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cleoluvrr · 5 months

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high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) III

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, corporal punishment, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide, kook!reader

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in spite of your refusal, rafe decided that the two of you were going shopping. it was the last thing you wanted to do, but rafe had an obsession with showing you off to everyone who had working eyes.

ironically, he didn’t hate when men looked at you–at least not while he was around. he loved it. he got a rush from watching other guys ogle you and know they could never have you. you hated public affection, but he loved to kiss you or walk around with his hand dangerously low on your back wherever you went just for wandering eyes.

fancy dinners, midsummers, the country club, charity events; anything that he got parade you around like a prized showhorse. you were sure rafe only took you to those things just to rub it in his father’s face. the child with a reputation of being a drug dealing deadbeat had a smart, well-mannered, soft-spoken girl hanging off his arm everywhere he went. one with reputable parents and was pursuing a college education. it made ward red in the face to know that someone like you was committed to his son, and it made your boyfriend feel overjoyed.

today was no different–not at first.

the last place you wanted to be was in a shopping center filled with rich kids and tourons, but rafe insisted that he wanted to buy you new clothes for the rapidly cooling weather. fall was in full swing and he refused to have his girlfriend walking around town in out-of-season fashion. it made no sense to you; rafe never cared about fashion being in or out of season, but you didn’t feel like putting up a fight.

the exhaustion of pulling your clothes on and off repeatedly was starting to overcome you. your skin was sticky and itchy from the hot fitting rooms, your feet were aching from the mary janes squeezing against your toes, and all the noise was overstimulating you.

usually, you wouldn’t complain. you would just suck it up until rafe decided to take pity on you and bring you home with pounds worth of shopping bags that you didn’t even want in the first place. it was just something you had to do and there was no use in fighting him on it.

this time, however, you weren’t in any mood to be pulled around by rafe beneath the fluorescent, sterile lights of a crowded mall.

after the second hour you began huffing and dragging your feet. you were sure rafe noticed, but he said nothing; you were still going along with it enough for him to leave it alone. it was hour three that you actually began to put up noticeable resistance. still he said nothing.

you hoped that your incessant whining would annoy him enough to take you home, but it was of no assistance.

your shoes clicked against the linoleum floor loudly as you stomped behind your boyfriend, jaw clenched and lips jutted out in a glossy pout. rafe’s fingers laced through yours as he led you around, paying no mind to your silent tantrum. you exhaled again, feet planting firmly into the ground as you tugged your hand away from him.

that was what made the blonde finally turn back to face you.

“i wanna go home, rafe.” you folded your arms across your chest as you said it, eyes wide and glaring up at your boyfriend just a few steps away.

he rolled his eyes in response, tongue in cheek. he was clearly annoyed, but you continued pushing anyway.

“we can leave soon, baby.” he reaches for your hand again but you step back to avoid his grasp. a pair of blue eyes squint at you in reaction to your act of defiance.

“don’t ‘baby’ me.” you snipped at him. “i wanna leave now, rafe. i’m tired–i didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”

he reaches for you again silently, his silent response only managing to irritate you further. you smacked his hand away before it landed on your waist.

“don’t fucking touch me!” a few people nearby turned their heads in your direction, your raised volume capturing the attention of passerbyers. “you’re not even listening! i just said i wanna go home now, we’ve been here long enough and i’m fucking irritated.”

rafe hardly seemed moved by your outburst, but his calmness was deceiving to the average onlooker. looking down at the hand you smacked away, his head slowly raised to meet your eyes with a look that had you struggling to collect saliva to wet your dry mouth.

the two of you held the tense contact for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds. nodding at you, he moved to walk in the opposite direction towards the mall’s entrance. his strong hand snatched you into his hold as he passed by you, long legs leaving you stumbling behind him as he stalked through the center.

rafe’s anger was radiating off of him in waves, so strong that anyone passing by could feel the heat filling the air. he never looked back at you once, but you felt as if he had a second pair of eyes in the back of his head that left your skin boiling.

though his demeanor was calm, the bone-crushing grip he held on your hand as he dragged you through the mall was enough to know you were in for it.

you, on the other hand, couldn’t help the chill that ran through every layer of your being. it was hard to tell if your heart had stopped beating completely, or if it was beating so fast that you couldn’t differentiate each thump of it against your chest. your mouth had gone completely dry and the irritation that once filled you was now replaced with a heavy cloak of dread.

reaching his dark colored truck, rafe opened the back door to place the shopping back in the back seat before slamming it shut. the harsh sound made you flinch but rafe paid it no mind as he dragged you to the passenger’s side. your lips were tucked into your mouth tightly as you eyed him warily, the blond man tugging at the handle to reveal your seat in the car.

the drive to his house was as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. he didn’t turn the radio on like usual, forcing you to sit in silence as you traveled to your destination. it was five minutes in that you realized you weren’t going to your own house like you requested. the realization made your stomach drop. you knew that it meant nothing good was going to happen once you stepped out of the car.

the driveway was empty when the two of you arrived at tannyhill, neither rose or ward anywhere in sight as you approached the large estate.

your footsteps were light and hesitant as you trailed behind your boyfriend, shoes barely making a sound as they landed against the old floors of his family’s house. the feeling of dread intensified the closer you got to rafe’s bedroom. you weren't sure what would happen and the feeling of unknowing unsettled your stomach.

“y’know…” rafe finally broke the silence between you two as his bedroom door clicked shut. “i do so much for you.”

sitting the shopping bags down in the corner, rafe takes slow steps towards your frozen figure. you sniffed nervously and cleared your throat in response. he places a warm hand on your face when he reaches you, the soft gesture not matching the fire in his eyes.

“i do so much for you. all i ask you to do for me…is show some respect.” his pink tongue pokes out the side of his mouth to wet his lips before retreating. “isn’t that right?”

“yeah…” the single word came out just as wobbly as you felt. he nodded at you, eyes flickering down to your bobbing throat as you swallowed dryly.

“‘yeah…’” he mocked your unstable voice. “so–tell me why you think it's okay to talk to me like that? is it ‘cause you don’t respect me?”

you shook your head against the palm he held against your warm cheeks. his gaze was unrelenting and you felt like you were gonna be sick.

rafe already had you on thin ice from going to the cut last week. he was still mad about you blatantly ignoring his request, and this was only another stroke of a hammer to a frozen lake. he hated feeling like you were questioning his authority, but it felt ridiculous to you that your boyfriend thought he had any authority over you as a grown woman. that never mattered to him though; what he says is law in his eyes and if you disobeyed that then you had to deal with the consequences.

cursing at him in public had to be one of the dumbest things on planet earth, but your overstimulated mind couldn’t handle thinking about what could possibly happen. it didn’t quite dawn on you until he started dragging you through the mall, but by then it was too late to fix it.

he had a short fuse and you’d lit it with your thoughtless actions.

“i was just tired, rafe, that’s all.” you pouted up at him in hopes that he’d feel some sympathy for you rather than whatever had his bright blue eyes turn a dark shade of navy. “i didn’t mean to disrespect you. i just wasn’t thinking and it came out mean, i’m sorry…”

“you wouldn’t have to apologize all the time if you just…started thinking, huh?” his hand retracted from your face just a couple inches before reconnecting harshly. his palm stung against your skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to serve as a warning. “fucking answer me.”

“no, i wouldn’t. you’re right,” the warm tingling of your cheek let you know there was no pouting your way out of this. “i was being dumb. i’ll do better, rafey, i promise…”

manipulation was wrong, but what choice did you really have? despite rafe being quick to anger, his soft spot for you was a weakness you’ve learned to use to your advantage over the years.

when you looked up at him with pitiful, teary eyes and used that cute nickname for him in that little voice that pulled at his heartstrings, how could he stay mad at you? how could he reprimand you when you were being so sweet, so docile?

you knew very well that he was wrapped around your finger even if he did have the upperhand in the relationship, and you would absolutely play on that when you needed to.

like right now.

“baby…” rafe sighed at your wet eyes, demeanor softening at the sight. he thumbs over the skin of your cheek where he struck just you moments earlier in a soothing manner.

looking down towards the floor you begin picking at your nails, the glossy french tips occupying your line of sight instead. it was something you always did when you were nervous, but this time it was only for show.

“i’m really sorry.” if rafe were so close he wouldnt have heard the words leave your mouth. you prayed to whatever deity was watching over you to let the act work; rafe’s punishments were nothing you wanted to be on the receiving end of at the moment.

rafe exhales again before removing his hand from your face. pulling you into his chest, he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head amidst your embrace. if it wouldn’t completely jeopardize the situation you’d jump for joy. you melt into his arms, your own limbs moving to wrap around his lean torso. his hand reaches up to stroke over your head sweetly as he speaks into your scalp.

“go lie on the bed.”

you tilted your head up at him in confusion. his softened eyes started down at you expectantly before glancing pointedly at the bed a few feet away. your feet carried you to the frame hesitantly, brows coming together as you pulled yourself up on the mattress. you’d barely settled before rafe was right there with you, his soft lips capturing yours in an embrace.

a sound of surprise on your end was swallowed by your boyfriend as he kept your lips connected. his hand came up to cup your jaw, using his thumb to pull your chin down and give him access to the pink of your mouth. you felt his tongue roll over yours gently a few times, the wet sound of saliva mixing filling your ears.

there was nothing rough about it. even when he nipped at the flesh of your puffy bottom lip, he would take it in between his own and take away the sting of it. his air mingled with yours, and the taste of him almost distracted you from what got you here in the first place. he was good at that–distracting you.

so good, that you don’t notice the sneaky hand traveling between your bodies.

you jolt when a pair of fingers lands between your legs, ones that were not your own, and traces over the thin fabric of your underwear. rafe stopped you from pulling away, the hand on your chin moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. it was hard to focus on reciprocating the kiss when you were trying to stop yourself from pushing your hips up into his slow moving hand.

the feeling of him ghosting over your panties had you whining involuntarily, face heating up with embarrassment after the sound escaped your dry throat. rafe pulled away at the noise, a small smile grazing his lips as he watched you from above. you didn’t even notice that you were grinding into his barely there fingers, desperate for him to give you something more. it had been weeks since you touched yourself, and the last time rafe touched you was before you tried to break up with him.

“you’re so cute…” rafe spoke softly against your parted lips. a breathy chuckle escaped him when you frowned at him frustratedly. “stop pouting, it’s not gonna make me go any faster.”

despite him saying that, you feel him apply more pressure to your now pulsating clit. the friction of the fabric separating his fingers from your bare skin felt good, but not good enough to satisfy you for long. he stroked you from the bottom of your clothed slit all the way to the very top of your pussy before traveling back down and repeating the action.

the slow, tantalizing circles around your attention–seeking bud made you feel just as miserable as you felt desperate for him to continue.

rafe’s eyes scanned every inch of your face; the way you trapped your lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet, the way your big, glossy eyes stared up at him, how your breath hitches when he applied the smallest amount of pressure. there was no hiding anything from him, not when both of you could feel the arousal leaking through the thin, pink fabric that kept your modesty.

he chuckled breathily when you brought a hand down to meet his wrist. you were sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him in closer.

“what is it, baby?” rafe asks curiously. he raises a dark blond brow at the soft whine that slips from your mouth, the answer not satisfactory enough for him. “know how to cuss me out, right? your mouth works just fine–use it.”

you blinked at him slowly, the snippy response on the tip of your tongue being forced down with the saliva gathering beneath the pink muscle.

“can you…” the words were shaky as they left you, partially due to the teasing fingers spreading your wetness through your underwear. “c-can you touch me…please?”

rafe never made you ask him for anything. he always knew what you wanted, and he was more than willing to give it to you. you were a shy person and that timidity didn’t suddenly disappear when you two started being intimate with each other. it was hard for you to open up to him in that way, and he always made sure that you felt comfortable with him.

if he asked what you wanted, it was normally just teasing. he never really expected an answer and your mousy whimpers were enough for him to keep going. this was not something you were prepared for.

the blonde tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion. the way his digits were pressing into your entrance over the material made your lips part to allow a puff of air to escape.

“touch you?” he said. briefly his eyes flicker down to the hand between your legs being hidden by the fabric of your skirt before returning to meet your eyes. “am i not touching you?”

“but–i…” he was touching you, so you couldn’t argue against that, but he knew that wasn’t what you meant. “you are but th-that’s not...i mean really touch me.”

“but i am ‘really’ touching you?” you pouted at him, eyes straining as you tried your hardest to prevent them from rolling. “you want more?”

rafe made no moves to oblige to your request when you started nodding your head frantically. instead he squinted at you, blue eyes burning against your skin fueled by his irritation.

“y’know, you’re being kinda…ungrateful, don’t ya’ think?” his tongue sneaks out to moisten his pursed lips. “i’m being so nice and you aren’t even thanking me?”

the hand not occupying the space between your legs travels to take place on your face, his strong fingers pushing in on your cheeks to squish them together roughly. you could feel the pads of the digits digging into the hardness of your teeth and it made you wince from the pain.

his fingers hook beneath the fabric of your panties and move them to the side. the cool air blowing against your newly bare skin was barely noticeable when all of your focus was on your boyfriend sliding through your slick folds. rafe’s face remained stoic even when you released a borderline pornographic moan from the sudden skin to skin contact, his grip on your face preventing you from hiding the sounds of pleasure.

he’d barely touched you and you were practically leaking; it was embarrassing. it’d been forever since you felt relief and he could tell, especially when the sticky mess was all over his fingers. you wanted so badly for them to sink inside and graze against your sensitive, gummy walls, but they never went any deeper than grazing against the entrance.

“i know what m’girl wants, what she needs–” rafe’s voice is soft but he looks the very opposite. the one-eighty almost gave you whiplash; he was being so sweet just a few minutes ago and now he looks just as agitated as he did on the ride home. “i know what you want, baby, i promise…”

you have to force yourself to not chase after his retreating hand with your hips. the loss of contact brings your mind out of its fuzzy, dazed state, bare pussy exposed to the blasting air-conditioning.

his thick digits are glistening in the light and covered in your arousal, strings of the sticky substance connecting his fingers together as he examines them in front of your face. with the hand on your face he forces your mouth to open wider, the flavor of your excitement coated the pinkness of your tongue. the sudden intrusion makes your mouth water reflexively and a sound of protest makes its way out.

“but what you need, is to learn how to be fucking grateful for what i give you.” rafe drags his fingers in and out of the moist coven of your mouth, making sure to thoroughly cover your tongue in the slick that was collected on his fingers. “you should be grateful that i even touched you at all instead of shoving my cock in that nasty fucking mouth.”

you almost gasped at the vulgar language but it was interrupted by his fingers shoving themselves deep into your throat. he was unmoved by your gagging, his face getting so close to yours that your noses touched. you could feel stray tears starting to run down your face and leave wet trails in their wake.

watching as he gathers a pool of saliva in his cheeks, you could do nothing to stop him from allowing it to fall into yours. you feel it land in the back of your throat where his fingers were and flinch. the taste of him joins your pre-release in being fucked down your clenching throat by his fingers, your incessant coughing and gagging no deterrent to him.

in fact, he finds some joy in it. he chuckles at the sound of your struggling, eyes focused on the wet mess created by your mouth.

“but you don’t even deserve that…my dick is too good for you. filthy ass mouth needs to be cleaned before i’d ever give it to you. ” his blonde locks fall in his eyes as he shakes his head in disapproval. “you know what–get the fuck up.”

pulling his fingers out of your mouth completely and releasing your face, he snatches you up to your feet. he drags you to his bathroom, one of his hands flicking on the lights while the other digs into the flesh of your bicep.

you watch as he opens the medicine cabinet above the sink and slams it back shut, a white box visible in his hand from the mirror. he releases you for a moment to rip the packing open and reveal a brand new bar of soap. a state of paralysis overtook you from where you stood, eyes following him silently as he cut on the faucet. his gaze is fixated on you through the reflection of the mirror as he allows the bar of soap to foam up underneath the water.

rafe pulls you close, not giving you any chance to escape as he traps you against the bathroom counter with his back against your chest.

“open your mouth.” he says sternly. when you don’t follow instructions, his free hand reaches up to force your jaw open. “i said open your mouth!”

the bitter taste of dial disturbs you, the oval shaped bar scraping against your teeth as it’s shoved into your mouth. a muffled sound of rejection is silenced by the soap occupying all of your senses. you watch in the mirror as rafe holds both you and the foamy bar in place.

