you expected, have the holidays helped you deal with the disappointment that came with it?”

“In some way. The only thing I can say is that the holidays came at the right time.” They both laughed as Charles moved on to the next interview.

He knew all the questions would revolve around these two subjects, his expectations for the new season and if he had forgotten what had happened last season. Of course he had expectations and of course he hadn’t forgotten. Last season was awful in more ways than one and he had disappointed everyone and his goal this season was to change that.

“Have you been getting along with everyone?”

“Yes dad, I have.” Rory reassured her father.

She wasn’t expecting that when this morning she was woken up by a knock on her door for it to be her dad. Her parents had told her that they would be coming to visit someday, but she was expecting that someday to be the first GP.

Her dad had explained to her that he and some of his colleagues at the clinic had taken this weekend off so they all entered a plane and ended up here. As if she would believe that.

“So… Where is Alejandro?”

Rory rolled her eyes. “Knew it was coming.” She took a deep breath, “I don’t know and I don’t want to know that.”

“At this point you are just being mean Rory.”

“I’m not being mean. My relationship with Alejandro ended badly to say the least and you guys seem to forget that and think he is the perfect guy for me.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t talk more about the subject now. But just so you know Alejandro is walking towards us.”

Rory quickly turned around to see Alejandro walking towards them with a smile on his face. The last time she saw she invented a boyfriend that was very visibly nowhere to be seen, the only thing she could do was pray that we wouldn’t bring it up.

“Mr. Delgado, so good to see you,” Alejandro shook her dad’s hand, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“No one actually knew, it was a last minute decision. And I believe I have already told you to call me Gabriel.”

“Sorry Gabriel.” Alejandro laughed and then looked at Rory who had stayed still while the two men interacted, “It’s good to see you too Aurora.”

“Can’t say the same.”

“Well, I don’t really have the time to catch up now,” a smile started to grow on Rory’s face, “how about we do it later today? At dinner maybe?” Rory’s smile completely disappeared.

“Sounds good to me, we had no plans.” Her dad answered, completely missing the look on her face.

“Perfect. Maybe you can bring your boyfriend to Rory. I bet your father will be delighted to meet Charles.”

Rory became pale, she couldn’t believe that Alejandro would bring that up in front of her dad. And that stupid smirk that was making its way into his face proved that he didn’t believe a word that she had said to him the week before. And think that Charles was her boyfriend? That man was crazy and she had to make things right.

“I…” Rory started but was quickly interrupted by an arm making its way around her waist.

“I would be delighted to attend the dinner tonight. I’m Charles by the way, Rory’s boyfriend.” Charles extended his hand towards her father without batting an eye and with an award winning smile on his face.

Rory looked up at him with her eyebrows creased to which he just winked at her. Alejandro’s smile quickly disappeared as Charles and Rory’s dad engaged in small talk, completely forgetting that he was present. He hated it so much that he disappeared without uttering a word to anyone present.

“The conversation is amazing, but unfortunately I have some more things to do before I’m completely free.” he pulled Rory more to him by the arm that was still around her waist.

“Of course Charles, see you at dinner.” The two mens shook hands one more time.

Charles leaned down to Rory’s ear and whispered, “Don’t overthink it. Just text me the details for later and we will make sure that Alejandro has given up by the end of dinner.” He left a small kiss on her forehead before disappearing to what he was going to do before leaving Rory still starstroke without understanding what had just happened all she knew was that it was going to be an interesting dinner.

“So? Charles Leclerc? You have to start calling us more often.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #formula one #f1 #f1fanfic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x oc

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black-moon-bunny · 1 year

Text

Revenge and Regret.

Sister y/n prepares herself for the night mass unknowing that she is being watched. After night mass and dinner everyone goes to sleep in the abbey. But not Swiss, the multi-ghoul has already planned his revenge, will this bring to him regrets? Will the sister fall into his trap? How this not so well thought plan will end?

Chapter one. Chapter two. Chapter 3 Chapter Four

Couples: Fem!Reader x Swiss, Cirrus x Sunshine.

Warnings: Y/N is used, Swiss is a bit of an asshole in this chapter also (I swear it gets better in the next). Voyeurism, Masturbation (Female) Smut, A little angst but not much just a tiny bit. NSFW, Minors DNI +18. All of the pictures were taken from the internet so credits to the people who made them.

Word Count: 5358.

A.N: First of all, I want to thank all of the wonderful comments and the support that the fic has had these last days. Second, I'm currently working on the third chapter, but I got a fever of 38-39 C° (I think is somewhere between 101 F° and 103° F ) and caught a cold (Yeah a cold, in summer. Well, here where I live it is summer right now) so i haven't gotten really far with it but I will post it as soon as I get better. Without anything more to add please enjoy this chapter.

For Sister y/n the rest of the day went by somewhat smoothly: Primo left her after their conversation and the day at the library went fine. Some sisters stopped by to chat with her, something about Cardinal Copia returning from his trip to the Vatican City where he was supposed to bought (or stole maybe) some books; some little gossip about Terzo’s confessional meetings with some sisters and things like that. She wanted to see Cardinal Copia. She had a soft spot for him, he was so sweet with her every time he went into the library, he was awkwardly charming, and she enjoyed his presence.

After the sisters left the library, she closed for the day and went to her room to prepare for the night mass. It was a warm summer night and Sister Imperator, after a long talk with the Cardinal and Papa Terzo, decided to be less strict with the dress requirements; she could wear something lighter than her tunic and veil. Night mass was for the sisters and brothers to go with their most comfortable clothing, so she decided to go with something light for the warmness of the night. A deep purple velvet dress, a little on the short side, and black platforms with silk stockings. She used her cross necklace and cross earrings with pride.

She joined a group of sisters on her way to the main chapel. Today Secondo oversaw the mass and sermon. She enjoyed Secondo’s sermons; he was so polite, and he talked with a lot of pasión about the work of the church in spreading the word of the darkness. He was genuinely scary, and she had little to no interactions with him, but he always was a gentleman. She looked forward to Papa Secondo mass. Sometimes when she wanted to give up, his sermons gave her new energy to keep going. He was mostly quiet, not like Terzo who walks all over the apse and the altar during his sermons, but he talked with passion and honor of the Emeritus name and with pride in the work of the clergy and himself.

She remembered the first time that she met him. A newcomer in the church in a private reunion with one of the Papas, to decide her future in the abbey.

She was outside the personal office of Secondo in the abbey, waiting to be called. She was nervous, almost terrified. Besides her excitement for being in the church and having found a new place for her in the world, this meeting was the official test for her. If she succeeded, she was going to be one of the many sisters in sin of the abbey and she was going to be assigned to a room and a job. If she failed, she could still help but she would be an outsider and would have to find a job and a place to live.

—Sister y/n, please come in…. — He was completely outstanding. His clothes, his papal paint; his presence intimidated her. She was amused, but also curious.

—Thank you, Papa, …

—Take a seat dear girl, I don’t bite. Terzo does, be careful with him. —He laughed a bit trying to ease her, she seemed tense. He could understand, being in front of any of the Emeritus was breathtaking for many.

—Thank you, Papa, … So, I should be glad then that I’m going to be interrogated by You, Papa and not by your brother? —She smiled a bit, she had already heard some tales about Emeritus the Third, Terzo.

—I think so and don’t worry, it is not an interrogation. Just some basic information that is needed and an interview just to find where you would be more apt to work. There are common works that each and one of the siblings participate in, for example cooking dinner, cleaning the abbey, and washing clothes. Each month we select a group of sisters and brothers for each one of those tasks and, at the end of the month, are replaced by others and so on. There are other jobs that are selected by their bosses, for example being personal assistant to someone from the clergy or taking care of the garden.

—The garden?