“‘i just wasn’t thinking, rafey, i’m sorry.’” the mocking words were a repeat of what you said earlier. “yeah, you are sorry–but i bet you’ll start thinking now.”

it felt like an eternity that he held the bar between your lips. when he finally pulled it away, you immediately leaned forward to spit out the substance. rafe was quicker than you, though, his large hand smacking against your lips to prevent you from ridding your mouth of the residue. your hand flew up to his wrist in an attempt to remove it but he doesn’t budge, his palm firm in its placement.

“no, you’re gonna keep it in that dirty fuckin’ mouth.” his voice was harsh in your ear, more annoyed than empathetic towards your desperate squirming. “you think some tears are gonna save your ass? not this time, baby…bet you’ll remember to watch how you talk to me, huh?”

nodding frantically, you plead with your eyes in the reflective glass before you. it was getting hard not to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth and you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle the harsh taste of filmy, anti-bacterial suds.

you filled your mouth with handfuls of water as soon as he released you. no matter how many times you brought the liquid to your lips to rinse the residue away, it was all you could taste. rafe remained stiff at your back, the heat of his body radiating against yours as he observed you judgmentally.

“remember how that shit tasted before you ever talk to me like that again, alright?” rafe all but spits the words out at your hunched frame over the faucet. “next time…i won’t be so nice.”

you glance up into the mirror and follow his back as he exits the bathroom. straightening up to your full height you’re met with the disheveled state of your reflection, dry tear stains over your cheeks and chapped lips left behind to show for the mercilessness of your boyfriend. the counter beneath fell victim to the crushing pressure of your fingers as your knuckles strained from the tightness of your grip.

sniffling, your tongue lolled over your chapped lips to moisten them before retreating back to its place. your throat bobbed as you forced the saliva down your throat, the sound of your gulping audible in the silent bathroom. you could hear rafe was shuffling around the bedroom a few feet away, footsteps traveling back and forth as he went through the shopping bags to presumably separate his stuff from yours.

rafe hadn’t done something like that in…in forever.

the last–and only–time it happened was because you called him out of his name. you could suddenly remember the taste of lavender scented hand soap being scrubbed across your tongue by his angry fingers as he cleaned the words out of your mouth. the way your stomach turned when you would accidentally swallow the liquid every time he pushed too far down your throat. how he treated you like a petulant, misbehaving child deserving of corporal fucking punishment like it was the 1950’s.

you’d nearly forgotten that even took place–maybe because your brain decided it was a memory that had to be blocked out in order for you to stay with rafe after it occurred. you wish it had remained at the forefront of your mind so you wouldn't end up in the position again.

splashing water onto your tearstained face, you wipe away the mess before warily joining rafe in the bedroom on the other side of the doorframe. the end of the mattress was occupied by his body, the back of his head being the first thing you see.

“come here.” his voice was softer than it was earlier but it still startled you, heart beating through your chest as he beckoned you towards him.

you were suddenly reminded of the wetness between your thighs as you approached him. the way your folds slid against each other beneath your ruined underwear as you took hesitant steps in his direction. it made you feel dirty–even after being gagged with a bar of soap.

pulling you between his legs, rafe rests his arms around your waist as you stand before him. he stares up at you apologetically, almost, eyes soft and bright as he toys with the hem of your sweater. your arms hung awkwardly by your sides, stiff and unsure of where to go.

“you know i just want you to do better right?” he asks. “i’m going to marry you one day, y/n, and my wife can’t talk to me like that…especially not in public. you understand why i had to do that right?”

you say nothing. it feels as if you’re on autopilot the way your head nods, the movement almost a reflex you’d learned just to appease him.

“i can’t keep letting it slide anymore, baby. you’ll just keep doing it and i can’t let everyone think i’m–i’m a pushover…’cause i’m not. i don’t want people thinking i can’t handle my girl–you get that, right?” he nodded his head and you followed his movements, still on autopilot. “you help me be better too, y’know…i just wanna do the same for you, okay?

“okay.” the single word came out so softly you weren’t sure if he heard it. your hands came together to pick at your nails, the slightly grown-out french tips falling victim to the nervous habit.

rafe unwrapped his arms from around your waist and pulled your hands apart as he took them into his own. the warmth of his palms thawed out your freezing fingers, blood rushing back into the tips. his lips ghosted over your knuckles as he blew hot air over them and rubbed the coldness out of them. your body had focused on keeping your organs warm over your extremities, poor blood-circulation a symptom of the persistent anemia you just couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“i love you so much that…th-that i don’t even know how….” he stumbles over his words. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, collecting his thoughts before speaking again. “i do what i do because i love you, not because i wanna hurt you. i’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose, so don’t ever think that…okay? do you understand?”

you believed him, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do.

truly, you believed he didn’t do anything to hurt you. you knew that he never really had any bad intentions with his actions. rafe was irrational, short tempered, and had never seen what a healthy romantic relationship looked like in his life.

even with all of his flaws, has never hurt you just for the fun of it. he was mean sometimes, sure, but he was like that with everyone. actually hurting you has never been on his agenda, which is probably why you allowed yourself to stick around so long before. however, most of the things he did were reactionary to losing control. it was one of the few things he lacked in his life and he hated when the little he had was taken away from him.

you were, quite frankly, the only stable thing he had.

if anything were to threaten that stability he would lose his mind. he would do whatever it takes to eliminate that threat; even you. he couldn’t lose you, not when you were all he had. his dad treated him like a disgrace, sarah barely liked him, and sure he had friends–but if he didn’t have money or status, would they stay with him?

you’d seen rafe at his absolute worst, but you never left. when he barely treated you like a human you stuck around because you saw something in him that no one else did. he knew that even if he left, you’d still take him in with open arms and love every part of him. you understood him in a way nobody else could, and he so desperately needed that.

violence and wealth is what his father uses to maintain control over him and everyone else, so that’s all rafe knows how to do. that’s what he was taught, and it’s hard to unlearn when it works so well.

you’ve seen the things he has done to other people that have crossed him, and though he loved you to the ends of the earth, he would have no problem doing the same thing to you. he made good on his threats to the people that have done him wrong. you knew this first hand because it was you that washed the blood of his hands and bandaged his knuckles. you’d seen the dents in his golf clubs and the scratches in the paint of his car that looked an awful lot like fingernails. you never question it because getting involved in the world of drug dealing rich kids isn’t something on your list of priorities, but you were well aware of what he did to people.

he knew scaring you would keep you around, so that’s what he does. keeps you in a constant state of fear. even if it meant giving you a mouthful of soap.

“i understand.” you dropped your chin lower to look him directly in the eye. his long lashes brushed over the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open and shut. “i know you’d never hurt me on purpose, so don’t worry about that. i love you…and i’m sorry.”

rafe sighed heavily–out of relief or exhaustion? you weren’t sure.

opening up your hand to reveal your palm, you watched as he brought it close to his face to place gentle kisses over the skin. you felt him press his lips against each section of your hand from the bottom to the top, no area left untouched. turning it over, he repeats his previous actions. each knuckle on your right hand is left tingling by the pink, pillowy flesh.

“you’re so perfect for me…my perfect girl.” he whispers loud enough for you to hear, eyes opening up to stare back into your watchful gaze above him. “you’re gonna be my perfect wife, too; i know it. gonna put a ring on this finger right here–”

taking a hold of your forefinger, he places a kiss there in the same manner he did your other fingers. he keeps his lips there longer; the intimate action makes your stomach do a flip and your heart swell. you’d felt so many emotions today that you wanted nothing more than to turn your brain off–but he made it so impossible.

“and make you mine forever.” rafe finishes the sentence after pulling away. he laces his fingers into yours and pulls you in with his freehand on your lower back. “everyone’s gonna be so jealous because they can never have you–could never be you.”

even though it killed you to admit it; you wanted it just as much as he did. well, probably not as much–but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you couldn’t see yourself with him forever. the idea of him putting a ring on your finger put a smile on your face even when you tried your hardest to suppress it.

fear wasn’t the only thing keeping you around.

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chxrrydrxp · 2 months

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ok so i'm so in with your theme rn and i loved your after car with jason drabble but what i really came here to say imagine poor jason todd realizes he's in love in dick's girlfriend. he doesn't say anything but he knows he can treat you better and be better for you. he knows dick cares about you but he's bad for you because he'll never fully love you but believes he can. so he watches you from afar, trying to sweet in small ways like helping fixing your car and stuff. he watches you and dick fight, break up and of course make up till the point he's fed up of watching dick play you because he's knows dicks cheating and he knows dick isn't trying to hurt you but its not fair. poor jason he doesn't want to be a rebound he just wants to give you the love you deserve.

I'm really about to break jasons pretty heart and staple it back together with this fic. apologies for the wait! I got too excited and decided to write a series about it 🥹

I'll release it chapter by chapter 🤭 and you're a genius I love ur brain 🧠

and fr dick damn near slept with every dc character that man is a whore. I'm still tryna figure out what excuse imma give him for why he is a serial man whore

all jokes aside, I'm gonna have some much fun with this.

𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒾𝒹𝒹ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉

Jason Todd x (Dick's Ex! Fem!) Reader:

chapter 1

chapter 2

warnings: this series will get heated eventually, and I'll just put a warning on those specified chapters.

this might be a long series, depends how much yall want it 🤭

Loud rain poured against Jason's window. He laid against his dark wood bed frame while reading a book. As he flicked through thin pages, the sound of you and Dick arguing could be heard from across the hall.

He wasn't exactly trying to eavesdrop, but he could make out certain sentences like “why's her name still..’. He sighed, growing more and more tired of the constant back and forth between you two. The conversation slowly moved from the room into the hall, and the argument could almost be heard throughout the whole manor.

“Dick, I cannot do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of being confused about your feelings for me!” He could then hear Dick's annoyingly condescending voice. Another tired sigh escaped Jason's lips as he ran his fingers tiredly through his dark strands. He rolled off the bed, put on a loose white tee, and slipped on black house shoes.

Pulling the door back, he wasn't even noticed by the two of you until his deep voice rumbled through the hall. Even as a quiet, “The hells’ all the commotion, I'm tryna read damn it”, his voice caught your attention. You felt slightly embarrassed. But the anger just wouldn't let up. “Sorry Jason, just go back to your room,” Dick pleaded, leaning against the wall with a frown. Jason rolled his eyes at Dick's continuous attempts to sound like an older brother, and his eyes flickered to yours.

Noticing your red eyes and a tear of anger falling down your cheeks, his jaw relaxed and he almost looked concerned. “You alright?” His soft voice coaxed you out of your bubbling fit of anger. “Yeah...I'm okay…I'm just gonna go home..” Your eyes stuck back to the floor and then you walked away, leaving the two brothers alone. Dick began to walk away, only stopping in his tracks at the mention of his name.

“Dick…you can't keep doin' this man-” Dick spun around shooting a cold glare at him. “Doing what? You think I want to hurt her?” Jason's eyebrows furrowed. “You're not doing a good job of proving me wrong.” Dick walked away.

You dropped your keys on your marble console table, falling onto the couch with a sigh. You knew he wasn't right for you. This cycle of toxicity would go on and on forever unless you stuck your foot in the ground. The repeating doubts about your relationship circled your mind almost daily. You and Dick had been together since late middle school days. You went everywhere with each other and attended every dance together. You were both practically attached at the hip. You had everything in common and could get lost in various topics for hours.

But, that connection had seemed so far away. So long ago. Like a distant memory. The romance in the relationship felt like it was fading, but neither of you was ready to let it go. And it puts a strain on your relationship, even without romance.

You curled up on the soft sofa, bringing your knees to your chest and feeling stinging tears well in your eyes. You knew it was bad for you. God that's all you ever thought about. But it hurt too much to even consider ending things. He was so familiar.

You don't know how much time has passed by of you being stuck in a constant loop of repetitive thoughts, but a knock on your door shook you out of your trance.

“y/n? It's Jason, can I come in?” You quickly wiped your eyes with your shirt and straightened yourself out. “Be right there!” You cringed at that obvious wavering of your voice. You reached the door, opening it slightly so he could only see your upper half. Your head was leaned downward as a half-assed attempt to hide your tear-stained face. “Hey,” was all he said, with a faint sheepish smile. You lazily nodded at him. “Need something?” You'd hoped you didn't sound angry at him. “Well, I came here to ask you the same thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a familiar habit of his. “Come in.”

(yall I cannot think of a title omg)

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #ceri drabbles #jason todd smut #jason todd x fem!reader #dick grayson x reader smut #ceris asks #red hood x reader #pining prompts #dc red hood #pining #Jason todd series

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ewanmitchellconnoisseur · 3 months

Text

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙧𝙪𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧"

Today I'm thinking about Tom Bennett not giving up on making you his and how badly he wants you...

Tw: Talk of: Smut, Oral Sex (f receiving), virginity loss

Next Part >>

Word Count: 819

Struggling to process how badly Tom wants you.

You've been Miss Goody Two Shoes since primary and he couldn't stand you then yet somehow you currently plague his thoughts and mind. Every thought, moment and breath is for you.

It all started for him when you came back to town. Moving back in with your parents across from his place. You left school early to help take care of your dad who had gotten very badly sick and the weight of bills was stressing your mum. Not to mention the breakup you were going through at your Uni. It would be nice to not see your cunt of an ex every day.

Tom's breath caught in his throat as he saw you leave that car. You looked...different. Whatever you were doing was working. You moved with confidence now versus the uncertainty you did during secondary.

Tom had walked over and helped you bring your stuff upstairs. He had tried to make a small move on you a couple days later in a pub but you quickly turned him down.

"Still a good girl are we?" That was the only thing he said to your rejection before walking away with a stupid grin on his face.

From then on Tom was everywhere. Walking you home after work, helping you carry groceries. If anything was broken in the house he would come over and fix it. Tom quite literally glued himself to your side.

"You aren't getting rid of me, love. So just give in." The truth was you had a crush on Tom a long time ago. Back in primary and secondary, he tormented your brain. Your diaries were all full of "Mrs Bennett" and hearts. But as he got older and started getting in trouble with the law you knew it would only lead to heartbreak. And to hurt you more he had flirted with almost every girl in your year except you.

If Tom didn't want you then why would he now? You already had an answer drawn up in your head: he's bored. Everyone has moved on and gotten older and Tom is still here, he won't want you long-term. He just wants a pastime.

So you didn't give in. You chased him off whenever he made a move but internally screamed at yourself. You wanted him so badly. You touched yourself to the thought of Tom Bennett. His long and slender fingers, how they would reach spots that are too high up for you. Or how you saw the print of his dick print through his pants one day and knew it was big.

Tom also did the same. He imagined his hand was your warm cunt and how it would feel for you to be all wet over him. He imagined taking your virginity more times than he could count. Since you had arrived back he often woke up with a boner and had to stroke himself off to the mental sounds of your voice moaning his name.

His hand quickened and his hips bucked upwards. He imagined you bouncing on his dick, your tits moving with the rhythm. How he could feel you clenching down on him. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he fucks you so good. Your nipples in his mouth and ass in his palms.

His thighs flexed as his thoughts grew more lewd and vulgar. You'd fit against him like a puzzle piece. He'd love to have you on your side, his arm hooked under your leg as your head rests against his other arm. He'd whisper words of how good you feel, and you take him so well. He loves the idea of you being able to do nothing about the pleasure. You just have to lie there and take whatever he gives you.

Fuck how would you taste? Your pussy would probably taste so fucking good. What he would do to have your wetness all over his lips and dribbling down his chin. Your legs shaking as he'd draw orgasm after orgasm out of you.

"Y-yes. Fuck!" Your name spilt off his tongue as he cummed all over his torso his dick laying against his stomach slowly softening. "This girl is gonna be the fucking death of me." He was always painfully hard, always horny. Just seeing you had his dick standing up.

Unbeknownst to you Tom liked you back in school. But you were a good girl, too good. He didn't want to be the one to soil you or ruin your innocence. He knew you liked him and yet did everything to avoid you. Got himself involved with all your friends and specifically not you. Stopped hanging around your house and stopped walking you home from school.

But now? Now you were back, and single. And Tom will be damned if he lets you slip out of his fingers this time.

"You can't run forever"

A/N: This was just something I wrote while in the library when I should be doing my University Essay 😀 😭

Let me know if I missed any other warnings. I def feel like I did.

Taglist: @thought--bubble , @valeskafics

#ewan nation #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewan mitchell fanfic #best fanfic #tom bennet fanfic #tom bennet fanfiction #tom bennet x reader #tom bennett

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purple-writer8 · 17 days

Text

Long Story Short - ACOTAR

“And he’s passing by, rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. And he feels like home, if the shoe fits walk in it everywhere you go.”

warnings: war, war injuries, past relationship tension, new mating bond, self doubt, angst (but like not a lot), allusions to sex

1.9k words

Part 2 to Closure

Masterlist :)

You fought in the Winter Court battle along with Thesan and the Dawn Court’s Peregryn legion. You were a skilled warrior, trained by Rhysand himself— you used to love training, now you despised those memories.

Looking into the mirror in your bathchamber, you flinched as your fingers grazed over the purple bruises forming on the side of your face. It wasn’t pretty, it was horribly gnarly looking. A Hybern warrior had given you a hard blow to the face, beating you to the ground. If it wasn’t for one of the Peregryn warriors, Thesan would have probably needed to plan a funeral for you.

It was all a blur. One day you were mourning Rhysand and your failed romance, the next you were fighting in a war alongside him and all of the other courts. You had told Azriel that you did not care to make amends, and you meant it. But this was for a greater good.

A soft knock came upon the bathchamber, making you snap out of your haze and exit to find your brother standing there. Thesan looked miserable. Your brother was a protector, ever since you knew reason, and this war— the casualties— took a steep toll on his mental health. “Why are you here?”

He was supposed to be back in the war camp with everyone else. You only left because you did not wish to heal and sleep amongst Feyre and Rhysand. The wounds in your heart still needed time to heal.

“Azriel is hurt.” Thesan looked distraught. You could not explain the way that your heart plummeted at those three simple words. For some reason, it made your heart ache— the thought of Azriel hurt. “It’s his wings. I could not heal them… they are not the same as Callan’s. Will you try?” Thesan asked, and instantly you nodded. Your healing abilities were good, almost as good as his. You could try.

Your brother grabbed you and in a blink of an eye, you were winnowed away.

A chill ran down your spine when you winnowed into Azriel’s tent. He was screaming, Rhysand holding him down as he writhed in the bed— his wings shredded in a horrible manner. You felt yourself freeze, eyes wide— it was like you could feel his pain— and you would do anything to stop it. You would rather take on his pain than let him feel it.

Rhysand was there too, but for the first time ever, you didn’t even glance at him. No, instead you rushed to Azriel, kneeling besides him. There was something in your heart, something that made you strain, that broke you— all because you saw him in pain.

He stopped his thrashing when your hand reached for his face, his hazel eyes widening by the bruise that overtook your own face. “What happened?” He asked, as if he weren’t the one with shredded wings.

“Nothing. I am fine,” you assured him, feeling like he was truly gravely worried for your wellbeing. His eyes remained on you, searching all over your body for more injuries. “I am not the problem, please sit so I can heal you. Please,” you begged him, feeling like you couldn’t breathe the longer you stared at his wings.

He sat up, and you got to work.

You spent all night working on his wings, and by dawn they already looked much better than when you had come in. Azriel had fallen asleep, and he had slept peacefully for many hours all while you watched over him. You did not sleep at all, you were sick with worry.

“Thanks for coming, I know that you took a harsh beating in Winter,” that velvety voice you had once worshipped whispered from the doorway. To turn and see Rhysand there, in Azriel’s tent, made you angry.

You almost wanted to tell him to leave, but you were in no place to make commands. This was still his camp. “I came for Azriel. He doesn’t deserve this,” you responded bitterly and you meant it.

Ever since that talk the two of you had in your balcony, you had become obssesed with the shadowsinger. For some reason, you could not get him out of your head, even in the battle, while killing and fighting— you thought of him. “Well, I thank you. Thesan was drained after the battle and struggled to heal him… when he said you would do it… I doubted,” Rhys confessed, his violet eyes drifting to his sleeping brother.

“You think I am so selfish that I wouldn’t heal him just because he is your friend?” You asked, and you truly tried to reel in your emotions, but they were too strong for you to control. It wasn’t even about Rhys, you realized, it was about him thinking you wouldn’t help Azriel.

“You can sometimes be selfish, yes.” Rhysand shrugged, and you wanted to lunge foward and strangle him for suggesting you were selfish. He was the epitome of selfishness, and here he stood— accusing you after you came and healed his brother.

You had tried avoiding him ever since Thesan told you the Dawn Court would fight alongside him against Hybern. You tried picking your battles, and decided Rhysand was not a battle worth fighting, yet here the battle stood, picking you.

You decided to ignore the dig, your gaze drifting to the still asleep shadowsinger and asking, “how did he get so hurt?”

“He went to save Feyre’s sister from the Hybern camp,” he replied, and you could not explain the jealousy that surged within you at the mention of Azriel saving that girl.

Those freaks of nature bring more harm to Prythian than good, you wanted to tell Rhysand about his mate and sisters, but once more figured it wasn’t a battle worth picking.

A groan escaped the shadowsinger, and instantly you ran to his side, helping him sit up in bed. His facial expression was one of pain, and you knew taht he was trying his best to mask it. But you knew... you felt his pain.

“How are you?” Azriel croaked, his voice more hoarse than usual due to all of the pain filled screams he let out the night before. You scoffed in disbelief, “me?! I am not the one whose wings were torn apart.”

He winced at the reminder, but still his hazel eyes did not leave yours. “You healed me…” he said in the gentlest of tones, making your heart skip a beat. You frowned, wondering why in all of Prythian your heart was thundering inside your chest.

“Will he heal fine?” Rhysan’s icy tone snapped you out of the trance Azriel has you in. You turned to him and nodded, scowling at the High Lord. “He will heal completely but he will not be able to fly for a while.”

Azriel protested, saying how he felt fine. Though one cold glare from you made him sink back down unto the bed. Rhysand noticed this, how you were able to tame down Azriel with just a look. “For how long?” The High Lord asked.

“For a few weeks, at least. For the health of his wings, he can not fight anymore battles…” you trailed, looking at Azriel with a solemn expression. You somehow knew he wanted to fight, to protect his family and Prythian.

“How is Elain?” Azriel asked Rhysand, and you snarled. You had always been a jealous female, but always over Rhys, never over anyone else.

“Fine. Shaken up but fine, everyone is fine… we will be meeting up later today to discuss some things. Join us, Az…” Rhys’ violet eyes shifted to you, “you may as well.”

“Thanks for the permission,” you mumbled sarcastically.

Rhysand stared at you. A cold, unforgiving glare, then soon after you felt those talons you had once adored caressing your mind. He wasn’t looking for a way in, no, he was reminding you who he was— what he could do. You didn’t say anything, only glared at him as he left Azriel’s tent.

A beat passed and you turned to the shadowsinger, “I’ll get you some food.” You were quick to your feet, and before Azriel could protest, out the tent you went.

You didn’t understand your new and— quite blinding— feelings regarding the Night Court’s shadowsinger. You’d known Azriel for almost a century, and you had never cared for him further than for friendship. And now, suddenly, you felt as if you had been stabbed when Rhysand said he had been hurt because he went to save another female.

Was this your mind’s sick way to get over Rhysand? You stood over a pot of rice that boiled on top of a bonfire, filling a ceremic pot you had found with rice and chicken for Azriel.

Azriel. While you swooned over Azriel, some Ilyrian warrior snatched the plate from your hands and walked off. You shouted an obscenity, but the male’s glare made you shrink back into yourself.

Fuck your life. You looked back to the pot that had been cooking and realized that plate contained the very last of the rice and chicken. You couldn’t let Azriel starve.

You groaned and got some more rice from a nearby sack, throwing it in the boiling pot and letting it cook. A yawn escaped your lips as you watched the rice cook, then a few minutes later— it was ready for him. You served him a big bowl and went back to his tent.

You went inside, only to find Azriel squirming in bed, his large wings twitching uncontrollably. You gasped, setting the bowl down and rushing to him. “What happened?!” You shrieked as you tended to him.

“It’s nothing, really. I just stood up too fast,” he tried keeping it cool, but you knew well that he was hurting. You looked up at his face, and you gasped when you felt it.

A mating bond snapping inside your soul. So strong it almost sent you flying to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” You asked in shock, your chest rising and falling in a heratic manner as you stared up at the Ilyrian male. He looked devastated, solemn as he looked at you. “Im sorry…” he whispered, and you frowned.

“Why would you apologize?” You asked, still reeling from the knowledge of who your mate was. “It is disappointing, I know. To be mated to me instead of who you always wanted. If you wish to reject me…”

“Why would I reject you?” You asked in shock, your mind running an entire marathon as you thought about everything that this meant. Azriel was your mate… Rhysand’s brother was your mate. You had known him for ninety years and you never felt the bond, no… because you were in love with someone else before ever meeting him.

“Why would you accept me?” You reeled from his words, and your heart— you could feel it— begged you to accept him.

Because you thought back to the years you lived in Velaris, to your interactions with Azriel and the Inner Circle.

One Winter Solstice, before Under the Mountain, you and Rhysand got into it— and it was bad— one of the biggest fights you had ever had. You had left the townhouse in a hurry, not even putting on your shoes and coat. Rhysand demanded you to come back, his voice thundering in your mind over and over again. You didn’t. You were so mad, you sat in a small Velaris coffee shop— freezing to death— until Azriel appeared.

He held your shoes and a coat. You wondered if Rhysand had sent him, though he hadn’t— because Rhysand was still ordering you back in your mind.

As you recalled the many times Azriel only ever showed you kindness and gentleness, you took the bowl of rice you had made, handing it to him.

His hazel eyes widened in shock. He looked at the bowl, as if it was the most grandiose thing in the world. “You are serious?” He asked, his tone soft and gentle.

“Please eat, Azriel.”

Two Years Later

Losing Rhysand felt like falling off a precipice. Loving Azriel was like climbing right back up that hill. It was absolutely everything. Your mate was… perfection reincarnated. He swooped in. Just when your life could not get worse— he came in and turned it all around.

You never thought in a million years that Azriel would be, could be your mate. You had pined for Rhysand for ninety years for cauldron’s sake. But now… now you only ever thought of your doting mate, of the male that taught you that love could be something beautiful, something that you didn’t have to beg for or ask for. It was given freely, willingly.

You were currently sitting on your bed, preparing the final touches for Azriel’s winter solstice gift. It was already noon, and he had spent the day with his family in the Night Court as you had asked him to. He had wanted to skip his family’s celebration, but you didn’t let him.

Your relationship with the IC was still difficult, you and Rhysand were not yet completely healed from your ninety year tryst— but regardless of that, you never wanted Azriel to push his family away. Even though Rhysand and him had definitely grown apart.

Rhysand didn’t care about the bond, that was what he claimed. But then he grew hostile, and always sent Azriel on long missions— away from the Dawn Court where you resided, or he didn’t let Azriel visit you. He wasn’t jealous, obviously. He had a mate and now a son. Rhysand just did not think you were enough for Azriel.

You hummed a solstice tune as you fixed up the little gift box, and just as you finished it, your beautiful mate winnowed into your room. You squealed, lunging at him and wrapping your arms around his neck, eagerly kissinng him.

Azriel chuckled, “my angel seems happy to see me.” He hugged you back, despite the flowers he held in his beautiful hands. You nuzzled your face into his chest, warmth and love engulfing your senses instantly. Azriel was your home.

He kissed the top of your head as you pulled away. “How was it?” You asked him, watching as he moved to his dresser, carefully discarding all of his leathers. “Good, but would have been better if my angel mate was there,” he groaned the last part, still upset he didn’t spend winter solstice morning with you.

“Your angel mate was preparing your gift and spending the day with Thesan in the village,” you answered in a chirpy manner. You did not care that he hadn’t been there in the morning. All you cared was seeing him, period.

You watched as he changed his leathers into more comfortable clothing, salivating as you ogled the way his muscles flexed with any sort of movement. After he was done, he turned to you, a smirk adorning his handsome face, “ready for your gift?”

“Are you my gift?” You asked excitedly, making him laugh as he grabbed a tiny box from his discarded coat pocket and strided across the room towards you. Cauldron forgive you, but this male was your religion. “No… well… later.” He said, his voice gentle and soothing as always.

His loving arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you closer into his figure. You looked up at him, smiling as he leaned down to engulf you in a passionate kiss. “I go first,” he whispers as he pulls away and hands you the velvety sapphire blue box.

You squealed and opened it to reveal two sets of keys. You smiled, eyeing the pieces of metal before looking up at Azriel with inquiring eyes. “I bought us a house in Velaris… near the hills…” He trailed off.

He eyed you for your reaction and then his wings twitched in excitement, “and a home here, in the city.” At that statement you gasped.

“What?!” You shrieked, eyeing the keys in sheer shock. He had bought two houses?! For you?!

“We can never agree on a place to live. You don’t want me away from my family, and I don’t want you away from your brother. So I figured… we split our time as we wish… I’ve spoken to both Rhysand and Thesan and they have agreed, we can go and come as we please. We get to live together without sacrificing our lives in our home courts.” Azriel explained, and the way he spoke made your insides flutter beyond remedy.

“You are serious?” You asked in shock, not expecting such a thoughtful and frankly, expensive gift. Azriel nodded, “all I want is to be near you. I will buy a home wherever you want as long as I have you. I know you don’t want me to leave my family… and I would hate for you to have to compromise for me…”

“I… fuck, my gift is so bad.” You cursed, rubbing your temple as happy tears swelled your eyes at the thoughtfulness of your mate. Thoughtfulness a partner had never given you in the three centuries you had lived.

“Angel, you are the only gift I will ever need. You know that. This bond… is everything I ever wanted, and more.” Azriel kissed your forehead as he soothed you. You rested your head on his chest until he asked, “is my gift the leather cuffs I wanted for my armor?”

“Yes.” You groaned.

“Fuck yeah, angel. Cassian will be so jealous when he sees what Nuan came up with.” You giggled at his words and handed him the box.

You watched as your mate eagerly opened and then put on the brand new mechanical cuffs. They were black and blue, and had some features that apparently would make him a more unbeatable opponent. “I feel like this is so bad compared to the TWO houses you just gave me.”

“Sweetheart,” he frowned, “you think I kid when I say my mate is my most exquisite, excellent gift?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, only for him to tackle you to the bed, his wings flaring wide as he peppered your face with sweet kisses all over. “You are all I have ever wanted.”

You laughed gleefully and gave in to your loving mate.

Long story short, you survived.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @wallacewillow0773638 @lilah-asteria

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

I'm All About You | Neteyam x Human!Reader

requested: yes | no - from this request

synopsis: you are a young researcher who came to Pandora to study it, to understand it, but left the RDA as soon as you discovered the endless atrocities they instigated on the planet and the beings inhabiting it. And much like his mother, Neteyam can't help fall in love with a beautiful, brave alien.

wc: 1.4k words

warnings/notes: a wee bit angst, mostly fluff, idk how to write fluff

a/n: i got the origin of the reader idea from a fic i'm working for my own OC from the Cardigan series (coming to you soon, wink wink @uniltaron), and so if you think you've seen it before when you read that one no you didn't ;). anyway thank you for requesting and hope you enjoy x

Na'vi words used: tilor - beauty

"...And he feels like home

If the shoe fits, walk it in

Everywhere you go"

"In Na'vi culture, we say each person is born twice. The second time is when you earn your place among the people, after completing your Iknimaya and Uniltaron." Kiri's deep voice almost lulled you to sleep, as Tuk was carefully braiding your hair, a rite that took hours. In that time, you loved to learn as much as you could, and assimilate the culture that was so different and unknown to you, and yet felt so warm, like a ray of light peering through the clouds.

You and Neteyam met a few months ago. You were one of the new scientists brought on Pandora to study it, to provide the necessary knowledge in order for it become the new Earth, the new home for humanity. You were a young PhD student, who showed promise back on Earth in your advanced knowledge of techniques which would be useful to the team, but your background was entirely different, so you knew next to nothing about this new, beautiful planet. Unfortunately, you became more than a little disillusioned as the harsh reality of what the RDA was really like hit you in the face like a ton of bricks. It turns out with enough hush money and resources, it was easy enough for them to conceal the truth about what they were doing here and how they were doing it. How much murder, how much chaos, how much hurt they unleashed everywhere they went, how their palaces were made of bones stuck together by the blood of the natives and the beings of the planet.

You left as soon as you could, sneaking out in the middle of the night, praying you won't get eaten by a Thanator, hoping you could somehow run into one of the humans you now knew were still residing here, one of the members of Grace Augustin team's, the people you were previously told had died being attacked by the "savage, uncooperative" Omatikaya.