—Si, the garden. My older brother, Papa Emeritus the First has a huge garden, and he always handpicks the sisters or brothers who will be working in it.

—I get it. I’m looking forward to cooking, it’s one of my hobbies… A good meal can be everything that someone needs in times of hardship. —Her smile seemed too bright as she was talking about her likings.

—I will be looking forward to it then, Sister y/n. Well, tell me, how did you end up here, why did you come to us?

—Well, I used to live in a place by the coast, a small town. Had loving parents and everything. I was a teacher… and I had a normal life but, there was this annoying void in my life… I have never been a girl who went to churches or participate in any rite of some sort, but I always felt attracted to demonology and learning about as many religions as I could just for curiosity… I really enjoy books so, I spent most of my time reading… I have been always some sort of an outcast in my hometown, and in my work as teacher too, so I had plenty time to read… And then one day, I threw everything away, bought a ticket plane and travelled around… Then I heard about the Ghost project. I went to one of the rituals and fell in love with the idea of the church, the passion, and the music… It filled part of the void so quickly than I had no doubts, this was my path in life. —Her eyes became glossy as she was remembering some sad parts of her life. She loved being a teacher, but she was not accepted there. She loved her hometown, but she never fitted… She wanted from the bottom of her lonely heart to fit here in the church.

—When you are called by our master you feel it in your heart, he called you here. You belong here with us, don’t ever feel like you don’t belong because here you will always be welcomed. I’m glad you found your way home, your way to us. To him…—He pointed to the big painting of Lucifer that hanged above him. — Well, I have seen enough of you to know that you are going to be one of our most valuable assets here in the church grounds. You seem truly devoted to your calling, and for your job… Would you be fine working at the library? It is huge and needs a lot of maintenance and paperwork, but I think that you are going to love it.

—Yes! Of course, I would love to! I…—She felt some tears falling down her face, she felt so relieved… and so welcomed by Papa Secondo’s words. — I’m sorry… it’s just… I felt so relieved.

—Don’t worry sister, you are going to be great here. And if you have any problems, don’t hesitate to contact me. Let me guide you to the library and then I will leave you with Sister Imperator so you two have a talk about your room and some of the rules here.

From that first encounter, she could feel nothing more than admiration for Secondo. She always participated in his mass, she always tried to retrieve to him as much as she could with her hard work. Even after a year passed, she still felt the excitement of participating at Secondo’s mass.

Besides the excitement that Secondo’s sermons brought to her, she felt like she was being watched from everywhere and couldn’t keep her concentration. Was it the dress? No, it couldn’t be. Other sisters were wearing much more revealing clothes than she was. Maybe Sister Imperator found out of her incident with Swiss and was looking at her? No, she wasn’t. She was feeling a bit anxious, yet she kept trying to focus on the mass. Her suspicions were true though. Primo was looking at her a bit concerned about her behavior early in the day. He kept thinking that something sketchy was definitely going on between the sweet sister and the ravishing ghouls.

Swiss was looking at her also, damning her and her slutty purple dress, his hand in a fist pressing until his knuckles turned a pale grey. She still had a small scent, but her cologne ruined it. She looked gorgeous, the dress hugging her figure, her wide hips. Her thighs in the black silk stockings looked like a sin in itself. She even had a couple of tattoos. And that sweet doe-eyed face looking with admiration to Secondo, wide open. When she went to drink from the chalice, he felt a bit of envy of Secondo’s position: She was underneath the altar, slowly bending her knees looking up to the altar with her mouth slightly open and expecting for the wafer and the bitter wine from Secondo’s hand. Swiss wished to see her between his legs exactly in the same position. He felt like his pants tightened a bit and looked apart to distract himself. He needed to stick to his plan.

In addition, two other ghouls were watching her subtly from the chancel, where the ghouls usually seated for mass, Sodo and Aether. Sodo was intrigued by this sister. They spotted her after noticing Swiss looking at her and mumbling something under his breath. They were sure she was the sister from the library. She seemed interesting, she did not stand up from the rest of the siblings, but at the same time she looked different from the rest of the sisters. Maybe fitting with some others, they have met but not with the full spectrum of the clergy and siblings. She could pass under the radar but never be fully invisible. Sodo already knew some aspects of her, after listening to her singing, wandering outside her room next to the library.

But Aether never knew of her existence until Swiss’ rant now and thought the same. They wanted to know the mysterious sister who made Swiss react like an asshole, but before even trying to talk to her, she was gone as soon as the mass finished.

After mass, they were having dinner in the saloon. The tables were ready, and everyone began to seat. Swiss looked where y/n was seated and scanned the sisters next to her. He definitely knew a few and decided to play his plan smoothly as possible. After the main dish he stood from his seat and walked to where her entertainment for the night was, whispered something to her and left with a smirk. He noticed how y/n looked at him before leaving.

Dinner was over and everyone went to their chambers to sleep. Y/n returned to her room and undressed, getting on her flowy black nightgown but she wasn’t tired. She was confused and still horny, thinking about the events of the morning. She really wanted to fuck… It was almost a fucking year without any contact, and Swiss was a fucking ghoul. It was no secret for her that she felt deeply attracted to them and curious. But this new position given by Sister Imperator prohibited her from indulging in her desires. She lit the purple lights from her decoration, and dropped into her bed, bouncing on the mattress. She was reading a book of demonology and listening to soft jazz when she heard a soft female laugh followed by a growl from the wall that led to the library. Hell fucking no.

She put on her night robe and pressed her ear to the wall hearing a breathy female moan. Her hand moved a bit for a better position and accidentally moved a small mirror next to her closet. Behind it was revealed to her a small purple button. Was that one of the secrets? What was it? An alarm? Something to scare the intruders? She pressed it curiously and anxiously at the same time. It was her job to secure the library and impend night intrusions! If Imperator found out that someone was messing around and she did nothing, she was going to get in trouble.

After pressing the button, some tiles on the floor moved away, creating a passage under the floor with a small light to see where it leads. She decided to follow it, and, after a small walk, she was beneath a trap door in the floor of the library right behind her desk. Underneath the floor she felt more moans and gasps,

—You sure are enjoying this, aren’t you sister?

That voice… it was Swiss! That fucking asshole… So, everything that happened in the morning was a fucking trick to enter the library… but how did he enter? She was sure she had closed with the key and everything, and she would have heard if the door were forced open.

The moans were filling the room, the sound of skin slapping and fluids gushing. She could not deny that even given her position she was a bit aroused by the sounds.

—Look at you, so cockdrunk… So wet for me… Does it feel good? Sure, it is… You can barely talk, so dumb by my cock inside you… Squeezing me…

Y/n decided to lift the trap door slowly; She didn’t want to make any type of noise. She entered the room hiding behind her desk, poking her head out enough to see a bit in the darkness of the place. And the view was something brought up from her dirtiest fantasies.

Swiss was seated on the same armchair from before with the sister seated in his lap, her back pressed against her chest, his face on her neck biting and kissing. His hands lifting her legs as he pounded hard into her wet sex, his tail playing with her breasts. It was brutal, hard and filled with passion. She knew that she needed to stop them, it was her job, nonetheless. But it was so fucking horny, she felt like a teenager watching some porn hidden in her room, but a million times better.

—Don’t try to deny it, you whore… Come on, come for me… You know you need it. One more….

Swiss was fucking her as hard as he could, chasing his high, enjoying his revenge. He was sure that Sister y/n was going to hear all of the noise, he was not going to let her fucking rest. Despite his thirst for revenge, deep down he wanted to make her jealous, that it could have been her if she wanted, but no… Primo messed up the whole thing. He was feeling great, but he noticed how the scent of the sister he was fucking did not even come close to y/n’s scent. It was good but it wasn’t turning him crazy as he was before. It was weaker and not that sweet. He was losing a bit of concentration just thinking about y/n and how much he wanted this sister to be her. He kept going and moved one of his hands to her clit, pressing and caressing the button making the sister moan and tighten. He bite her neck making her moan his name over and over. He still had a lot of energy left to please her and fulfill his revenge.