You didn't run into them, but you did run into a man. A Na'vi man that almost killed you, and would have probably been more than justified to do so, but decided otherwise when Woodsprites surrounded you, just like they had his dad some 20 years ago. He couldn’t - it was a sacred sign, and it felt like fate. Instead, he brought you back to the village. You were given a place in the clan and in the adjacent labs when you told Jake Sully, the Olo’eyktan and the most wanted man alive, the truth. He believed you, and the Tsahik believed Eywa’s signs. Since then, you have been learning as much as you could about the Na’vi and the Omatikaya, from anyone who was willing to help you. The Sully kids took a liking to you, and so did Norm and Max. But none of them quite like the oldest Sully - Neteyam.

Ever since your fateful first meeting, Neteyam has been drawn by your presence, so new and different, so intriguing to him. You were the first human he’s met since he was young, the only new human he’s seen that was good, that didn’t want to kill them or harm them or hurt their planet. You left and abandoned everything you knew, everything you thought would keep you safe in order to do the right thing, and Neteyam loved that. He couldn’t help the way his being gravitated to yours, and he couldn’t help falling in love with you. The scientists always said Neteyam was a carbon copy of his mother, and they laughed when they realised that was yet another way in which that was the case. A Na’vi warrior, strong and mighty, with a soft spot for a clumsy, unknowing, brave human.

“There, you’re all done. You’re so beautiful I could cry!” Tuk didn’t cry, but you almost did, as the small girl, who was the same height as you, always treated you so nicely, always welcomed you with open arms and an open heart.

“Do you want to see if Neteyam’s back from his hunt?” You nodded sheepishly, and took her hand in yours as Kiri guided you through the undulating paths of the village. Your Na’vi was getting better, you thought enthusiastically, as you could more easily pick out what some of the Na’vi women sitting in front of one of the tents were talking about animatedly.

“I can’t believe they let another demon walk among us. Her smell makes me want to throw up. You know they are saying the Olo’eyktan’s son will pick her as a mate? How is that even possible? It would be an abomination, like she is.”

Kiri’s eyes snapped in the direction of the offenders as soon as yours fell to the floor, blurred from the tears spilling on the wet ground like endless cascades. You felt yourself withdraw into your own body, as you always did when hurt got the better of you, and your hand slipped from Tuk’s as you turned on your heels and ran back into the tent you just exited, shutting the flap as well as you could, hoping this way, you could keep the people and the thoughts that plagued you out of your life, and your mind, forever.

It wasn’t long before a tall, blue form appeared in your tent, as Eclipse settled in the nature all around you. Neteyam sighed as he approached your body, huddled in a foetal position in the hammock that he slept in most nights, when he wasn’t in your room back in the lab. It might as well be your own hammock, to be honest, and if police were to dust for prints, you would definitely be the number one suspect in its ownership.

“Ma tìlor…” Without another word, he joined you in the hammock, and nestled you in his chest, his hands caressing the skin on your back and arms, the motion calming your nerves and ceasing the booming of your heart. His touch always had the power to do that, and you were grateful. Grateful for him, grateful to him.

“They hate me. The clan hates me.” Neteyam scoffed, rolling his eyes and kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Let them. Vanara, Hiwi and Rìt'e are mean girls, jealous, bitter girls. They have been after me and my brother since they were young, because they all want to be Tsa’hik, they all want the status that comes with being mated to the sons of the Olo’eyktan. You are silly if you think their word or opinion should matter.”

“It does matter, Neteyam! It matters because they’re not the only ones who think that way. The downside of learning Na’vi is that I can finally hear people’s opinion of me. I can finally understand what they say behind my back. And you know what’s the worst of it all? That they’re right!” You burst out crying once more, holding onto him like he was a life jacket in the middle of the ocean.

“Why are you here? Why would you ever want to be with me? Why would you ever ever consider choosing me as your mate? I’m nothing. I’m a human. I won’t be able to bond with you, I’m never going to be able to be born again as one of the people. I’m small and insignificant, and you are everything, and I just -“

You could barely see Neteyam through the now fogged up mask covering your face, but you felt him, his hand willing you to look up at him, his braids falling carelessly in front of his face, his heartbeat strong and rapid in his chest that you were snug against.

“You are someone who left the comfort of your home, everything you ever worked for, everything you thought you knew at the first sign of injustice. You are kind, and sensitive and empathetic to everyone around you. You are brave, and strong. You are capable and skilled, you are so intelligent, and so, so beautiful. Your eyes sparkle brighter than the star you came from, and your smile makes the sun feel dim and dull by comparison. You came to me like in a dream, like a gift from Eywa herself. That’s why I chose you. Because there’s no one else. Because, like my mother, I can’t seem to stay away from amazing, strange, lovable aliens.”

“Now, can we please go to the lab so I can take this mask off and kiss you?”

taglist: @fanboyluvr

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the-ace-with-spades · 10 months

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this is part two of this angsty post about Baby Bradley (you might wanna read it first, just to make sense of this part) - Slider POV

It��s late, too late, when he hears the front opening. He is instantly on alert — Shay’s been sleeping for two hours now, conked out by a whole day at work and cooking up a baby inside her — because it’s too late for visitors.

He almost hits Baby Goose with a baseball bat.

Bradley is taking his shoes off, the spare key they have in the flower pot at the front stairs lying near his backpack. His hands are covered in dirt and he’s looking at Ron with his doe eyes wide.

Everyone says he’s Goose’s mirror image but when he stands there, curly hair getting too long again and messy, with those innocent big eyes and head tilted back, all Ron sees is Carole.

It always makes him melt into a puddle, too.

“Do your folks know you’re here?” Ron will take the dead silence as a no. “How did you even get here?”

Bradley is allowed to take the bus on his own, now that they live in one, stable place and Mav had gone on the three major routes with him — the bus to school, to Ron and Sarah’s house, and to the base.

Ice still insists on driving him around everywhere, just because he is such a control freak.

Bradley’s voice is barely hearable and he isn’t meeting Ron’s eyes as he admits, “I walked.”

They don’t leave that far away — less than two miles — but an eleven-year-old should not be walking around alone on the streets past nine.

Ron takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m going to call Ice—”

“He’s at work,” Bradley interrupts, because of course he does — he always has an answer, growing into the mini Maverick that he is.

“Then I’ll call Mav,” Ron counters.

“He’s asleep.”

“Then you shoulda thought about that before you walked here at one in the morning,” Ron points out before he steps back into the kitchen to grab the phone off the wall.

Midway through the kitchen floor, still in the dark since he forgot to turn on the light, Ron feels a weight hanging onto his pajama sleeve. “Do you have to call him?”

“Buddy,” Ron says because he’s so weak against those big brown eyes but can’t just let Bradley get away with everything. What he did was dangerous. He could have gotten hit by a car, kidnapped, or lost, or—Ron doesn’t even want to think about all the things that could’ve happened.

“I promise I’ll go back home before Mav wakes up,” Bradley pleads.

That’s really not the problematic part in the whole situation. “And what about when Ice comes home and goes to check on you and you’re not there?”

Bradley turns his head away and mumbles under his breath, “He won’t.”

“He won’t what?”

“He won’t do that,” he says, eyes on the floor.

And Ron doesn’t know what it is but there’s just something in his voice, in the way it cracks despite being so quiet, and in his posture, the way he raises his shoulders like a guard — and it’s make something under skin crawl.

“Bradley, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles, turning away from him.

Ron is weak. He is getting bigger and bigger but he is still so tiny it feels like Ron could fit him in the palms of his hands. He looks even smaller, now, coiled up against Ron’s leg like he wants to turn invisible.

“Okay, you can stay the night—”

“Really?”

Ron would scold himself for falling for it, again, but Bradley’s eyes, even with the excitement in his voice, don’t lose the sad tinge completely.

“But only on the condition that I’ll call Mav anyway and tell him where you are,” Ron says, kind of proud of himself for not giving in completely. “And you have to get up bright and early tomorrow—today, so we can take you to school on time.”

He waves his hand, just so those doe eyes go away before he caves in completely.

“Go get your jammies and make those pearly whites—”

“You’re talking to me like I’m five again,” Bradley says and Ron holds back a smile.

“You gotta deal with it, kid,” he says, shushing him upstairs. “Go, I’ll call Mav.”

Ice’s house (and Mav’s, no that he’d call it that, ever, Maverick will never be his brother-in-law, even if they actually get married someday, he's going to be at best a menace-in-law) is on their speed dial as number one.

He’s expected to wait a few minutes on the line, until Mav wakes up and strides huffing and puffing into the kitchen to pick up the phone, but he barely gets the second tone and hears, “Hello?”

“Mav—”

“Slider, this isn’t a good time, Bradley is—”

“—here,” Ron finishes for him. “He’s here, Mav, showed up about ten minutes ago. Says he walked here.”

“What?” Mav spits out. “I was about to call the goddamn police! Ice, I was about to call Ice!”

Ron’ll never admit it but he agrees that Ice probably would throw a bigger manhunt than the police if he found out Bradley was missing.

“Look, he doesn’t want to go home—”

“Oh, hell no, he’s coming home now, I’m getting my keys—”

“I already promised him he can stay the night,” Ron cuts in, feeling a headache coming.

“You can’t promise him stuff like that!”

Ron might be a dad-to-be only, but he can understand why Mav is pissed off. He certainly would prefer if his kid that he thought was missing came back home so he could at least see that he is safe and in one piece and maybe so he can ground his ass but Bradley—there’s just something off.

“What, do you want me to send him home so he runs off again to some unknown place in the middle of the night?”

“Oh, he can try,” Mav says. “Even if he somehow managed to sneak out again, I’ll now know where he is. I’m going to take my chances.”

“I don’t think he’ll come back here again, not knowing I sold him out to you and let you take him back home,” Ron says. He can hear Mav groan into the phone in frustration and he gets it, he really does, but— “He looks upset, Mav, okay, I don’t know what happened but he wouldn’t have sneaked out on a whim, you know that.”

It takes him fifteen minutes and about a dozen promises to talk Mav into letting Bradley stay the night — he knows Mav probably won’t sleep a blink anyway — but finally, Ron settles on making them some tea so they can have a talk about safety and not giving his parents a heart attack.

And about whatever made Bradley act out like that.

He comes back downstairs and the ginger tea is already lukewarm enough to drink — they only have ginger tea now because Sarah is still nauseous despite being well out of the first trimester. Bradley sits down with him at the table, his Spiderman pajamas on, takes a sip and promptly grimaces.

“That’s yacky,” Bradley says.

“Believe me, I know, kid. It was two against one,” he says, feeling sleepy out of a sudden. “Your aunt would bite my head off if I said anything, anyway.”

Bradley still drinks more because he’s a good kid that never complains. Or maybe because he doesn’t want to talk to Ron.

“You want to tell me why you left home so late?” he prompts. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Bradley crosses his legs on the chair — Ice would’ve told him to sit properly but he’s not here so Ron lets it slide. Bradley shakes his head, wordlessly.

“Did you argue with Mav?” Ron tries again. Bradley looks away, at their fridge and the family photos and their collection of sonograms, and shakes his head, eyes not present. It scares the shit out of Ron. “Bud? Did someone say something? Do something, to you?”

“No,” he says, finally, barely hearable. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ron weighs his options. Bradley's always been a kid with lots and lots of emotions but usually, he wouldn't mind displaying them raw — he could push but he isn't sure whether that would help or harm the situation more. He doesn't want to pressure him but he also doesn't want him to feel like he's alone with whatever made him act like this.

“You want to sleep in your room? Or do you wanna sleep with us, today?”

"Could I—" he begins and then closes his mouth. Ron lets him think through whatever is going over in his head, waiting, until Bradley asks quietly, "Could I sleep with you?"

"Of course you can," Ron says straight away, still feeling unsettled, like he's missing something. "Just try not to wake up your aunt, she's really grumpy in the morning lately. Don't tell her that I said that, either."

Bradley’s been—quiet.

The night visits became frequent. Frequent enough that after the fourth time Ice, like the insomniac he is, woke up and went to check on Bradley to find him missing, Mav and Ice bought him a bike. It was safer if he had lights and a helmet on, and the trip to Ron and Sarah’s house took him less time that way. It still isn’t safe but Bradley hasn’t even tried to wake any of them to take him to Ron in a car, like they promised they would, so any alternative was better.

Ron can’t exactly pinpoint what changed aside from how Bradley’s no longer bubbling a mile a minute and how he seems both clingy and unusually detached from them. He’s been staying vaguely around them but never close enough to touch, like he used to.

Today’s been especially strange. Bradley hasn’t even let Sarah cuddle with him after dinner. He helped her prepare the food, quiet and way too focused on tasks for the bouncy eleven-year-old he is, just asking her what to do next and not even humming along to the radio in the kitchen.

Ron, if this was any other kid, would say he is jittery about the parent-teacher meeting and what his folks would hear while talking to his teacher but in all honesty, Bradley doesn’t have anything to worry about — he has perfect grades, and aside from that fight he’d gotten into a couple weeks ago Ice and Mav already know about, he is a sweet, a bit shy kid who isn't much trouble.

Ice and Mav show up to pick him up at half-past eight. Sarah’s already gone for a nap that will turn into nine hours of sleep and Ron and Bradley are quietly sitting in the living room, each reading their own book. Their faces are turned into a grimace from the minute they step in to greet Ron and Mav is observing the kid like a hawk.

Bradley curls his legs closer and gives Ron a very short look, the big doe eyes telling Ron he is about to ask if he can stay the night. Ron shakes his head before he does it long enough he’ll give in.

“Go say bye to your aunt, buddy,” Ice tells Bradley which is a code for an adults-only conversation.

Ron doesn’t like it.

“She’s asleep,” Bradley points out.

It’s the truth, but Mav still hasn’t said anything, just staring at Bradley, so Ron says, “You can wake her up for a minute, she’ll probably want to know you’re going and will give you a kiss goodbye.”

Bradley hesitates, looking between Ron and Ice like they're tricking him into something. He and Sarah didn't have the greatest of starts — she moved to California not long after Carole got diagnosed and was the least familiar face during that hard time, often completely omitted when Bradley sought out adult comfort. It's been getting better and better the more time they spent together, and Bradley's been especially warming up since they told him about the baby — Sarah would talk to Bradley about the pregnancy often, explaining different things, taking him to shop for baby clothes, letting him think of baby names, letting him touch the baby bump. Ron has thought that maybe Bradley finally felt included enough by her to include her in his little trusted family.

Ron sometimes wonders if it's because Bradley knows he'd almost become his stepdad before he and Carole called it quits — they never told him they were together, tried to test it out before Bradley became attached but maybe they hadn't done a good job of it. Maybe when they broke up when it kept on feeling weird with Goose's memory still in both their heads, they should've explained it to him. Maybe he felt like Sarah took Ron away from him and his mom when he started dating her not long after she moved to San Diego.

"You go, bud, you're probably the only person that won't make her grumpy," Ron encourages.

Bradley jumps off the couch and meticulously puts his bookmark in his book and closes it, careful not to crease the pages or the spine — in a mirror image of Ice, because of course — and walks away to the corridor.

They listen until the bedroom door closes behind him, Ice picks up Bradley’s book and puts it in his jacket’s inside pocket, and Ron turns back to the adults-only conversation with a heavy heart.

“He’s apparently been asking about adoption,” Maverick finally says, barely audible.

“I thought you already adopted him. The guardianship was switched to custody after a year, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, he, uhm—”

He doesn't continue and it's scaring the shit out of Ron. He looks like a wreck of a person.

“He’s been asking whether we can give him up,” Ice supplies, voice perfectly leveled, his hands tucked into his jean pockets. Just, expressionless, really.

“For adoption?” Ron asks. Ice nods. “Jesus Christ.”

Even with how withdrawn Bradley's been, he'd have never gone into that territory with his theories.

No wonder Bradley didn't want to say a goddamn word about what was bothering him.

Ice takes a deep breath and says, voice urgent, "Look, he comes to you a lot when he's upset, did he say anything? Anything that could explain where all those questions came from?"

“No,” he denies instantly. “Do you think someone at school could, you know, be a bit too nosy again?”

They had that problem before, in Lemoore, straight after Carole's death and before they moved, when some concerned parents had started asking too many questions about who Mav was and how he was managing Bradley's childcare and who was Ice and why was Ice so involved. It was the whole reason CPS has even bothered to look at Mav's custody agreement and put Bradley in foster care for so long.

“Bradley barely talks to the other kids, still, even if someone’s parents—” Mav stops and his gaze gets all wet and it doesn't go away even when Ice grips his hand. "I don't know."

"Come on, you know it's not—You're doing everything the right way, Mav, he's been through a lot but you could see he is dealing with it now and he's been happy, it's not—"

Ron doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Just talk to him," he says in the end. "He's your kid, just make sure he knows that."