While y/n was looking from behind the desk (how dirty he was), that sister was sure enjoying it. Maybe she could stop them at the end of their… session. She didn’t know either how the ghoul could react, he seemed stripped from all control and good behavior. Her body felt hot, the moans and growls of the ghouls were echoing in her head, her lungs felt heavy, and the musky scent of the ghoul was making her dizzy. She knew that she was getting horny by just watching.

Her legs opened a bit allowing her hand to touch her clothed pussy above the smooth fabric of her night gown slowly. That was wrong but she was turned on so fast by it. Her voyeuristic pleasure. She began to make circles above her clit, feeling the fabric getting wetter each time she pressed a bit. She choked a moan when she put her hand beneath her underwear directly over her pussy, and introduced two fingers inside mimicking the thrusts of the ghoul as best as she could. She couldn’t look away; every time that he thrusted into her, she saw how his dick stretched out her pussy and made her gush around his dick. How dirty it sounded also, the sloppy wet sounds, his moans, her moans, the skin slapping. As y/n pushed her fingers more and more deep inside her looking for that spot, her mind only could think of how it must feel having his dick inside her. She did not realize that she was looking straight to him. And that’s when it happened.

Swiss felt her scent from one moment to another, and he knew that it was not coming from the girl he was fucking. He took a deep breath trying to get as much of her scent as he could. That’s when he looked directly at the desk, and then his eyes found hers, her dazed look. She looked flustered and he was sure that she was masturbating while she watched them. How cute, how fucking horny also… So, she enjoyed watching? He was going to put on a whole show for her. The ghoul winked his green eye looking at y/n who almost passes out right there. She had been caught. As soon as he saw her reaction, he began to thrust into her with an almost animalistic force. He could feel how her scent grew ever stronger, overpowering the weak scent of the sister he was thrusting into.

She felt trapped. What is going on there with her fucking horniness and that damned ghoul? But the horniness was stronger than the guilt now and her fingers didn’t stop. She went harder squeezing her nipples with her free hand, moaning ever so slightly. She was close, and that was so messed up. Swiss never broke eye contact with her. He moaned and gasped but always kept total eye contact. He was thinking about fucking her while fucking the poor unsuspicious sister (but she couldn’t complain, she already had come twice and was almost there again). He moved the hand that was holding Sister’s leg, and grabbed her throat, biting her earlobe and moaning how close he was to her ear.

Y/n almost lose it right there, the way he was pounding into her while keeping full eye contact with her, her own fingers fucking the devil out of her hole. The moans and growls from the ghoul… For one moment she felt like it was only the two of them in the library. The other sister didn’t exist in the dirty game they were playing. With a few more hard thrusts from Swiss, he came pulling his cock out and letting his seed spread on the armchair with a mischievous smirk. She came at the same time dropping to the floor to avoid the stare of the ghoul. Her breathing was altered, her heart going like crazy, and she barely could feel her legs

After coming down from the bliss, the sister dressed again and left. She saw her struggle with the close door and then going up the second floor to disappear into the air guided by Swiss. Before leaving, Swiss told her “This is a one-time thing, don’t tell anyone… You don’t want to get in trouble”.

Y/n was trying to keep it together. After the bliss, the guilt felt heavier in her chest. That was risky. She could lose her job, she could get in so much trouble with the upper clergy (Maybe not with Terzo, he was a scandalous dirty whore). She could lose her own room, her private sanctuary! She also felt dirty, she knew that it was bad. She should have stopped them, but she lost control. She felt her whole body on fire just by hearing the ghoul moan. She was about to stand and leave for her room when the voice of the ghoul stopped her.

—So, a part of being a fucking tease, you are also a voyeur?... Such a dirty little sister, you are not a prude at all, are you?

—Shut up… You should be grateful that I didn’t call Sister Imperator right away…

—Could you? After getting off by watching us? Do you think I didn’t notice?... Your scent is intoxicating, I felt it right away… What is the matter, little bunny? You got jealous and came to take a look at what you were missing?

Swiss kept his human glare all the time while fucking the other sister, only letting his tail out, but talking with y/n made him drop the glare and going full ghoul. His mismatched eyes looking at her defiant but also intrigued by her next move, his fangs shining under the moonlight that passed through the windows.

—You wish… I was going to do my job! … And then… your scent… I fucking hate you. You made my body all flustered and I couldn’t stop my… self…Wait a damn minute, this was your plan? Messing around with me to get your entrance to the library? You tried to get in my skirt this morning just so you could come here and ruin my job at night?

The realization hit her; she was indeed part of a plan. A plan that could’ve easily had her expelled from the abbey for breaking the trust of S. Imperator. So, the ghoul was never interested in her. All the flirting, all of his questions. He just wanted a free pass to the library.

—Well, I was looking for something. And then I tried to seduce you. You looked so cute there, all shy and doe-eyed around me… How can one resist to you?

—Don’t lie, Swiss… You wanted this? Your chance to sneak in the library at night? You didn’t have to almost fuck me to get it, you know? Fucking asshole… It’s like being seduced by someone just for pity. You truly are a dickhead.

—Don't talk to me like that… You have no right to scold me, little bunny…—He growled getting closer to her, grabbing her by the waist and picking her from the floor to seat her over the desk looking at him — Maybe this little spectacle will show you that I’m not just a “Simple Ghoul”….

—What? I have never believed that! You overhead what I said to Papa Primo?... I just said that to leave him calmed and without suspicions! My job here and even my possibility to stay at the abbey depended of it. Sister Imperator trusts in me enough to take care of this place! And one of the untold rules is not screwing around with Terzo or the ghouls! —She looked directly at him, letting some of her anger out — I have worked a lot to even get this position —Well, the part of the hard work was true, but the position at first felt like a burden and she really only wanted to keep the room— Why I even thought about screwing it all up for a horny ass ghoul who just wanted a free night pass…—Her voice cracked a bit. She was exhausted and she really felt lonely at the library most of the time; she felt lonely even at the abbey with her sisters and brothers in sin. For a moment she believed that Swiss, even with his flirtatious nature, could be interested in talking with her. He seemed interested in reading, that’s why she showed him her favorite book!

Swiss felt a bit like an idiot. He was indeed putting her at risk with her job and she seemed really angry. And she was right with most of what she said… And he felt stupid. She was trying to save her job, not bashing him just because she felt like it. He screwed it up badly…

—Sister, I truly didn’t want to put you in trouble, I just… It was unfair to us. We were enjoying the library and we didn’t even touch the books! But then Imperator gave you this job and we were forced to leave our sanctuary… And I’m not the only one who thinks this! But I was the one who put you at risk… But after teasing you, I can swear that I did it purely for attraction! You seemed so cute and at the same time you…

—Swiss… I don’t want explanations, not now. I’m tired and… this whole thing was wrong. I shouldn’t have indulged in this situation. Just leave.

—Sister… I am truly…

—Just leave…—She went off the desk and fix her robe looking at him with almost no expression. From a whole rainbow to a scale of grey. She was still the same outcast, the same girl who did not fit enough to be even taken seriously for once.

Swiss took his mask and made a lame attempt to clean the mess he made, then he left. She did the same. She really felt exhausted and guilty. Was it worth the pleasure? She was going to get in so much trouble if Swiss opened his mouth…

As soon as she went back to her room, she turned on her music, her purple lights and collapsed on the bed. Even when she tried, she was unable to stop the tears that fell from her eyes. She felt so lonely… and so guilty. She knew that she was doing something bad! She knew that she could lose her job, but she was so touch-starved, so lonely… She wanted to feel desired, she wanted to feel as attractive as her sisters in sin who always seemed to get lucky. She was always behind… She covered herself with her blanket and fell asleep before turning down the music and the lights.