When he looks at Ice, he doesn't know how to react — he's never seen him looking so lost.

"Where's he anyway? He should be back by now—" he grumbles. Maybe actually having Bradley within their range of sight, unharmed and present and not at some strangers house god knows where would make them feel better. "I'll go get him."

Ron walks to their bedroom like a robot, trying to school his expression by to calm so his helplessness doesn't show.

"Buddy, what's taking so long, did you fall asleep too—"

He stops talking at the view he gets when he opens the door — Bradley is curled up around Sarah’s baby bump, his hand under her t-shirt, and Sarah is dozing off again with her fingers in his curls, blinking sleepily at Ron.

"The baby is kicking," he says and he's whispering like anything louder would spook the baby into hiding again.

“I’ll come back in five minutes, buddy,” Ron says, keeping his voice low.

Ron's been baby-proofing the house for what feels like weeks now and Sarah is still insisting it's not enough, finding new boops and beeps to improve. And Ron loves her, really, but he also still works about fifty hours a week and the kid is not going to even be moving much for at least six or seven months after they pop out.

They're certainly not going to let the kid out alone on the terrace for longer than that, he's sure, but he's also sure if he told that he's nine months pregnant wife, he'd be sleeping on the couch.

So he's modifying the terrace, so they have baby doors to the steps and the spaces in the little fence around the elevation is baby-proofed with a bouncy mesh net that their baby can smash their face all they want and not fall off.

It's almost eight already and Ron is still going at it, knowing he won't have the time later in the week but also running on about five hours of sleep, when he hears Bradley's bike rattle on the gravel on their driveway.

"Hey, kid," he says, not turning around from the task and trusting that Bradley is not going to run over Sarah's pansies again. Ron really doesn't want to find her planting new ones while nine months pregnant and he knows she would. "You here for anything in particular or just passing by?"

Bradley stops the bike, getting off and carefully avoiding the flower rows, thankfully. He is walking the thing now, to leave it next to their ugly garden shed.

"I was sick the whole week and now I don't understand my science homework," he tells him. "Mr. Kraig said I should come to the extra classes but we have a test before that."

Ron doesn't look from where he's measuring the stupid tiny fence. "Isn't this something you usually do with Mav and Ice?"

“I didn’t want to bother them.”

“So you thought you’d bother me?”

It’s just a joke — if Ron was a little less tired, he’d have remembered that Bradley’s already been feeling fragile around all the adults in his life and not having the greatest of times in general. He’d have been less snarky or maybe he’d have said nothing or maybe he’d prodded a little bit about why Bradley doesn’t want Ice’s or Mav’s help with homework anymore.

It’s just a joke but he doesn’t even manage to turn around and he hears the bike’s chain rattle as the kid starts biking off god knows where, not looking back.

“Bradley—”

He stands up to go over him but the stupid baby doors are in place and he trips when he tries to jump over them, knocking down the roll with the mesh net. It unrolls on the grass and by the time he's untangled from it all, he can't see Bradley on either end of the street.

"Sarah—" he calls out as soon as he's back in the house. "Call Ice and tell them to call us if Bradley turns up back home."

"What? Ronnie, where are you going?"

He's grabbing his car keys because like hell he's just going to sit and wait.

Bradley didn't say a single thing, just ran out. He's not coming back to them, he knows, and he's not sure how long it'll be before he caves in and goes back home.

He doesn't like it. He doesn't like it all.

He keeps on driving around in circles between theirs and Ice's house, looking out for Bradley's bike anywhere on the road, turning up back to check with Sarah that Ice hasn't called every twenty minutes or so.

It's getting dark when he notices Bradley's bike on Ice's porch.

"I'm going to call Sarah, tell her you're here already," Mav says and he dips into the kitchen.

Instantly, Ron's eyes search for Bradley and he's there, in one piece, in their living room, still getting scolded by Ice.

When he notices Ron and their eyes meet, he looks away, stepping to the side enough that he's well hidden behind Ice's legs.

Ice turns around. "Slider—"

Maybe he's too big, too old, for that, but never for Ron — he grabs Bradley under his arms and hugs him, one hand on his back, another under his thighs. It's as easy as it's always been despite what everyone says.

"Jesus Christ, kid," he blurts out. "You scared the living shit out of me."

"I’m sorry,” Bradley says and his voice is hoarse.

“No, I am sorry, kid,” he says, adjusting Bradley in his arms so he can flatten his cheek on Ron’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear, you’ll never — never, all right? — bother us, I just—It was a bad joke, okay?”

“I know,” Bradley mumbles into his collarbone. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, kid,” Ron insists.

He maneuvers him in his arms, detaches Bradley’s hands from around his shoulders so he looks at him and his eyes are shiny and red, and god, Ron just wants to take it all back, take it all away.

He doesn’t know what is going on with Bradley lately and he isn’t telling them but he wants them to have a safe place in them, he wants him to keep coming to them until he finally lets them help with whatever is happening.

“Promise me you know that, promise me you know you’ll never ever bother us, no matter what.”

Bradley doesn’t reply anything to that, instead saying, “Can you put me down? I’m not five.”

“Bradley,” Ice reprimands and Ron doesn’t care if he has a tone when he speaks to him, he just cares that—

“Promise me you know,” he repeats.

“I know, I promise,” he says.

He’s still not looking at him or at Ice, and he still seems so small, like he’s trying to take the least space he can, but he’s—he’s promising and Ron has to let go off him at some point, as heartbreaking as it feels.

He sets him back down on the carpet and Bradley curls into himself even more.

Ice opens his mouth, probably to continue the scolding and use Ron’s worry as a leverage, but Ron catches his eyes before he says anything. He shakes his head.

Juliette Nicole Kazansky Kerner was born on Friday, just a few minutes after three in the morning, after about twelve hours in labor and delivery.

They've decided early on that it was just going to be the three of them in the delivery suite and then for another twenty-four hours. Ron's mama was coming from Minnesota in about a week and that left just Ice and his little family.

They know the plan so they come in on Saturday, after breakfast, after Sarah slept off the exhaustion and is finally ready for visitors.

There are congratulations and hugs and then Julie crying and asking for food. There is the moment Maverick gets to hold her when she doesn't want to burp and gets her to do just so like it's the most natural thing and the moment after when Ice is looking at him with that smitten expression that Ron used to make fun of, before it became almost constant on him whenever Maverick is around.

There's a moment when finally, Bradley gets a very close look at Julie and stares at her with his mouth open and eyes wide and Sarah asks him, "Do you want to hold her?"

And then he's listening like his life depends on it when Sarah and Mav explain to him how to hold a baby and how he needs to be very careful with her head and not make too many movements not to drop her.

“She’s so tiny,” Bradley says and Ron is pretty sure he's repeated it at least three times now.

“That’s why you have to be really careful with her, buddy,” Ice says, adjusting Bradley's arm so it's holding their little Julie closer to Bradley's chest.

They're safely sitting in a big armchair with a pillow underneath just in case, but Bradley seems to have taken the cautions to heart and is holding Julie's limp head up and coconing her with his arms like it's a mission.

“She looked bigger in Aunt Sarah’s belly,” he says, still sounding awed.

Sarah laughs because truly, Bradley was the only one who could indirectly call her big and not unleash a hormonal wrath.

Maybe he said it too soon because Sarah starts crying instead, her lips are trembling when she looks at the two of them from where she's lying in bed still and next thing Ron knows, there's a waterfall.

She's smiling so he isn't too worried. He gets a whiplash because in less thirty seconds, Ice is crying to, still hovering over Bradley like the control freak he is, and if Ice is crying, that means Mav is not far behind.

Bradley lifts his head from where he was gazing at Julie and okay, Ron is a bit teary-eyed, too, by the time Bradley asks innocently, “Why is everyone crying?”

Those big doe eyes just make him weak. He's just praying he'll have more restraint with his own kids.

The nurse comes in to check on both Sarah and Julie, telling them she's probably going to be discharged tomorrow morning if their obs keep on being so good.

"We probably should grab something to eat," Ron supplies. "There's a buffet nearby."

Sarah had refused hospital food. And he's not going to be refusing her some good food when she's just popped a whole human into the world.

Bradley, realizing that standing up would mean letting go of Julie, asks, “Do I have to go with you?”

“No, but remember Mav is going to be picking your food if you stay and you know how he feels about vegetables,” Ice says.

“It’s fine,” Bradley decides and wow, the kid is really smitten, too. “Can I stay?”

They switch Bradley from the armchair to sitting next to Sarah in bed, just in case, and he's pouting the whole two minutes he doesn't have Julie in his arms.

"That was adorable," Ron says as soon as they leave the room. "I didn't think he'd take so well to her."

“I kinda wish we could have another kid just so he could be a big brother,” Mav says and he sounds like he's still melting inside.

“Yeah,” Ice agrees absently and he sounds so dreamy Ron snorts. “What?”

“Tom ‘I Don’t Like Kids’ Kazansky wanting more kids is never not going to be amusing,”

“It’s different when it’s your kids,” he protests, not ashamed at all.

And Slider supposes it is, at least for Ice because Ice is so good with Bradley, loves him so much, that he sometimes wonders if Ice's aversion to kids was just some way to protect him from heartbreak when having kids seemed impossible, given who Ice tended to love.

"Our three-month check up is on Friday, do you think you will be able to go with us? It's at six."

He's unpacking groceries in the kitchen, late after getting back from work, and Sarah is sitting in her rocking chair, nursing Julie for the last time before they put her to sleep for the night — she's going to wake up at least twice, but she seemed to have faded into tiredness as soon as Ron got to hold her for five minutes.

He's pretty sure he's only got paperwork to do on Friday so he should be fine, but—

“Thought it was going to be on Saturday?”

“Tom mentioned Bradley’s match is on Saturday, I thought you’d probably like to be there, too, so I made the switch,” Sarah says.

“He didn’t say anything about a match,” Ron notes. “Baby Goose, I mean.”

“We missed his last two so I thought we should probably start going to them again,” Sarah explains gently, her voice going quieter as Julie starts to fall asleep mid-feeding again. “He’s apparently banned Ice and Mav from coming because he’s embarrassed when they come, you know Tom is a bit of a soccer mom and—Ronnie?”

He—He feels it again, the feeling that something is wrong, but he can't really explain what is wrong with Bradley's behavior — kids do grow, get embarrassed by parents and uncles and want more independence. It just doesn't sit right with him.

“He didn’t tell me about his matches,” he realizes. It’s baseball season, it’s been for weeks. “He hasn’t slept over in four months, Shay.”

“He’s almost a teenager, he’s bound to start thinking you’re uncool,” Sarah says and it doesn't—

She isn't saying anything that doesn't ring true, Ron himself had those thoughts when he was much younger than Bradley. But it doesn't sit well with him. Bradley's been so off before Julie was born, for months, and now suddenly he seems to be not only fine, but fine without any of their support.

Sarah bumps Julie's nose, putting her shirt back over her arm and grabs the towel to put over her shoulder—

“At least you’ll have this one thinking you can save the world for a few more years," she says. "Can’t imagine how Mav and Ice are feeling right now.”

some people requested tagging so here you go hons: @callsign-hummingbird, @happypopcornprincess, @nearlynadin, @strangelove97, @pollyna, @heartthyshark

i know it's been a long time so let me know if you don't want me to tag you for the next part

#two more parts coming - IceMav pov and adult bradley pov #icemav #bradley rooster bradshaw #ron slider kerner #sarah kazansky #as Ice's sister and Slider's wife #mavdad #icepops #baby goose #top gun #my fics #tw pregnancy & breastfeeding - background #op #charlie writes

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silvervioletvalentine · 1 year

Text

🦋Better late than never !🦋

Pairing: Lance Stroll X Cherrie!

Word count: 8k

Summary: in which they’re best friends. They’re in love . And it’s better late than never to finally admit their feelings. A plan secretly made by a mischievous three year old too.

Lance walked into his best friends home casually, not bothering to ring the doorbell as he let himself in with the key he had. Humming a song underneath his breath as he kicked off his shoes , making a point to place them neatly by the door with the other hundred pair of shoes that she had there . Not taking any chances this time around .

Having leaned his lesson the hard way about keeping his shoes on while walking around her home , which had either marble flooring or bright white fluffy carpet everywhere. Just asking to be ruined with the dirt and mud from the bottom of his shoes.

He had thought that Cherrie was about to actually strangle him when he had accidentally gotten mud on her brand new carpet, days after she had it fitted, after stupidly forgetting to take off his shoes at the door . The number one rule in her home.

Let's just say that he wasn't forgetting to do that again anytime soon.

She was scary as fuck when she was pissed off, absolutely beautiful but deadly. She Had a tongue like a razor blade and her words like a switch blade knife. He wasn't risking getting his ass handed to him again.

Not on such a beautiful , sunny day.

He was just happy to be home and able to see his best friend and her little mini me again. He had missed them while he was away racing and the FaceTime calls and endless texts just weren't enough for him. It wasn't the same as them being there in front of him in person , he missed seeing cherries stunning smile up close and he had missed her little toddlers sass as well . He really had.

When Cherrie had found out that she was pregnant in what felt like so long ago now , you would have thought that it was the end of the world judging by her reaction to the sudden news .

She had arrived at his doorstep while sobbing hysterically as she cried loudly about how she was never going to be able to be a supermodel now , that her life was ruined and that she was never going to be able to live her life and have fun again. She had been a real bad mess, hysterical of the thought of not being able to party and drink till she passed out again anymore.

She was always the life of the party, the fun one. The one that would try anything at least once, the one that Lance had to run around after to make sure that she didn't end up in too much trouble again . to make sure that she got home safely after one too many times of finding her passed out in somebody's garden or bathtub.

Lance had kind of already been used to looking after a child seeing as Cherrie behaved like one half of the time herself , so he wasn't too worried at all. Well, maybe a little bit but not as much as she was.

He had been there for her , always , and that wasn't going to stop just because she had made a dumb mistake and gotten herself knocked up by some random Italian guy while they were on holiday together.

He was just a little bit upset that her first experience of having a child was going to be like this. He knew that she had always wanted to be get married and fall in love before she had a baby. She had told him once that she didn't want her baby to come from a broken family , that she didn't want to have to raise a child alone.

He was certain that was the reason why she had been so hysterical that night that she found out that she was pregnant , like all of her worst nightmares had come true.

Which was why Lance had promised her that she wasn't going to have to do this alone, she had him and he wasn't going anywhere , anytime soon.

How could he? He was in love with her and planned to, sometimes in the future when he grew some balls, tell her how he felt and hope that she felt the same.

Just- not yet. He was still too scared to ruin what they had right now. Their friendship was perfect to him, easy and comfortable , and the thought of losing her if she didn't feel the same way made him want to be physically sick.

So instead he waited and just continued to show her that he would be there for her. Determined to show her that not every man was going to let her down, hoping that maybe along the way that she would notice that he loved her from the way he treated her.

That she would see that he was a fool in love just from the way he couldn't go a day without even hearing her voice , he couldn't sleep without calling to say goodnight. Her voice was the first thing he heard in the morning and the last thing he heard at night and he wanted to keep it that way forever .

Only it might have been more than wishful thinking on his part because as much as Lance loved her, Cherrie wasn't the brightest spark around. Not that she was dumb , she really wasn't. She was just...oblivious. Completely oblivious to people's feelings and how she could affect them by just being herself . She was magnetic.

Lance had once watched her pat a guy on the back after he told her that he loved her at a party, smiling at him kindly and telling him 'thank you! That's so sweet!' Before casually walking away to get herself another drink. Leaving the poor guy crushed while Lance had awkwardly patted his shoulder and told him to join the club. There was a long list of guys that she had accidentally broken the hearts of with her obliviousness. Including him.

Because honestly , he had been more than crushed when she had told him that she was pregnant with some Italian guy that she couldn't even remember the name of. Never mind what he looked like.

But overtime that pain had faded away because he had been there with her through her whole pregnancy. He had held her hair back through all the morning sickness. Bought her all the mint and ginger in the world to help. He had went to every single appointment with her and had his own copy of her ultrasound in his Wallet, he had cried his heart out when they were told that she was going to have a little girl . The thought of Cherrie having a mini Cherrie was too much for him to take in.

He had been there when Luna was born at two o'clock on the morning , getting to cut her cord and pass her to a exhausted Cherrie with tears of joy in his eyes. He had fell in love all over again that night. Little Luna was a exact replica of her mother , same bright eyes and button nose , same pouty lips and a thick head of hair. She had been the most cutest baby that he had ever seen and he proudly let anyone who would listen to him know that they had the best baby in the world.