Swiss, on the way to the den, felt also guilty for his actions; not for everything he did, but for the way in which she spoke to him. She seemed genuinely hurt. He was indeed a dickhead with her, and she was nothing but sweet even when he was tempting her so hard. She was nice to him, showed him one of her favorite books and was so caring with her questions about books while he was trying to flirt with her… Her scent was still in her nostrils, erasing every trace of the sister he lured but making him feel even more guilty. His pride was too much but she was right in everything. He acted from pure spite.

As soon as he arrived at the den, he let himself drop to the sofa and took his mask off, tossing it on the floor without much care. Cirrus was having some coffee and reading a book on the table in front of the sofa. He looked pretty distraught, so she worried a bit.

—Swiss, did you do something wrong?...

—What!? No!… Well, yeah… Well, no… It’s complicated, Cirrus….

—It’s late, we have all night… But you look like shit, and guiltiness doesn’t suit you.

—She was not talking bad about me from spite… and I almost ruin her job… Well, most probably I ruined her job already…

—And she is…?

—Sister y/n, the girl who works at the library and that Imperator chose to take care of the library at night…

—You went to the library and threatened her or something? She is a cutie, but she has a temper. There is this thing though, she is always somewhat lonely, at least that is what the crows said —One of Cirrus’ hobbies was bird keeping. She had four crows: Fames, Pestis, Bellum and Mors. And they were her eyes on the abbey. She was one of the elder ghouls. Her mission while in the abbey was taking care of the ghouls and avoiding problems, but the ghouls were mostly unpredictable, and she enjoyed the gossip that the crows brought to her more than babysitting her bandmates.

—I tried to seduce her, but I caught up in a bit of a heat. Her scent, Cirrus, her scent made me lose control and after a moment, I just wanted to have her. I didn’t care about the library… but Primo interrupted us, and then when I found the second floor entrance, I heard her talking about how I was just a simple ghoul, how she was not affected by me and that I was one more of the ghouls on the abbey and I got mad… and screw over everything

—How?

—I broke into the library with a sister and fucked her and y/n went to stop us and saw me… and I put at risk her job…

—And now you feel guilty, I get it. Well… That was a dick move, you know? She has not many friends in the abbey, so she is not going to have help from anyone if Imperator kicks her out. She is not even from here; she left her birthplace to be here…

—I get it, Cirrus. I’m an asshole…

—And you should….

—Apologize? … I know but she hates me, so I don’t have a choice…

—Well, even if she does, you need to apologize. Bring her a gift, show her that you are sorry and don’t do that shit again…—She sighed and rubbed Swiss shoulder with care. The ghoul relaxed with her touch leaning into her. They all cared for each other even with their fights, even with their stupid arguments.

—Could I ask you a favor?... Can you persuade the rest? To leave the library alone? I don’t want her to lose her job…

—I will try, but you know how they are. You are like that too. But honestly, you need to apologize to her. She seems nice, and awfully lonely.

Swiss left to his room, he needed to rest… That’s when the fire ghoul dropped from the ceiling. He heard everything that Swiss said to Cirrus.

—So, she is awfully lonely, and Swiss is a jerk?…

—Why are you two so fixed on this sister? Is she sooo special?

—I don’t know, but she is something… When I was sneaking outside her room, I managed to catch a glimpse of her singing with some weird colorful lights shining through the door.

—And what do you think? Maybe she is a witch! —Cirrus was clearly joking, but to Sodo that seemed like a full possibility.

—Maybe! She seems nice also. Today at the dinner she was talking with some of the sisters about Secondo’s mass, she seemed really invested in it…

—You know, maybe I’m going to pass by the library tomorrow… Goodnight Sodo, don’t bother Aether if you don’t want to be hit again, and don’t go to sleep late. You have been using more energy than usual —Cirrus kissed his cheek and patted his head a couple of times before going to her room. She shared her bed with Sunshine, so she landed on the warm side of the bed, hugging her from behind — She has made a good impression already. Are you sure that Secondo’s vision was about her?— Cirrus whispered at Sunshine’s ear.

—I’m about… eighty percent sure… She seems to fit the mold… Come here babe, kiss me goodnight and go to sleep…

—Swiss and Sodo are really interested in her… But Swiss already screwed it up. I hope she forgives him, he seemed worried…

—She will. If Secondo was right… we are going to be first in line to see the birth of a new ghoulette… It is going to be nice to have another girl in the den… —I hope Secondo is right… Well, enough of this talk… Let’s go back to sleep, ok? —Cirrus kissed her slowly before going to sleep hugging her. Thinking to herself how interesting these couple of months were going to be.

A.N : Soooo I hope that this was a good chapter for you. I have two things to add, i hurt myself writing this a couple of times, the feelings of being an outcasted hit really hard. And second, Thanks again to my wonderful editor @saemttle who beta read this and help me with the editing. I wish that everyone who reads this enjoys and supports. Thank you so much.

A.N 2: I just needed to add girls love, so I thought to add Cirrus and Sunshine as a couple, I'm thinking on give the same treatment to Rain and Mountain because I always pair those two in my mind but who knows, let me know if you would like to see something like that.

#y/n x swiss #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss x reader #ghost bc fanfic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #reader x swiss #ghost ghouls #ghost the band #swiss ghoul #swiss ghost #copia x reader #cardinal copia #copia x y/n #ghost bc fanfiction #multi ghoul #sodo x reader #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x reader

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 year

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Beyond Rumours

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Chapter Nineteen

Summary: Y/n is a Malfoy. A Pureblood. A pretentious, blood-status-loving Slytherin. At least, those are the rumours, but since when has Remus Lupin ever really cared about rumours?

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: hi! sorry i haven't been posting much lately, i had my exams which was stressful, my mental health has gone a bit downhill AND (worst of all) i am suffering from extreme writer's block.

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Y/N MALFOY

Friday, 11th of December 1977

I sat in Transfiguration, watching the snow fall rather than paying attention to Professor McGonagall or the lesson at hand. We were supposed to be turning our fairy cakes into fairies, and after a few attempts my mind had wandered. I knew I'd probably get chastised for it, but there was so much going on in my mind.

The first was the Yule Ball. I'd been so surprised when Remus had asked me that I'd said yes automatically and embarrassed myself slightly. I hoped that he didn't think about how desperate I'd been.

The second thing I'd been thinking about was Remus (even though the two were sort of interconnected). Over the past couple of days he'd seemed agitated and fidgety. He'd zoned out a lot and appeared to struggle to hold a conversation. Maybe he was having trouble sleeping, or was stressing about his N.E.W.T.s? I was sure he didn't need to stress that hard – he was the smartest person in his year, and he studied like it, too.

The third (and most frightening) thought plaguing my mind was my parents. I hadn't heard from them – or my brother – in quite some time now. Luckily I was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas due to the Yule Ball, and I wouldn't have to see them. But their silence was putting me on edge.

"Miss Malfoy, your fairy cake still appears to be mostly edible."

I looked up to see McGonagall standing in front of my desk. She wasn't wrong – the only difference to my cake was that it had wings, and was attempting to fly away. Unfortunately it was too heavy for the wings, resulting in the cake just wobbling around.

"Yes, sorry Professor," I mumbled, flicking my wand at the cake.

Well, at least it had a head now. But it was utterly terrifying. Regulus snorted from the desk beside me, but shut up after a sharp glance from the professor. McGonagall observed my cake for a moment longer before walking away, leaving me to throw it at Regulus's head, a high-pitched shriek escaping him. McGonagall didn't even turn around.

It wasn't just me who wasn't paying that much attention. Everyone was ready for the Christmas holidays, and it showed. While barely anyone in my year was going home for the holidays, every student was still buzzing with excitement. McGonagall could see this, and the usually strict witch didn't comment on any of it, instead just giving pointers and clarification.

When the bell for the end of the lesson finally rang, there was a flurry of motion as everyone jumped up and left the classroom, talking excitedly. I grinned at Regulus, as we left, excited for the holidays.

I had no idea what the next day would bring.

It started out normal. I woke up late, glad for the sleep in. I walked down to the common room with Lily, where we met Regulus. Lily informed us that the other boys wanted a longer sleep in, so we went down to the Great Hall, which was decked in Christmas decorations. Most of the younger students had left to go home, but those who were staying for the Yule Ball mingled around. Instead of the four house tables, there were two, leaving us all to interact. Luckily it seemed that the Slytherins had claimed the table to the left, so Lily, Reg and I went to the one on the right.

We stayed at breakfast for a while, eating at a leisurely pace, not worrying about getting to class. The boys arrived late, and I noticed the absence of a certain someone.

"Where's Remus?" I asked.

The three gave each other a quick glance, before James addressed me.

"Hospital Wing," he answered, spreading jam on his toast.

He raised his head and looked me dead in the eye, and I remembered the conversation we'd had a month previous. About Remus, and his secret illness. Had it flared up again? Once more, I was curious as to what it could be. Perhaps a recurring case of the Dragon-pox? It sounded ludicrous, but I was so hypnotised by it. I wanted to know what was going on.

Curiosity killed the cat, a part of my mind whispered.

I didn't question James any further, instead simply nodding in understanding. Regulus looked between James and I carefully, reading our faces and body language. I realised that our friend group had gone quiet, and that James and Sirius seemed to be having some sort of telepathic conversation.

Luckily, Mary and Marlene came down and sat with us, filling our silence with their energetic laughs. Well, really just Mary's laugh, as Marlene rested her head against the table with a groan.

"You've had a late start," Lily said slyly. "Do anything fun last night?"

"Party in the Ravenclaw common room," Mary replied, heaping bacon onto her plate. "Marlene didn't want to leave."

Marlene let out a series of grunts and Mary stroked her hair affectionately.

"Thanks for inviting us," Sirius scoffed.

Mary smirked. "Just not cool enough, I'm afraid."

Sirius rolled his eyes and Marlene let out another string of incomprehensive words. Mary seemed to understand, though, because she just chuckled.

"Don't worry, Marls. I know you only wanted to stay because of hottie Steve," Mary grinned.

Marlene smacked her best friend in the arm, finally lifting her head. She glared at Mary, but only half-heartedly.

"You know I was only there for you."

"And a certain Slytherin."

Marlene threw her friend a withering glare, but Mary smiled warmly at her friend before heaping food onto her plate. "Eat up. It'll make the hangover better."

Breakfast passed quickly and we all hung out in the Gryffindor common room, playing various games. James and Sirius seemed to be nearly asleep. The same couldn't be said for Peter, though – he'd fallen asleep face-first into the couch.

It was suspicious that they were all so tired – what had they been doing last night? They hadn't been at the party – they'd all gone to bed early, and Sirius had been upset that Mary hadn't invited them. Was Remus being sick tied into this, somehow? Were they maybe just up late, worrying about their friend?

It was just after lunch when Remus arrived in the common room, and smiled slightly at everyone before sitting next to Peter on the couch. The other three marauders as well as Lily all gave him concerned looks, but he shook his head subtly. Questions bubbled up inside me, but I kept my mouth firmly shut. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable – especially not in front of so many people.

Night time rolled around quickly and I lay in my bed in the Gryffindor Tower, staring up at the ceiling. Everyone else was asleep – I could hear their even breaths. I couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about Remus, and his illness. What could it be? The thought plagued my mind, and I wished I had an answer. I didn't want to invade his privacy, but I was just so curious. Did it have something to do with his many scars? I knew he wore jumpers a lot to cover them up. Most of them were massive – there was one that stretched all the way from his collarbone down his navel. I'd noticed it when we'd gone swimming at the lake.

Curiosity killed the cat, my inner voice told me again.

I rolled over and faced the window, looking out and into the starry night beyond. The moon was full last night, and now a sliver of the glowing sphere had faded.

My mind drifted to James's words. Remus's illness, and that he didn't like to talk about it. I could never ask him – but I wanted to know. Why had it flared up, exactly a month later? And why had it taken him out for only a night? Why didn't it last longer?

The light of the moon filled the dorm room, and I stared up at it, trying to figure it out. Remus's illness, flaring up after a month, only his close friends knew...

The moon looked down at me, as if it knew the answer, as if it were mocking me. Mocking me, mocking me...

I was nearly asleep when it clicked. The moon. A month. The scars.

I sat bolt upright in bed, my eyes still on the moon, feeling much more awake now.

Scars all over his body. Scars from claws. The claws of an animal. A month since his last "flare-up" – or a whole moon cycle. From full moon to full moon.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

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rinwritesfics · 1 year

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How (Not) to Heal - Chapter 2

Plot: After being rescued from Mount Tantiss, Crosshair has to figure out how to work with the Batch again - and their new medic. It would be fine if he didn’t start to fall in love with her.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1323

Author’s Note: Started to write this before the season 2 finale, now it’s an AU. No finale spoilers. Sort of OC, but despite the name included, it is an afab reader-insert.

Previously

Chapter 2

It took another full rotation and a half for him to be more ready to interact with the others, but that didn’t stop his sister from inviting him to join them – at first. That changed, though, when he just about drove her off with his attitude. It wasn’t quite her fault. She had just been trying to be nice. Unfortunately, since his return, he hadn’t slept much and was starting to live off of caf. It was keeping the nightmares at bay.

The first night he had tried to sleep and managed a whopping two hours of exhausted sleep before the nightmares began. Not wanting to wake anyone, he got up, shook his head to try to clear out his brain, and made for the cargo hold where the kitchenette was for some caf. He had carried his steaming cup to the cockpit and almost spilled it when he saw Ka’li sitting in and keeping an eye on things. She had turned, given him a half-smile, then gestured for him to sit in the chair next to her. The look she had given him next included a raised eyebrow and he had ignored it. She knew what he had dealt with, but he wasn’t about to admit to nightmares.

“I’d like to ask you something,” she had said quietly, her voice sounding better already. He grunted, and she continued, “Black, or do you put stuff in your caf?”

His eyebrows had raised, not anticipating that. So, he indulged her, albeit briefly.

Despite the start they had, he was grateful for the light conversation she offered. They didn’t say much, but it meant a lot to him that night before they both sat in a comfortable silence.

But after he woke up from a brief nap that he didn’t remember falling into, things were different. She was gone from the cockpit, his forgotten caf set on the floor was cold, and the vibe of the ship felt different. She had swapped with Hunter and went for a nap, and now everyone fell into a routine of tiptoeing around him. He hated it. When they finally found a planet to hide out on for a short time, they all just about fled the ship, save for Tech, but Crosshair didn’t want to talk to him. Crosshair didn’t leave the ship, just sat on the lowered entrance and gnawed on a toothpick.

Eventually, everyone returned, tiptoeing around him again. No one talked to him, and even his sister had stopped asking him to join in things. She didn’t ignore him, but he could feel the distance she was starting to add, too. She did bring him a couple of ration bars and a canteen shortly after they all returned, but she didn’t stay.

He sighed and set aside his dinner. He both wanted and didn’t want people around him, so he had no one to blame but himself.