He had been there through it all with her and along the way it had become their new normal , Lance secretly thought of them as his own little family. He had been right there beside Cherrie , always , watching as Luna grew up from this whiny little baby and into this sassy little three year old , nearly four now too.

He treated her like she was his own daughter , silently taking the roll of a father without them even discussing it. It just all fell so easily into place for them, it felt natural. At least to him it did.

Luna of course knew that he wasn't her biological father but she didn't care, she loved him just as much and every time he came back home he was bombarded with a screaming toddler excitedly screeching his name.

Now was no different . He laughed as he heard her little feet sprinting down the stairs to reach him, dropping his bag carelessly to the side as he walked over to the bottom of the staircase to catch her.

"What have we told you about running on the stairs Luna?!" He exclaimed in worry as she threw herself into his arms without any hesitation. Little arms squeezed tightly around his neck as she giggled happily, beaming at him brightly.

"Lance! I saw you on the tv! You were soooooo fast!" She gushed to him excitedly, she was his biggest fan.

Lance chuckled as he moved her so that she was comfortable in his arms , smiling at the sight of the three year old wearing a glittery princess dress, the tiara sat crookedly on her little head. He had bought her that costume and every other single one she owned too.

"Yeah? You had fun this week with mommy?" He asked her as he took her into the ridiculously large front room and carefully dropped her onto the velvet couch . Putting on the tv and switching to put on spongebob for her, knowing that it was her favourite thing to watch right now.

A few weeks ago she had been obsessed with watching frozen none stop. Lance was just happy that he didn't have to listen to that shit anymore, he was certain that he could speak fluent frozen now. He knew every line and every lyric to the songs because Luna had forced him to watch it with her almost every night , it had been driving him more than a little insane.

Ironically enough , Cherrie always happened to be busy at that time she put it on . Leaving him alone with her daughter with a apologetic grin while he glared after her in Annoyance.

She was so lucky that he loved her because if he was forced to hear that movie one more fucking time... he was going to scream.

But thankfully for him Luna had seen him watching sponge-bob one morning after breakfast and decided to watch it with him too. She loved Lance and she was determined to copy everything he did. If he said he liked something then suddenly she did too.

It was adorable and worked in their favour when they needed her to do something that she normally wouldn't like. Like eating her vegetables. All it took was for Lance to have a plate full of them and the next thing they knew she would demand a plate of them too. Top tier parenting if he said so.

The three year old hummed as she tapped her little fake heels that she was wearing together happily , looking at him with a big grin on her chubby face.

"Yes, but mommy wouldn't let me get another princess dress." She complained to him, looking at him with big puppy eyes, knowing for a fact that he would buy her whatever she wanted with a bat of her big bambi eyes .

She always went running to him whenever she didn't get her own way, knowing fully well that Lance could never say no to her. Despite Cherrie scolding him for spoiling her all the time, he would just counter back that he spoiled Cherrie just as much and that would shut her up quickly . Because it was true.

He was a sucker for the both of them.

Lance had more money than sense and he enjoyed spending it on them. Liked to see them smile with joy and excitement whenever he brought home a new gift or surprise. Cherrie liked diamonds and her toddler liked anything princess related. He never came home without something for them, it was his version of flowers he supposed.

He used to always buy Cherrie a boutique of flowers but then she had Luna who apparently had hay fever now and couldn't even sniff a flower without sneezing. So he got her expensive jewellery instead. It made her just as happy , that was all that mattered to him.

And if he secretly swapped little luna’s plastic jewellery with read gold and silver , well , it was nobody’s business really. He just didn’t want her delicate skin to turn green. He wanted the both of them in diamonds and gold . Was that so bad?

He wanted to give them both the world. But diamonds and princess gowns would have to do for now.

"Maybe it's because your closet is full of them." He told the unhappy toddler matter of factly. They were going to have to turn one of the spare rooms into her own walk in closet soon at this rate.

Luna huffed at him, holding out her hand with a expectant look on her face. "Pocket money." She said impatiently .

Lance laughed loudly at that , looking at the toddler in pure amusement . He hadn't even been there for five minutes and she was already trying to mug him.

"Were you good for mommy while I was gone?" That was the deal. If she behaves herself and wasn't naughty , he would give her pocket money to spend at the mall.

He knew that he would give her it whether she had been good or not but still, it was good for him to try and act parental. As though the three year old didn't have him wrapped tightly around her tiny finger. Just like her mother.

Luna nodded her head rapidly , making a gimme motion with her fingers impatiently. "Yes I was! Promise!" She shouted with a toothy grin.

Lance just sighed and dug his hand into his pocket to pull out his Wallet. "Where is mommy anyways?" He asked her as he pulled out a twenty and handed it to her.

She giggled and hugged the money to her chest happily. "She's in the kitchen eating with her headphones on. She told me not to bother her until she's finished." She repeated her mother's instructions to him quickly. Already losing interest in him as her eyes went back to the tv, giggling loudly at something spongebob did on the screen.

His eyebrow rose in amusement at how Cherrie behaved. She always did this. She told him that she liked to eat her food while listening to music, that it gave her a whole different experience when dining in.

He just thought that she was antisocial and dramatic , having a baby hadn't changed her at all. She was still the same drama queen that she had always been, and he loved it.

She was so out of his league and he knew it. She was beyond beautiful and had been brought up with the finer things in life. A beautiful , rich and confident girl that wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. She walked around with her head held high, long hair always perfectly curled and nails always painted a different colour each week.

She could talk to anyone without any anxiety , another reason why he had always taken her as his plus one to events. He wasn't the social type, he preferred to stay in and not have to talk to people that he didn't know. When she was by his side he knew that could relax and let her do the talking, she had a big mouth and could speak enough for the both of them, and also knowing that she could easily control a conversation and get him out of one just as quick.

They were complete opposites that way. She was a social butterfly who loved partying and meeting new people . He was anti social and only talked to his small circle of friends and he absolutely hated parties , he only ever went to them just to make Cherrie happy.

He was quiet. She was a loudmouth without any filter. He was there by her side to slap his hand over her mouth whenever she was about to get herself into trouble by saying something that she really shouldn't. While she was there to make sure that he got out of his shell a little , making sure that he enjoyed himself even if it wasn't his scene.

She was rash and careless. Lance was an over thinker who planned everything down to a single letter. He kept them safe and Alive, while Cherrie kept him entertained. Their holidays were only ever planned by him now because he knew that if he let her take over, they would end up lost in the middle of nowhere with no way to get back home.

They were opposites but they balanced eachother out. It worked so well between them and Lance wanted this chaotic , dramatic , sarcastic and beautiful woman for the rest of his life.

"Taylor swift?" Was the first thing he said to her as he walked into the kitchen to check in on her, smiling to himself at the sight of her sat ontop of the dining table with her legs crossed. Large sonny headphones over her head as she chewed on a burrito happily.

She gasped and quickly pulled her headphones down from her ears. Beaming at him happily as she held out her arms for a hug.

"Lance! You're home! I've missed you a fuck ton!" She exclaimed loudly as he stepped into her arms and hugged her right.

Burying his face into her neck with a content sigh, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment as he sunk into her embrace . Inhaling her sweet perfume and relaxing against her , having missed her more than she would ever know know.

"God that was too long without you guys." He complained to her. Pulling away to see her face but still keeping his arms wrapped around her waist, admiring her perfectly styled hair and glowing skin.

"You need to come with me next time. Luna would love being there." He muttered to her, squeezing her waist gently as he smiled at her.

Cherrie laughed a little, running her fingers through his hair to fix it for him. Making him sigh in pleasure as she lightly scratched her nails against his scalp the way she knew he liked it.

"Maybe. I'm just scared that as soon as she sees you in that car she's going to tell me that she wants to be a driver too." She told him seriously , admiring his pretty face with a small smile. She then hugged him again just because she could.

He laughed , grinning down at her in amusement.

“Is that so bad?" He wondered.

Cherrie looked at him like he was insane , pulling a face at him. "My heart can only take so much Lance! I'm already going grey every time I see you on the track. I couldn't cope if I had to worry about her too!" She exclaimed . Frowning at him.

Lances face softened at her words , his heart squeezing in his chest. He knew that she wasn't the most emotional of people so to hear her verbally express that she worried for him was nice to hear.

She was always so blunt and acted like she didn't care but he knew that she did. Maybe not about anybody else but she did for him and Luna , they were the only people in the world that she would literally die for.

She liked to laugh off her feelings with jokes instead , hating being vulnerable with anybody , and rarely could they ever have a serious conversation without her getting uncomfortable and making up some stupid joke just to change the subject.

That was just the way she was and Lance had learned to see her love for him through other ways instead.

Like how she always hugged him whenever he was close, not letting go until she was ready to, no matter who they were around .

He felt it in the way she made him his favourite meals without him even asking her to. It was the way that she always kept her fridge stocked up with his favourited drinks and food .

It was the way she filled up his car with gas whenever she knew that he had a long journey ahead of him. Making sure that he had everything he needed while he was asleep.

It was the way she set up a simulator in her spare room for him. The way she constantly praised him even when a race hadn't gone the way he hoped, she was always there to tell him how proud of him she was.

It was the way she made sure to let Luna FaceTime him every night to talk to him, knowing how much he missed the there year old when he was gone . So used to having her attached to him like a baby koala that he could barely cope without her sass and without her nonsense ramblings .

It was The way that she squeezed his hand three times in the back of a taxi . The way she smiled at him without even saying a thing.

He could read between the lines and Cherrie didn't have to tell him that she loved him because he just knew that she did. He could feel it and that was everything.

"You don't have to worry about me Cher." He muttered to her with flushed cheeks. A shy smile tugging at his lips, unable to look away from her. She was just so beautiful and Lance was just grateful to be there with her then.

She was everything to him.

Cherrie scoffed lowly , narrowing her eyes at him "er- yes I do. I could literally not live without you lance. If anything ever happened to you... I'd go mad. You're my best friend." She stated matter of factly. Unashamed.

He looked at her in amazement , touched . "Trust me I know how you feel." He told her simply "if anything ever happened to you or to Luna then I wouldn't be able to cope with it. So we're gonna have to make sure that nothing ever happens to any of us alright?"

She nodded in agreement , smiling as she jumped off the counter top to land on her feet.

"Exactly. Ride or die am I right?" She teased him while holding out her fist to him happily.

He laughed as he fist bumped her, ruffling her hair just to annoy her . Giggling to himself as she kicked him in his ass in retaliation as he walked past her.

"What have I said about touching my hair!" She complained. Quickly following him back into the living room. Leaning down to kiss the top of Luna’s head, her daughters focus never leaving the tv.

Lance threw himself down on the loveseat and got comfortable. Watching her lazily as she pulled out her phone and started typing , absentmindedly picking up a few toys that were scattered around the floor as well.

He looked at her curiously, wondering who she was texting . "do anything fun while i was gone?" He asked her. Yawning.

Cherrie just shook her head no , eyes still down to her phone distracted.

“Not really. Just the usual." She muttered not really paying attention .

Luna's giggle got his attention as he looked over to see the three year old mischievously looking at her

Mum.

He rose a brow at her in amusement, wondering what she was giggling like that for. As though she knew something that he didn’t.

"what's that look for?" He whispered to her.

Luna giggled again, grinning naughtily "mommy has a boyfriend." She said casually as though it didn't completely ruin his mood right there and then.

Cherries head snapped up from her phone as soon as she heard her daughters words, eyes widening in embarrassment as she looked at her scoldingly.

"Luna! I already told you-" she started to speak only for Lance to cut her off.

He looked at her in disbelief , heart dropping to the bottom of his stomach at the thought of her with somebody else.

Oh my god. He had only been gone two weeks. Was that long enough for her to fall in love with someone who wasn't him?!

"Boyfriend? You didn't mention a new boyfriend to Me." He stated with a frown, trying not to lose his shit right there and then , crossing his arms over his chest as he sat tensely in the chair. No longer relaxed.

Cherrie rolled her eyes , shaking her head at the both of them. "I don't. It wasn't serious. Just a blind date that Miranda set me up with." She told him quietly , fiddling with her fingers as she waited for his reaction.

He scoffed "Miranda? Oh yeah cause she knows all about good guys doesn't she? How many times has her fiancé cheated on her now? Six?!" He exclaimed moodily. All of his earlier happiness gone , just like that.

She looked at him with a frown , hands on her hips as she tried to not shout at him. Then she looked over to her mischievous daughter and pointed over to the stairs sternly .

"Go play with your dolls Luna please." She instructed her firmly . Not wanting to argue with Lance in front of her.

Luckily Luna knew when to listen to her and quickly scurried off up the stairs to her playroom without any fuss. Still giggling to herself like shit stirrer she was. Cherrie waited to hear her door slam shut before speaking up again.

"I don't know why you're so upset. You're the one that was joking around about me turning into a Virgin again!" She reminded him in annoyance.

He looked at her in disbelief "yeah! As a joke! I wasn't telling you to go out with some random guy Cherrie! Who even was he?!" His voice rose as he felt his heart break in two.

Though he knew that he should have expected this to happen sooner of later he supposed. Was this his karma for not telling her how he felt for all these years? Cause it sucked and he honestly felt a little sick at the thought of her finding someone new to love. That was supposed to be his job! Not some random , stupid guy!

Cherrie looked down at him with a scowl , not happy to hear the judgmental tone in his voice.

"He's called Jake and actually he wasn't that bad-"

He laughed humourlessly "oh I bet. You like him so much that Luna apparently knows about him too?" He gritted his teeth. Not knowing who to be more pissed off at. Cherrie for letting Luna see this guy or himself for never telling her how he felt .

She glared at him , shifting uncomfortably on her heels. Regretting putting them on now. She had been hoping that maybe they could go out for a nice dinner to celebrate him being back home. But apparently not.

"That was an accident. She saw him dropping me off at my parents because my car broke down. That's all." She told him, annoyed .

Lance wanted to scream . He looked at her blanky and shook his head .

“You're forgetting that I know you Cherrie. Why didn't you tell me? We speak every night and not once did you mention some guy. Or going out on a date." He snapped at her. Hating being caught so off guard like this .

He wasn't prepared for this and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. God. This was a nightmare. All of his worst ones coming true.

She groaned loudly at him "because I knew you would react like this! You never like the guys I hook up with! Even when we were younger!" She accused him, getting just as pissed off as he was.

He felt his face pale, stomach sinking. He swallowed thickly . "You slept with him?" It came out weaker than he intended . But he truly felt sick at the thought of her with somebody else. Trying not to burst into tears right there and then.

She froze for a moment . Her hesitation was enough of a answer for him making him bury his face into his hands with a loud groan of misery. Grimacing deeply like he was in physical pain.

"Fucking hell." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly "I can't believe this." He breathed out shakily , no longer able to look at her .

Cherrie felt her chest tighten , clutching at the necklace around her neck as she felt guilt weigh heavily down on her even though she had every right to do what she did.

He wasn't her boyfriend . She was aloud to hookup with other people. So why did she feel so bad?

She inhaled deeply and tried to stay calm, reminding herself that she hasn't done anything wrong. Lance didn't like her like that. He had never once even showed a interest in her romantically . She was allowed to move on. She had to.

She couldn't just be in love with her best friend forever . That wasn't healthy. Especially when he didn't feel the same way.

Because if he did he would have told her by now. They had been friends for years and spent almost everyday together . He had helped her raise her baby for nearly four years. There was no way that he would ever return her feelings , he never said a single thing.

"I don't know why you're acting like this. I'm allowed To have sex Lance. It's completely natural! And I was safe if that's what you're worried about!" She scoffed defensively "I'm on the pill and I used condoms-"

He frowned even louder , shoving a pillow over his face in misery. "Fucking hell! That's not- that's not the point! These guys only want to use you Cherrie-"

She rolled her eyes at him , irritated , huffing moodily . "I know. I wanted them to use me. I was using them too! It's no strings attached. We match , we meet up. Have a few drinks and a good fuck . That's all. It's not serious-"

He threw the pillow off of his face and sat up quickly , narrowing his eyes at her , getting more upset by the minute .

"Are you telling me that this has been a regular thing? You've been meeting up with strange men and hooking up with them? And you never once told me?! When did you even have the time to do this?!" He shouted at her . Getting up to his feet and running his shaking fingers through his hair in pure frustration .

Blinking back his tears as he realised then that this was all his fault . If he had just manned up and told her how he felt. Maybe then she wouldn't have had to run off and sleep with strangers to be satisfied.