So it was a surprise to him when Omega returned, this time with Ka’li. Both gave him small smiles and sat down with their rations to eat with him. He slowly unwrapped his rations and began to eat, quietly grateful he didn’t have to ask to not be alone.

* * *

Two rotations later, they were still hiding out on this quiet planet, and his brothers’ discussions without him were grating on his nerves. Three of them continued to move around him, but Wrecker had fallen back into his pattern of brotherly love – and it was almost too much.

Crosshair stepped out of the ship, hoping that the dull ache at his temples would dissipate with a little fresh air and being away from the excess… noise of his brothers.

He heard squeals and laughter from off to the side of the ship and internally groaned. Of course he wasn’t going to get any peace around the ship, either. The girls were running around in the taller grasses and playing something. He almost didn’t care to know, but something stopped him and the dull ache started to fade away as he watched them.

Seeing Ka’li with Omega made his heart lurch in an unpleasant way. Watching them play and giggle, he realized it wasn’t a sickening lurch, but one the natborns praised. He didn’t see why they did. It was uncomfortable. But as he continued to watch her, the lurch became less violent and more like a wave. Was it of admiration?

The horrifying realization hit him. He liked her. He liked seeing her play with Omega and watching her smile. Everything she did for the group he liked more than as a friend. That treatment of a jammed finger for Wrecker he liked. The way she fixed up caf for him and his brothers he liked. He even liked how she was making sure Echo was engaging in selfcare of his prosthetics and body parts around the augmentations.

This was a natborn, how could it have come to this? An elite soldier in Clone Force 99 and he was known among other things for having full control over his emotions. Opponents that knew they were up against him specifically tended to react appreciatively for his skill and his intimidating nature. Even his own brothers knew he was severe and unyielding, as Tech had put it.

How could it have come to this?

He thought back to the gentle touches she gave his brothers, ones only mirrored on the day he met her. Ones he hadn’t had since.

More thoughts came to him. Medical she applied when needed. Listening to his brothers talk and contributing thoughtfully, and in less serious occasions, with a joke or two. A funny joke or two.

He shook his head, watching her heft Omega onto her back as Omega pointed at something in the distance and Ka’li responded by looking puzzled, but amused. There was nothing that he could see in the distance, so the playfulness she responded with caught him, too. Omega whooped and Ka’li took off into a sprint. They made it a distance before they started to spin and she set Omega down, both of them falling into the grass and giggling together.

“What are they up to?” Wrecker asked, an amused smile on his face. Crosshair jolted, but hid it in a spin on his heel and a scowl on his face.

“Playtime, apparently.”

“Aw, man, I’m missing it!” Wrecker started after them, then stopped. “C’mon, Crosshair. You’re coming, too.”

“I think not.”

Wrecker’s hand clamped down on his arm and pulled him along, despite his protests. The girls looked up, grins on their faces, and Crosshair felt that lurch in his chest again. It was also that moment he noticed they had started to put meadow flowers in each others’ hair, the little pink flowers complimenting Omega’s hair nicely and making both of them look like they belonged in some sort of fairytale.

Wrecker practically shoved Crosshair to sit beside Ka’li and then sat on Omega’s other side, them flanking the girls.

He didn’t look at her, at first, only the flowers amidst the grass.

“Hi guys!” Omega greeted exuberantly. “Want to play?”

“You know I do!” said Wrecker.

“No,” said Crosshair.

“For your sister, Cross?” asked Ka’li with a small smile.

Crosshair sighed dramatically and gave it a second. Of course he wanted to spend time with her and Omega. He wasn’t a pushover, though. After a healthy second, he nodded. “Alright. What are we playing?”

Hadn’t Tech said he was unyielding? What was happening to him? A pretty smile was all it took? Was that it?

As Ka’li stood up, still smiling at him, he knew. It wasn’t just any pretty smile. It was hers. And he was beginning to wonder if it was one he would walk to the edges of the galaxy for.

Something in him was beginning to say yes, and he knew it was that lurch from earlier. Yes, he would.

Chapter 3

Tags: @crosshairsbabygurl, @starrylothcat

#tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 15 days

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Hell Hath No Fury (16/?)

Okay, I know I said I would alternate updates between this story and It Started With a Kiss, but after the way I ended the last chapter, I really felt this one was calling to me more than the other one, so I’m going to update this one with this chapter, and then hopefully do It Started With a Kiss.

Thanks to everyone for the responses to the last chapter! I know everyone is concerned about our couple having their first fight, but…it was time. At this point they’ve been dating officially for about a month and a half or more…so the newness is still there but it’s not as much of a honeymoon period as it was. And both of them are passionate people. Plus Castle just canNOT help but say stupid things without thinking around her sometimes…and those things get him into trouble more often than not, lol.

Because a lot of people commented on Jim’s sense of humor (positively, might I add!), I want to point out my headcannon for where Beckett inherits certain qualities. Jim has always come off as a little more soft-spoken and level-headed…I think Kate gets her practicality from him. I think Kate gets her dry sense of humor and ability to throw rapid-fire banter, sometimes loaded with innuendo, back at Castle from her dad as well. But I think her tenacity, her fiery personality, her heart, her need to dig her heels in, and (most importantly for this chapter) her temper comes from her mom.

All that said, I still don’t own Castle.

xxxxx

Kate had given up on trying to sleep somewhere around 5. Instead, she had gotten up to shower; she looked through the door that led from the bathroom into the guest room and clenched her jaw when she saw Castle sleeping soundly and heard him snoring lightly. She closed the door louder than necessary and locked it to make sure he couldn’t get in. She was also intentionally louder than necessary as she showered and got herself ready for the day in the bathroom. She had stewed over his words and his decision to sleep in the guest room all night, and coupled with the fact that she hadn’t slept well, she was angrier with him now than she had been the night before.

By the time her dad joined her downstairs in the kitchen, it was 730, and she’d already had her first cup of coffee and was working on a crossword puzzle in pen. “Good morning, Katie,” he greeted, taking in his daughter’s appearance. The fact that she was already completely dressed and her hair was still air-drying despite the early hour was odd to him. His daughter was an early riser as an adult, he knew that…but he’d expected her to be lounging in bed with her boyfriend and not sitting fully dressed at the kitchen island doing a crossword puzzle. “I take it Rick doesn’t share your affinity for mornings?”

“Morning, Dad,” she looked up from her puzzle with a small smile. When he mentioned Castle, her jaw clenched slightly as she turned her attention back to the crossword she was working on.

“No,” she stated simply. “And I don’t care what he’s doing this morning.”

Jim raised an eyebrow slightly. He recognized that tone from his daughter; something had happened between the couple after he’d gone to bed, and she was still upset this morning. He wouldn’t press, though; if she wanted to talk about it, she would. “How about I make some breakfast?” he suggested instead with a smile.

“That would be great, thanks Dad.”

She had finished the crossword she was working on, and just as her dad was fixing his and Kate’s plate with bacon and eggs, Castle appeared from the guest room…which did not go unnoticed by the older man.

“Morning,” Castle mumbled, raking his hand over his face and through his hair. He moved toward Kate out of habit for a good morning kiss.

Before his lips could land on her, she simply slid off her seat on the stool and moved away from him toward the coffee machine without a word, earning a frown from Castle.

Jim watched this interaction silently. The whole thing reminded him so much of the way his wife had treated him when she was upset with him over something. “Good morning, Rick. There are plenty of eggs and bacon if you would like some breakfast,” he offered with a smile.

Castle watched as Kate made two cups of coffee, and then frowned when she kept one and handed the other to her father, completely ignoring his presence, before returning to her seat at the kitchen island with the plate her father had made for her. “Thanks,” he replied, clearly deflated now that he realized his girlfriend was every bit as mad at him now as she’d been the night before.

The older man fixed another plate and a cup of coffee, handing it to his daughter’s boyfriend with a sympathetic look. “So, Rick, do you have another Nikki Heat book coming out this fall?” Jim tried to start a conversation with the man.

“Uh…yeah. Heat Rises should hopefully be out in September or October. I’m waiting on my publisher to send me back the final edits for me to review. As long as I have them submitted by the deadline, the book should be released in September. Obviously, given the recent events, they are being unusually lenient with the deadline. But I’d like to have the edits done so the book can release as scheduled. Otherwise promotional travel for the book will probably extend closer to the holidays than I’d like.”

Jim nodded. “And you always travel to promote your book releases?”

“To some extent, yes,” Castle explained. “This is the third book in the series, so it’s not like the launch of a new series. Nikki Heat already has a dedicated group of fans, so there are some talk shows planned, some book signings. There will be a release party in the city, but there won’t be as much pomp and circumstance surrounding the release as there was when I launched the series with Heat Wave. And it won’t be a lengthy tour…at least in terms of me being gone for long periods at a time. Alexis will still be in school in the fall, and I won’t leave her for that long. So my publisher and publicist will work out a schedule to send me to several larger cities for a few days here and there over the course of a couple months, probably mostly on the weekends or for no more than a couple days at a time where I fly in to a city one day and fly back the next. It’s not necessarily ideal, but I insist on being there for my daughter, even if she is practically an adult.”

“That’s very commendable,” Jim nodded. “Katie told me that you’re a great father.”

Castle smiled at that. “What else did she tell you about me?” he asked, earning an eyeroll from Kate as she finished her breakfast silently.

“That you’re generous and kind. That you’re a good man. But with Katie, it’s also about what she didn’t say. Just the way she smiles when talking about you, that genuine smile of hers I haven’t seen in years…”

“Yeah, well that was before I remembered how much of a jackass he is,” Kate interrupted, carrying her dishes to the sink.

“Kate, can we talk about last night?” Castle finally sighed, gently taking her elbow.

The same fire from the previous night flashed in her eyes when he touched her, and she jerked her elbow away. “Don’t,” she said angrily.

“I’m sorry…” he tried.

She crossed her arms and gave him a glare. “For?”

“Uh…everything?”

She clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes, pushing past him to go toward her bedroom. He tried to grab her hand as she walked by only to have her spin on him and angrily shove her finger into his chest hard. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed angrily, her finger poking his chest once more for emphasis before spinning on her heel and walking to her bedroom, slamming the door.

Castle stared after her, gently rubbing the spot on his chest she had forcefully poked. Jim came up beside him and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. When Castle started to head for

the room, Jim gripped his shoulder a little harder and shook his head. “You don’t want to talk to her when she’s that angry.”

Castle stopped and looked at the older man. “I don’t?”

Jim shook his head. “You don’t.” He gave the younger man a slight smile. “Take it from a man who’s been on the receiving end of that temper more times than I can count. Talking to her now will only make it worse. You’ve got to ride out the wave of anger first…let her get it out of her system. She’ll be ready to talk eventually.”

Castle studied the man. “Kate’s been that angry with you?”

“Nope. Her mother,” Jim told him with a chuckle. “Katie inherited her temper. So trust me, I know exactly what you’re going through right now. The first fight Jo and I had, she didn’t speak to me for almost a week.”

“What did you do?”

He smiled slightly at the memory. “I said something insensitive…that I didn’t even realize was insensitive at the time. But I said a lot of stupid things around her; it’s difficult to get your brain to function properly around a woman who drives you crazy.”

Castle sighed. “I know the feeling.”

“Once I figured it out, I tried to talk to her…only I ended up putting my foot in it even worse and pushing her buttons even more…which is why I’m stopping you from going into that bedroom right now. You go in there, you’re poking a hornet’s nest. She won’t hear anything you say; she’ll only give you enough rope to hang yourself. Take it from a man who hung himself a few too many times. Wait her out.”

“Patience is not one of my virtues,” Castle admitted, staring at the door as though it would make Kate reappear.

Jim chuckled. “You better figure out how to make it one in a relationship with Katie. Otherwise you’re going to be quite miserable, because I can promise you with her temper and strong willed personality, this will not be the last fight you two have…especially if you plan to go the distance with her,” he added the last part with a raised eyebrow, trying to get a read on the writer’s intentions toward his daughter.

Castle turned his attention from the door to the other man at that. “I love your daughter. I can assure you, this is not some casual fling with her. I’m in this,” he answered the man honestly.

“Then I suggest you learn patience. Loving Katie means playing a waiting game sometimes,” he smiled, giving Castle’s shoulder another squeeze.

Kate threw open the door to the bedroom and walked huffily toward the closet to grab her leather jacket. “I’m taking my bike out. Do you need me to pick up anything?”

The question was directed at her father, but Castle opened his mouth to make a reply. “No, Katie, we’re good. Enjoy your ride,” Jim quickly answered before the other man could get a word out. Once the bike engine roared to life outside, Jim gave Castle a smile. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll show you around the woods and to the lake. Nature is very calming.”

xxxxx

“You know, I asked Katie to bring you up here with her,” Jim told him as they walked toward the lake.

Castle studied the other man as they walked. “So she didn’t invite me just to invite me,” he nodded his realization.

Jim laughed softly. “No. I doubt she would have invited you without my suggestion. Katie doesn’t typically introduce me to a boyfriend this early into a relationship. I only met Josh a couple of times when he joined Katie for one of our lunches at the diner. But she doesn’t bring them along when she and I schedule time together here at the cabin. I’m honestly surprised she brought you, even with my suggestion,” he admitted. “So not only did she bring you around much sooner than she typically does, she brought you here. You’re obviously important to her.”

He let that information sink in. Kate didn’t bring boyfriends around her dad unless it was more serious. And even then, not to this extent. That spoke volumes to him about how she felt about him, and he felt even worse about making her upset. “Why did you ask Kate to invite me?” he asked curiously.

“I wanted to thank you for saving her life. You took a bullet for her, Rick. She would have been shot…or worse…if you hadn’t been there. You made sure I didn’t lose my only daughter. I’ll never be able to repay you for that,” Jim told him seriously.

Castle stopped walking to look at him seriously. "It's not necessary to thank me, or to repay me." He knew from a father’s perspective how Jim felt, because he knew how he would feel if it were Alexis. But he also was a man in love with the older man’s daughter. "I would do it again to save her,” he told him honestly. It was a fact he was pretty sure would be a hot-button topic between himself and Kate if and when they discussed it, but he absolutely would. “I’m her partner; I’m always going to have her back. And even if I weren’t…I love her. I would do anything…anything…to keep her safe. I would die for her.” That was another topic he felt would be a hot-button topic should it come up in a conversation with Kate. “But, uh…maybe don’t tell

her I said that last part?”

Jim nodded. “I think your recent actions speak for themselves, Rick. You don’t know how much that means to me to know how far you would go to keep her safe.” He smiled slightly then. “Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me. I won’t say a word to Katie about the last comment you made. But you know how smart Katie is…I’d be willing to bet she already knows how true that last statement of yours is. And I’d be willing to bet she returns the sentiment. However, that’s a conversation for the two of you to have with each other.”

Castle winced slightly at the thought of another, most likely more serious fight than the one they were currently in the middle of. “I think I’ll wait until she’s no longer so angry at me before bringing up another topic that will also have her anger directed at me,” he stated. He began walking down the path again. “Your daughter is the most remarkable, extraordinary woman I’ve ever met. But she’s also the most maddeningly frustrating woman I’ve ever met.”