He felt sick.

Cherrie looked at him with a frown, clutching her hands by her sides as she noticed how upset he was getting. His eyes were glossy and he couldn't even look her in her eyes anymore , his lips were pursed tightly and cheeks flushed a angry red .

"I- not that often . Only on Saturdays." She muttered. Regret filling her body quickly , wishing then that she hadn't even entertained those men at all. It wasn’t worth this reaction from Lance.

But she was just so tired of pining after a man that had never made a single move on her. Sick of feeling like shit as she wondered why Lance couldn't see her in the same way she had always saw him.

And she missed him when he was away. And she also missed the way that things used to be when she was younger. She used to love partying , drinking and hooking up with strangers who she didn't even know the name of. She had felt so confident and free back then. She just wanted to feel that way again.

And honestly.. she had been sexually frustrated for a long time now . She had went two years without sex and suddenly she was snapping at her friends and colleagues for no reason, constantly tense and wound up tight over everything.

Miranda had recognised the signs and told her to hop onto tinder to 'de-stress for a night.'

So horny , tired and fed up with pining over her best friend, she did just that.

When Lance was away she met up with a cute guy and had a amazing , long night of sex. And if they were lucky , some morning sex too. It was casual and it was easy and after it was done she finally felt relaxed again , knowing that she hadn't changed.

Men still wanted her. Lance might not have but they did. She was still hot. Still had all the right moves and guys still lusted over her . It helped boost her declining confidence and it became a quick (bad) habit .

A Saturday night fuckfest that no one needed to know about as far as she was concerned.

She should have known that Lance would find out in the end . She just wasn't expecting him to react so badly , looking as though he was going to cry.

What the hell was going on?!

"Every Saturday?! So when I'm qualifying , you're out there sucking some random guys dick?!" He couldn't believe it. Looking at her in betrayal.

Fed up with his judgmental attitude , she simply shrugged her shoulders and snapped back. "Yes I am. I'm having fun. Something that I'm allowed to do." She then stomped her way out of the room and to the downstairs guest room instead.

Lance quickly followed her and slammed the door shut behind him, glaring at her angrily. Heart racing in his chest.

"It's not just you anymore though is it?! You have Luna to think about now . You can't just bring some random guys in and out of her life. She needs stability." He snapped at her, furious with his own frustration too .

He felt so stupid . Knowing that all of this could have been avoided if he had just told the truth.

Cherrie glared back at him furiously “I know what I'm doing! I don't bring them back here Lance! I’m not stupid!"

He let out a cold laugh "well it feels like you are! You really can't be this dense Cherrie! There's no way they you don't know." He spat , clutching at his hair desperately .

She looked at him, offended. "Don't know what?! That you're a dickhead who's jealous of me fucking other guys?!" She shouted back at him. Fed up with arguing with him now. She had always hated it when they fought. It only ever left her feeling sick afterwords.

He took a step closer to her and shook his head in disbelief , eyes never leaving her own.

“And why the hell do you think I get so jealous Cherrie?" His heart raced in his chest in both panic and understanding knowing that he couldn't keep lying to her any longer like this .

For his own hearts sake , he had to tell her. This was a horrifying wake up call if he had ever seen one.

She paused at that. Eyeing him warily while he impatiently waited for her to catch on.

She inhaled Shakily , chewing on the inside of her cheek nervously as he continued to glare down at her Unhappily .

"I don't- what?" She didn't know what he was going on about. Not wanting to get her own hopes up anymore. Her heart could only take so much.

Lance let out a long and hard sigh , his shoulders sagging in defeat as he swallowed thickly and told her bluntly "I love you Cherrie. That's why it hurts so much to know that you've been seeking out guys that aren't me." His words weren't any higher than a whisper .

But he might as well have shouted them at her with the way that she froze up, eyes widening in disbelief.

"What?" She breathed out shakily , eyes flickering between his own quickly. Trying to find a lie. All she could see was the truth .

“Oh my god. But you-you never said anything!" She cried out suddenly , feeling sick with guilt and anger. So many years wasted when they could have been together , a perfect little family.

Lance sniffled , guilt crossing his own face as he watched tears fill her own eyes. Looking back at him like she had seen a ghost.

He took another step closer to her and gently took ahold of her arms, pulling her closer to him desperately .

"I know . I was scared. I was going to tell you but each time I tried to- I always chickened out. I mean -" he shook his head to himself "you're way out of my league Cherrie! I don't want to mess up our friendship if you didn't feel the same way!"

She slapped his chest, hard, at that. Making him wince at the sting , looking down at her in shock as she let out a loud, frustrated shriek .

"But I did Lance! I loved you! Always! I only went to those other guys because I was sick and tired of waiting around for something to happen between us when it never did!" She cried . More than Upset now.

Lance could only look down at her in astonishment , stomach sinking quickly .

“You did? You loved me too?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

She just looked at him in disbelief , heart pounding in her chest as she realised that the both of them had been so wrong for so long.

Both of them in love with each other and both of them assuming that the other one just didn't return those feelings.

Idiots! They were both idiots!

"Of course I did! How could I not?!" She shouted at him, running her hands through her hair in frustration as she began to pace back and forth across the room angrily .

"You were the only person who ever stayed. You were my best friend! You stayed with me through my pregnancy! You stayed with me through all my Hormonal tantrums and stupid crying fits when we couldn't find my favourite ice cream!" She sniffled, roughly wiping away the tears from her eyes, bottom lip trembling .

Lance stood in front of her with a pale face , his lips parted in pure shock. Unable to believe what an idiot he had been .

"Then when- then when Luna was born you…you stayed. You always fucking stayed! You woke up during the night to feed her when I was too tired. You treated her like she was your own and her first word-" she hiccuped , crying heavily now as she finally raised her head and looked him straight in his eyes.

"Her first word was 'Love!' Because you always used to tell her how much you loved her over and over again. And I was so fucking pathetic for being jealous of my own baby because all I wanted-" she inhaled deeply as she tried to stop crying, needing him to know that he wasn't the only one that fell in love too.

"-All I wanted was for you to tell me the same thing. I just wanted to hear you say that you loved me too." It came out more like a trembling whisper , finally coming to a stand still in front of the man that she so desperately loved.

For a long moment Lance didn't know what to say, his throat running dry and the lump in his throat becoming painful as he looked at her silently, filled with nothing but a sour mixture of regret, guilt and hope.

He inhaled deeply and slowly walked over to her till they were toe to toe, licking his dry lips as he wondered how the hell he could fix this mess that he had created .

He gently pushed her hair away from her tear stained cheeks and sighed, cupping her face in the palm of his hands as he wiped away her tears with a quiet sniffle.

"I am so sorry. I should have told you that I loved you the very moment that I knew..you're all that I've ever wanted." He whispered to her , swallowing. "I was just a coward. So blinded by my own fear to realise that you - that you loved me too." He said still unable to believe that she returned his feelings too .

All these years he had wasted by being so afraid...

Cherrie clutched at his wrists as he ran soothing circles over her cheekbones softly , his teary eyes never leaving her own as their hearts raced against each other as though it was a race.

And as she looked into his eyes , felt the trembling of his fingers against her skin and the guilt that covered his face. She felt her anger fade away. Just like that.

Because she knew Lance. He was her best friend for a reason After all . And she knew that he would never have tried to lead her on deliberately, he would never have any ill intentions towards anybody .

This was the same guy that had cried during toy story , the same guy that had made them have a little funeral in her garden after he had accidentally stepped on an moth that Luna had called ��pretty’. He couldn't even hurt a fly.

All he had ever done was make her life easier for her. He had done everything that he could to make sure that she and Luna had the best life possible. He spoiled the both of them rotten and would proudly show off photos of the three of them to his friends. So proud of his little family even if she didn't know it then.

She knew then that he hadn't meant to hurt her. Hadn't meant to make her cry. All he had ever done was love her in silence . That was his only mistake, not telling her sooner.

He loved her. He was in love with her. He was her best friend . That was never going to change and who better to fall in love with than the man that knew her life no other?

The man that had immediately stepped up to be a father figure to her baby without her even needing to say a thing. He had just automatically done it because he loved the both of them, they were clearly meant to be. Their family and friends were right after all.

She realised that now. And what did her friend always say ... better late than never right?

So she let her tears dry and she let a smile arise on her lips , lances eyes never leaving her own as he patiently waited for her to tell him what she was thinking about . What she was feeling.

She just whispered the truth "I'm so in love with you." Slowly wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, till they were breathing in each other's love. Heart beats in sync. Always.

Lance felt the weight slowly lift from his shoulders , his eyebrow raising as he shyly smiled back at her, hope lighting up his once saddened features. Gently placing his hands on her hips , their noses gently nudging together.

"Yeah?" He breathed out , swallowing. "You-can we give this a try? Start over?" He almost pleaded.

Cherrie just laughed softly and shook her head fondly. "We don't need to start over Lance. I've loved you for half of my life. I'll love you till the end of it too." She promised him. Smiling affectionately as she washed his face flush red at her words, a flustered giggle escaping him as he squeezed her to him with a happy sigh escaping his lips.

"The first day that I met you I told myself that I was going to marry you someday." He confessed to her shyly . Falling into her embrace with ease.

"Still feel that way about me now?" She teased , gently tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck, watching him sag against her with a content sigh.

Instead of answering the obvious 'I do' he just closed the gap between them and kissed her instead.

Tilting her back gently till her head rested in the crook of his arm as he kissed he like should have kissed her all those years ago. A soft moan escaping her lips as she pulled him closer by his neck and deepened the kiss, slowly patting his lips with her tongue as they held onto each other tightly . Neither one wanting to let go.

So lost in each other that neither one of them heard the little mischievous giggle of a three year old as she peeked into the room with a smug, toothy grin on her chubby face. Eyes lighting up in joy as she watched her two favourite people in the entire world kiss each other like the prince and princess did in her favourite movies.

She squealed to herself in excitement , bouncing on the balls of her feet in joy as she hissed a happy "yesssssss!" Before quickly running away again to tell the rest of her stuffed animals that her plan had worked.

Even the toddler had seen that they were in love and Luna had been determined to make her mommy marry Lance so that they could be a proper family together now. Just like the movies.

And she could be a perfect princess at their wedding. She couldn't wait to demand Lance to buy her a new, big sparkly gown to wear and a new tiara too.

She squeezed her unicorn to her chest tightly with a beam of happiness on her face "daddy loves mommy!" She told the stuffed animal in delight. Having been calling Lance her daddy to her all of her nursery friends and teddy bears for a long time now.

And Luna couldn't wait to call him daddy to his face too now . They could be a perfect family.

The three year old smiled brightly to herself and wondered out loud 'I wonder if he will take us to Disneyland now.' Because priority's .

Knowing fully well that the toddler always got what she wanted . She wanted Lance and her mommy to be together. She got it.

She wanted to go to Disneyland with them, she would get it.

She had never been happier.

And neither had the best friends turned lovers in the other room, still lost in each other’s love as they stumbled to the bed after Lance had locked the door behind them. Their home filling with nothing but love and hope for the future now that she knew.

She and Luna were his home. He wanted this forever.

It was better late than never right?

#f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 fic #f1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #Lance stroll imagine #Lance stroll oneshot

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jjeongsa · 1 year

Text

i love you (ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?) | [svt]

— a thirteen-part taylor swift eras series feat. seventeen.

this is a social media au series wherein i plan on making thirteen short stories based on taylor swift’s songs ft. the seventeen members. i’m so excited to see what happens with this series. (ignore the other fics that i’m (not) ignoring on writing right now HAHAHAH). i hope you guys like this :)

TAGLIST OPEN ! feel free to send an ask or reply below !

masterlist

❝ and he's passing by, rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. and he feels like home, if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go. ❞

fearless

the way i loved you. | yoon jeonghan

❝ breaking down and coming undone, it's a roller coaster kind of rush, and i never knew i could feel that much, and that's the way i loved you. ❞

exes to ???

college student!reader x corporate heir!jeonghan, reader x seungcheol (side pair)

angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of alcohol and sex but no actual smut

speak now - COMING SOON

enchanted. | lee chan

❝ please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you. ❞

strangers to lovers

idol!reader x dancer!chan

fluff, slight angst, slight crack, a dummy's interpretation of idol life

???

red

???

1989

???

reputation

???

lover

???

folklore

???

evermore

???

midnights

???

#seventeen social media au #seventeen masterlist #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagines #choi seungcheol x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #joshua hong x reader #moon junhui x reader #kwon soonyoung x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #lee jihoon x reader #lee seokmin x reader #kim mingyu x reader #xu minghao x reader #boo seungkwan x reader #vernon x reader #lee chan x reader

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eclairfair98 · 23 days

Text

Pensacola’s far more crowded than the little Pete’s seen of Lemoore. Definitely more crowded than his own hometown in Texas. And somehow, it feels like a real city, a blare of noise overwhelming him at every turn.

Even the streets seem different. Much wider than he’s used to. Smoothly paved, crisscrossing everywhere. Pete watches the cars bolting past: a Corvette Stingray, an Aston Martin Vantage, a Chevy Camaro. Their windows gleaming golden under the bright winter sun.

Buildings with glass windows reach towards the tall blue skies, laced only by a few wispy clouds hovering in the distance.

He doesn’t know where he’s going. There’s too many streets, too many cars, too many sounds: the music twisting out of radios, the voices talking intently at one another, all blurring together into one.

There’s too many people. Men in sharp suits carrying leather briefcases. Women wearing dark sunglasses and rustling skirts.

All important-looking people, who walk past him quickly. As if on urgent business.

And all of a sudden Pete finds himself wishing that he was wearing something better than the sweatshirt and trousers he’d taken to borrowing from Tom’s wardrobe, once his own clothes stopped fitting him. That he was a couple of inches taller. That he had shinier hair and prettier teeth.

He finds himself wishing that he didn’t feel like a stranger in his own body, most of the time.

“You don’t know, Pete,” his mother had once told him, turning her tired gaze to the window. Her small pale hand tapping the space above her heart. “What it feels like. In here. You just don’t know.”

At the time, he’d wished he could know. What it felt like. What was in her heart. Wished he could erase the sadness lining her delicate face. Bleeding into her pretty eyes.

But maybe, Pete’d been better off not knowing, after all.

He blinks up at the sky, at the blanket of blue tingeing his sight. Thinks about pretty things. About how they don’t last in this world.

A stray cat with big green eyes slinks by. Pauses. Looks up at Pete expectantly. He leans over the swell of his abdomen to pet the soft spot between her ears. Feels the smile tingling at the corner of his mouth when she runs her prickly tongue over his fingertips. Nuzzles her little pink nose into the curve of his palm.

“Hey… you hungry? Let’s see if we can find you some food.”

The feeling inside of him doesn’t linger.

It floats away. Becomes smaller and smaller and then disappears, as the syrupy-sweet warmth of the afternoon settles back into his limbs.

The cat slips away from under his heat-stained palms. Tail swishing in the air as she darts down the sidewalk.

And Pete finds himself stumbling after her, socked feet slipping on the smooth soles of his worn-down shoes.

Warmth tightens in his chest as he runs down the paved concrete. Heat clinging to the afternoon air like crystallized salt. Washing everything with it’s golden touch.

It’s easy like this. To imagine that if he lifted his legs just a little higher, his whole body would float amongst the clouds.

Pete passes a group of little girls skipping rope. An old man with a newspaper tucked under his arm, who smiles at him when he races past. A boy about his age with a pile of heavy books in his hands, probably on his way home from the library.

He sees streets lined with shops selling flowers and pastries and suits and toys. Smells salt and smoke and the bewildering scents of the dozens of people around him.

Sweet notes of someone’s joy mingling in with the sharp bursts of someone else’s nervousness. Excitement and anticipation and worry and relief, all overwhelming him, all at once.

He turns an abrupt corner, his ears buzzing, pulse fluttering in his mouth, eyes darting from one unfamiliar end of the block to the other, when he sees a little kid crouched down on the crosswalk.

It’s an empty road and the few pedestrians who are rushing by, either don’t notice or don’t care to see the boy.

“H-hey,” Pete calls out, voice hoarse, color high in his cheeks. Each breath coming in heavier than the last as he looks up at the crosswalk signal. Sees the neon green numbers blinking down at him. Indicating he has plenty of time to get to the child. To bring him back to the sidewalk. “Are you alright?”

His feet feel swollen inside his sneakers. Protesting every step he takes down the pristine white lines marking the hot concrete, like thick stripes of mint candy.