“She’s exactly like her mother in that regard," Jim chuckled. "I was married to Jo for almost 25 years. We were friends for 3 years before we ever dated. And those are words I have always associated with my wife,” he told the man. “It takes a strong man to love a woman like that. A man who knows when to push her, when to support her, but also when to let her be herself and have her independence. From everything Katie has told me, I think you fit the bill, Rick. Just don’t let her push you away. Katie has a bad habit of running sometimes when someone gets too close. Keep showing up for her, and I think you two will be just fine.”

“I can do that. I will do that," Castle smiled. "She’s worth it." Because aside from being a father, being loved by Kate Beckett was the most amazing thing he’d ever experienced. He was going to make this work with her, no matter how often he pissed her off by saying or doing something stupid; he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.

xxxxx

Kate didn’t return to the cabin until late that afternoon. When she did, Castle was relieved to see that she seemed a great deal calmer than when she had left, but he was heeding Jim’s earlier words about giving her space until she was ready to talk. His eyes followed her as she returned her jacket to the closet and moved through the cabin, giving her dad a hug and having a conversation with him in the kitchen about dinner plans before disappearing into the bedroom to change from her riding boots into a pair of more comfortable sneakers.

It was difficult, but Castle remained in his spot on the couch, feigning interest in the TV instead of rushing to her, but he managed. His eyes did meet hers for a few moments before she told her dad she’d be outside on the porch if he changed his mind and wanted help with dinner. She gave Castle another look before heading out the door.

When he didn’t move from his spot and only stared at the door after her, Jim gave a chuckle.

“Son, that look was your cue to go talk to her,” he said from his spot in the kitchen as he started preparing dinner.

Castle was off the couch in an instant now that he had seemingly been granted permission to talk to her and try to make this right. He went outside quietly, smiling as he watched her leaning against the railing of the porch. “Can we talk?” he asked cautiously, his voice soft and uncertain; it was possible she’d still shut him down, he knew.

“Depends on what you want to talk about,” she stated simply, her eyes trained on the view of nature in front of her.

Her voice was level and calm, so Castle took this as a positive sign that he could continue. “I’m sorry about last night, Kate,” he told her as he moved to lean against the porch railing next to her. “I’m sorry I was hesitant to touch you.”

“That’s not what I was so angry about,” she told him, turning to look at him.

“It’s not?” he asked. Seeing the look in her eyes, he quickly continued. “It’s not.” He thought back over everything he’d said, when exactly she’d gotten so angry. “I’m sorry I implied that your feelings or hesitancy about intimacy around my family are or should be different from mine around your father,” he tried again. When she didn’t stop him, he figured he was pretty close, so he continued. “Or that there is a double standard for us…because there isn’t. And that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” she asked him.

He was quiet for a moment, resting his forearms against the railing. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I was kind of…not myself yesterday. From the moment your dad walked in on us, I…I just…I couldn’t seem to say anything right or think clearly…” he trailed off with a shrug. “I’m a father too…and I just thought if the situation were reversed, and it were Alexis…I know how and what I’d be feeling and thinking, and I just kind of…freaked out,” he looking at her with a small, apologetic smile.

“Ya think?” she arched an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t one of my finer days.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed with him. She was quiet for a few moments before continuing. “It kind of felt like a slap in the face when you said being around your family was different than being around mine…like my feelings didn’t matter, or that our families are different,” she admitted softly.

He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Kate…your feelings matter. I’m sorry that it came out the way it did, and I know it’s a poor excuse, but I still wasn’t thinking clearly last night. I never meant to hurt you or upset you. And I never meant to imply that our families are different. For the record, if it had happened at the Hamptons and been my mother or Alexis who had walked in on us in that position yesterday, we wouldn’t have been doing anything sexual either,” he tried to explain. “It was the way we were caught…it didn’t matter who caught us. My reaction would have been the same. And I’m sorry I made you think otherwise. I promise…there is no double standard, and no difference between our families,” he assured her. “How you feel matters to me. You should expect the same behavior from me no matter who we’re around.”

She gave him a small smile then. “I’m sorry it seemed like I was trying to seduce you last night; I was just trying to get you to relax, and touching you usually relaxes you,” she apologized.

“I don’t think anything was going to get me to relax last night,” Castle admitted with a chuckle.

“And I’m sorry I got so angry. I didn’t sleep much last night…I was too upset. And this morning when I saw how peacefully you were sleeping, even snoring…it only made me more angry. I’m sorry I kind of kicked you out to the guest room,” she wrinkled her nose up slightly as she apologized.

He returned her smile. “Does that mean I’m allowed back in your bedroom tonight?”

“As long as you don’t say anything else to piss me off,” she agreed. “Look, getting caught was both our faults. Just because I didn’t think my dad would show up early didn’t mean it was out of the realm of possibility. I should have never let you convince me to have sex in the kitchen,” she admitted. “But it really was a freak occurrence. And yeah…it was awkward. But my dad and I have moved past it…and nothing we do in front of him now will ever compare to what he saw, so can you please just try to relax around him?”

He chuckled softly. “I think I’ve been pretty relaxed around your dad all day. It’s you I’ve been tense around.”

She studied him for a moment. “You’re sure? My dad isn’t making you nervous?”

“On the contrary. He’s actually given me a few tips into dealing with this little temper of yours,” he chuckled. “And a few other insights about you,” he added with a grin.

“Oh God…what exactly did he tell you about me?” she asked, wondering just what information Castle now knew about her that she might have wanted to keep hidden to avoid embarassment.

“Just the fact that I’m apparently dating a model…” he teased with a slow grin.

Kate hid her face in her hands as it turned red. “He didn’t…”

“He did. He even showed me pictures…”

She grimaced. “I’m going to kill him.”

Castle laughed softly, shaking his head. “Don’t be too hard on him. He was trying to cheer me up. And he said my actions saving your life earned me a little glimpse into your past. But that’s all he told me, I swear. Everything else he hinted at, I pretty much already knew.”

She took a deep breath and sighed before wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I just needed to calm down and clear my head. Riding does that for me.”

He smiled, his arms wrapping around her tightly as his chin rested on top of her head. “That’s pretty much what he told me. He told me how much like your mom you are, especially when you get mad,” he told her softly.

She smiled a little and looked up at him. “He talked to you about my mom?”

Castle nodded. “A little bit, yeah…when comparing the two of you.”

“He really likes you, Castle…” she told him softly. “He never talks to anyone about her anymore, except for me.” She wanted him to know how important that was, how special that was.

He grinned at that. “I’m honored. But I’m sure it has more to do with the fact that I made no secret how completely in love with his daughter I am,” he told her. “Even when she’s pissed at me.”

She rolled her eyes and raised up on her toes to kiss him softly. “Yeah, well his daughter is completely in love with you too…even when she’s pissed at you.”

He smiled and kissed her slowly then, his fingers gently brushing along the soft skin just underneath the hem of her shirt when she deepened the kiss, pulling him closer against her.

The door opened, then, and Jim appeared. “Dinner’s ready whenever you two are finished making up,” he said in an amused tone.

The two lovers broke apart at the sound of his voice, but kept their arms around each other, Kate hiding a giggle in Castle’s chest. “We’ll be right in, Dad.”

Once the door shut, Castle did release a soft laugh. “You know, I honestly used to think it was

just my mother who had horrible timing. But I’m realizing that it must actually be a parent thing.”

She laughed and pressed one last soft kiss to his lips before pulling out of his arms. “Come on, before he starts flashing the porchlight,” she told him, tugging him inside the cabin after her.

xxxxx

I know this was a little longer, but I really wanted to put the make-up scene in this chapter and show that Castle was finally able to relax a little so that they can enjoy the rest of the time here at the cabin, hopefully.

As always, I look forward to all your comments, and really appreciate them! I love logging in and reading them all!

#castle #caskett #richard castle #kate beckett #castle fanfiction

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