There’s a sharp stitch in his side from all the running he wasn’t supposed to do. His doctor’s disapproving face growing bigger and bigger in front of his eyes, as the thick humid air makes a wheezing sound at the back of his throat.

Pete presses a shaky palm to the curve of his belly. Feels a furtive kick against his heat-stained fingers, the smallest outline of a foot.

Remembers the softness melting in Tom’s steady blue gaze. The careful press of calloused fingers against the stretched pink of his skin. The barely-contained wonder. The tender press of a mouth against the ever-growing swell of his abdomen. Against the curve of his lips.

I love you.

The wind rises, blows the shorter uneven bits of his hair outta his blurry eyes.

There’s a voice in his head. A voice that sounds remarkably like Tom’s. Telling him to stop. To turn around. To call for help.

The whites in his vision dance in a frenzy.

But he’s almost there. The boy is right there. Pete’s tired but he can’t stop now.

Big brown eyes blink up at him slowly. He can’t be older than five, maybe six. Pete wonders where his parents are.

Are you all alone?

The child doesn’t respond. Pete touches his lips — closed — doesn’t know whether he’s spoken aloud.

He notices the thick glasses lying in a crunched heap on the ground. The dark red blood plastered on skinned knees.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Pete tries again, kneeling down as deftly as his body will allow, breathing around the heat crumbling his larynx. Like it’s coming apart and sticking together all at once. “Why don’t we get off this road? And then, you can take me to your parents.”

“I’m B-Bernie, and I w-want my dad.”

The boy is scared. It’s thick in his scent, in the quiver in his chin, in the wetness pooling in his eyes. And it’s an awful feeling. Seeing a child so little, so scared. But it distracts Pete from the heat, the unsteady beat of his heart, the prickly discomfort creeping up his arms and legs.

If he can focus on Bernie’s fear, maybe he can drown out his own.

“Hey Bernie, I’m Pete. And I also want to find your father. Why don’t we go look for him together, huh?”

Bernie sniffles as he holds out his arms. Presses closer, the tip of his damp nose tickling Pete’s ear as he hiccups, “You’re s-scared… I can smell it. Please don’t be scared. After we find my dad, he’ll help us find your dad too.”

A wet laugh punches its way out of his aching chest as he hoists the boy up on his hip. Gently wipes the trails of dust and tears off his round cheeks. “Sure, kid. We’ll do that. Now let’s get off this road, okay?”

Bernie tugs on the sleeves of his shirt, hands stronger than they look. Burrows his wet face into the curve of his neck. Whispers a quiet thank you.

The signal tells him he has another forty-five seconds to get off the crosswalk.

Deck the halls blares out from the open window of a toy store.

The baby inside of him kicks hard, sending little shocks of pain down his spine.

And in the end, it’s far too late by the time he sees the speeding car peeling down the street.

His voice is silent, nowhere in his throat as his whole body curls around the boy in his arms. Around the little life in his belly.

Heaven and earth tumble, he grasps for the wind, and the streets fall away.

And then, there’s the sky — the fluffy white clouds like rabbits dancing across its spotless blue expanse.

He imagines reaching for them, swirling them around a stick, catching sunlight in each pristine wisp. Making tiny little rainbows all of his own.

Pete raises his hand to reach for the light, it feels sticky and warm.

Deafening wails threaten to pierce his eardrums.

Bernie.

There’s a sharp blinding pain in his chest, as though there’s a knife scraping the inside of his esophagus with every wheeze of air struggling to make its way to his lungs, but he can’t focus on that right now because: Where is Bernie?

Distantly, Pete realizes that the screams are coming from above him. That there’s little hands pressed against his chest, a torso huddled against his belly. That the hot tears rolling down his cheeks aren’t his own.

Are you hurt? Please, don’t be hurt. Don’t cry. Please.

The world seems only half real through the inky blackness seeping into his vision. Like a reflection of a reflection. Like something out of a story told long ago. Nearly-forgotten. Moulded by time into something else entirely.

At a glance, Bernie looks mercifully unharmed: moving all of his limbs, his scent untainted by the bitter notes of pain.

Dirt smears his forehead in a wide arc. Pete reaches out a hand to wipe his face, belatedly sees the bright crimson smeared across his own palm.

It dawns on him ever so slowly. As though the whole world has frozen around him. As though time’s come to a complete standstill. Like one of those films on tape that you can pause with the press of your finger.

Bernie’s screaming at the sight of blood. Pete’s blood. That’s soaking right through his clothes. That’s pooling around him.

And all of a sudden, he feels cold. Very cold.

Panicked voices surround him. Suffocating in their proximity. Someone tries to lift Bernie off of him, but the boy refuses to let go, holding onto his neck with a strength that can only be fueled by adrenaline.

There’s a cacophony of sirens in the distance, but Pete can’t move, he can barely breathe.

It’s like being choked by a noose steadily tightening around his neck. He wants to comfort Bernie, to ask for help — Tom, he needs Tom — he can’t stay here — the baby —

He places a weak hand on the swell of his belly, hoping for a kick, a movement, a flutter, anything.

His baby is frighteningly still as the last vestiges of consciousness leave his body, and there’s nothing between the sky and the ground but endless black.

#the unbearable lightness of being #icemav #omegaverse #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #tw: RTA / mentions of blood #I’m sorry

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tsunami-of-tears · 1 month

Text

ACOTAR ships as Taylor Swift Songs

There are so many possible interpretations, I may have taken these super literally. I would love to hear your thoughts on my choices or if you have different ideas!

Feysand - Long Story Short THE SHOE REFERENCE TOO?? Long story short, it was a bad time / Pushed from the precipice / Clung to the nearest lips / Long story short, it was the wrong guy / Now I'm all about you Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky / And he feels like home / If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go Long story short, I survived

Nessian - The Great War CRIMSON. BATTLE. ANGSTY ANGST. All that bloodshed, crimson clover I vowed not to cry anymore / If we survived the Great War

Elucien - Exile All this time / I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) / I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around) / 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

Gwynriel - Willow I imagine Gwyn singing this to Azriel I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night / Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife Show me the places where the others gave you scars (!!!!!!!!) The more that you say / The less I know / Wherever you stray / I follow / I'm begging for you to take my hand /

Elriel - Treacherous This hope is treacherous / This daydream is dangerous

Feylin - The Archer Obviously. I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost / The room is on fire, invisible smoke / And all of my heroes die all alone / Help me hold onto you I've been the archer / I've been the prey / Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? / But who could stay?

And finally,

Rhysand + the Inner Circle - Slut! Not a ship but I had to 😭😭 And if they call me a slut / You know it might be worth it for once

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acosf #acowar #azriel #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #rhys acotar #rhysand #cassian acosf #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #elain archeron #acotar headcanon

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iwanthermidnightz · 2 months

Note

Straight to therapy after tonight's mashups 🫠

the way she went into

the battles in your hands now, but I would lay my armor down if you said you’d rather love than fight // past me, I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things, your nemesis will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing / and he’s passing by rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky/ and he feels like home/if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go

but also how in long story short she says

fatefully, I tried to pick my battles til the battle picked me / misery, like the war of words I shouted in my sleep/ and you passed right by/I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides/the knife cuts both ways/if the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

When I dropped my sword/ I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door/And we live in peace/But if someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready

and then she goes into clean and evermore on piano?

yeah straight to therapy 😭

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agendabymooner · 9 months

Text

long story short ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) - tltl series

"and he feels like home. if the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go."

summary: their closest friends are more surprised that they're playing house without the label. OR sylvie hearth wasn't impulsive - in fact her conscience came in the form of a red bull driver named max verstappen. (1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)(7)

content warning: they give off found family vibe tbh, use of explicit language, moving in, they're just "friends" and everyone "agrees" that they are, lando is a lovechild, mentions of father figures and j*s verstappen (being shitty), mentions of protective!toto and supportive!tilly spoiling ofc.

note: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOUR (shout out to @flowerchild-96 you literally give me the support and thoughts that had me motivating myself into writing more 😭)

masterlist

tagged max33verstappen

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, charles_leclerc

comments have been limited

tillymarie incredibly happy for you lovie !! ❤️ liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford thank you soooo much for the g-wagon tillyyyyy ❤️

steviemarlz ok but whiskey looks hot in here ngl liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford RIGHT?!!! also don't say that as if you hadn't gotten your dream impala 🙄 don't cheat on winchester like that

aimeeyh are you seriously getting yourself a collection?? i could've sworn i've seen a caddy and a mustang on your garage 🙁 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford don't tell toto that 😢

lewishamilton when's the housewarming? looking forward to it! liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford during my week off 😙 bring the good stuff

lewishamilton you mean the collection of niki lauda car figurines??

sylvieeford yes?! put an ayrton senna while you're at it ❤️

lewishamilton you better be lucky i love you lovie

charles_leclerc is this a new hangout location then? liked by sylvieeford

max33verstappen you're not allowed to step foot in the house if that's what you're asking 🤷‍♂️

danielricciardo sleepover at sylvie's when?? 👀 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford five rooms available only, first come first serve, fee includes moet and daiquiri recipe

danielricciardo on it mini boss 😇

landonorris i'm not even allowed to drink yet :( liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford i hope you like shirley temple

landonorris yeah i'll take that bestie :)

She could admit that it was an impulsive decision, but her seven-bedroom and four-bathroom cottage was the best purchase that she’s made.

This was the first time she had purchased her own house. Not rent. Not a flat either, but a house. She loved staying in Brackley, if she was being honest, but there were times when she felt as if she needed a change in environment. Something more… like her.

Sylvie could be considered a Wolff especially with the equally intimidating look that they would both give to people that wanted to speak business. Toto was a mentor to Sylvie and she’d often shadow him back when she wasn’t working at Red Bull. Over time, Toto had grown fond of her work ethics and enthusiasm.

So to hear her say that she was buying a house halfway through Milton Keynes and Brackley (Buckinghamshire, if anyone asked) was kind of a disappointment for him. After all, she and her sisters had always been Mercedes girls.

(Even if Tilly owned Red Bull, she too was a Mercedes girl.)

Regardless, he continued to express his admiration for her work ethics. Hell, he and Tilly had even bought her a Mercedes as a part of her new car collection. She never asked them for it— they didn’t understand that when she said “she was collecting them” as she meant that she had a wall of hot wheels displayed in her entertainment room.

But regardless, her slate gray Mercedes G-Wagon — one that she called Whiskey — became her favourite car. She drove to the Red Bull headquarters every day using Whiskey. Everyone was rather appalled to see a Mercedes parked in the staff parking lot.

By everyone, she meant everyone.

The first time she parked it by Christian’s car, the first person who had greeted her was Daniel— who arrived with his Aston Martin.

“Holy shit,” Daniel wolf whistled as she stepped out of her car with a grin. “You’re planning to give the boss a heart attack, Blue.”

“Do you like her?” Sylvie cheekily grinned as she patted the hood of her vehicle, “Her name’s Whiskey. She’s quite pretty and makes the greatest noise ever.”

“Oh yeah I bet,” Daniel snorted at the joke. “I don’t take you for a hard liquor type.”

“I’m not,” Sylvie beamed, “there’s just something about her that screams wild.”

“Like the 10 year old you were not?” Daniel raised a brow, amused smile written on his face. The Mustang donut had been discussed enough in the grid that everyone is permitted to make that joke.

Another Aston Martin pulled up to the parking lot before she could even respond, the sunglasses of the driver inside lowering down as his jaw dropped. Just as he parked, Max Verstappen stepped out of the car while gaping at the sight of her G-Wagon. He had just arrived from France and went directly to the office, bringing his Aston Martin along.

“I don’t recall you having that,” Max started. “I would have known.”

“Of course you would,” Daniel snickered, “you’d know when her cycle starts if I asked for it.” Sylvie stomped on Daniel’s foot before gesturing at her newest baby.

“Toto said that I need some reminder of him whenever I enter the enemy realms,” Sylvie patted her vehicle once more, “enter Whiskey.”

“Whiskey?” Max’s brow raised at the response, “You should have called it Daiquiri. You’d throw your lungs up if you took a shot of whiskey without fruit on it.”

“No need to throw it out there, Maxie,” Sylvie rolled her eyes before walking off with her shoulder carrying her purse. “It’s not like you could shoot whiskey either.”

Max peered at Daniel, who had a smile written on his face as he continued on.

“The girl isn’t wrong, Max,” Daniel shrugged before following the woman to the entrance.

“I could tolerate it,” the Dutchman finally followed along as they all entered the facility. “But right now I’m just looking forward to seeing Christian’s reaction to your Whiskey.”

“You fools aren’t renting a flat in London, are you?”

“If we say no, will you go away?” Daniel started. It was one o’clock, and this was the first thing that Sylvie got for an answer on a genuine question.

Sylvie looked at the Dutchman. Max shrugged, “You know I’m not.”

“What, are you two like— fucking mind readers or something?” Daniel joked, “You have some freaky shit going on with knowing each other.”

The younger ones glared at him.

“I know he isn’t renting,” Sylvie huffed out, rolling up the magazine on her hand and smacking Daniel with it. “He lives with me.”

“What?” Daniel’s eyes widened, looking back and forth at the two. How easy was it for them to say that? How could they even say that aloud?

The truth was that it wasn’t as easy.

When Max told his family about living in England before the season started, his sister immediately rang Sylvie’s phone and giddily asked if Max and her were dating. Sophie was more than excited that she had flown in to give Sylvie a gift for her new home. Sylvie didn’t want to know how Jos reacted, and she and Max agreed that he wasn’t welcome in the cottage. The Hearth sister was pretty scared about the fact that they thought she and Max were dating— they were NOT.

And when Sylvie and Max attended her family dinner and said that the Dutch were living in her home, Toto’s eyes told Max a lot about how he felt towards the news. Truthfully, Max wished that he could find a closet to hide in. Toto was going to kill him just by staring. Her sisters and mother were a different story; they knew Max well enough that they trusted him with Sylvie. Tilly had to nudge her beau just to get him to lay off the younger man.

So yes, saying it aloud wasn’t easy for them. At first. But now it’s like a usual thing to say.

“What?” Sylvie raised a brow at the Aussie. “You’ve never spent less than what you pay for before? We’re sharing the bills.”

She completely forgot to mention that she had already paid the estate fully. Max was only paying for the groceries. And they were barely at home.

tagged archdigest, max33verstappen

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, steviemarlz

comments have been disabled

georgerussell63 ohhh so this is what you meant by car collection 😂 liked by sylvieeford

max33verstappen she also bought an orange cadillac after her mum got her the blue mustang - as if she'd ever replace the iconic mustang donut that she did when she was 10

sylvieeford we do not talk about blue like that

landonorris NAW BLANCHE GOT YOU THE WILD MUSTANG?!!

alex_albon no lad, she is the wild mustang liked by sylvieeford

steviemarlz geez max33verstappen your sim racing room is just as empty as lovie's soul not gonna lie

sylvieeford sleep with one eye open, steve.

max33verstappen 😂😂

victoriaverstappen i like the office! it's giving couple without labels vibes

landonorris what she said ^^

maxfewtrell i second that victoriaverstappen 👍

lewishamilton and you still want the senna and lauda car collection?? after all of that wall of hot wheels? liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford it's a necessity for my study 😿

lewishamilton unbelievable lovie 🤦‍♂️

sylvieeford hehe ❤️

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user1 max is giving househusband with all of that DIY shit he did at their offices HAHAHA

user2 she purchased the whole estate and had it renovated... jesus she is loaded

user3 how to tell if it's also a racer's home: have the endless collection of trophies displayed in the drawing room

user4 she also competed before so it could be her trophies and old helmets

user5 ok but she has a collection of helmets gifted to her by drivers like michael schumacher, alain prost and jackie stewart- that's saying a lot about how close her family is to formula one and shit

user6 these two moved in together, decided on what to put up in the house and people around them still think they're friends?

user7 soulmates is what people call them. there's a lot of articles saying that they aren't just childhood friends and this video clearly shows it

user8 the reason why they're so close was because they have a fair share of experiences with fathers who only want them for the glory of being in a podium. it's not fully discussed by them but the way of how tilly spoke about the two showed that these kids need a damn break lmfao

user9 julius and j*s get off their dick challenge 😩

The first time their friends came over for a night in, they were baffled to say the least.

Lando Norris was the first to arrive at the small gathering, bringing a bottle of Moët as if they already hadn’t had enough of it during the last season. When Max opened the door on him the Brit’s first words were: “Holy shit, Max, you’re a royal, mate!”

“Uh hello, too?” Max stepped aside to let him in.

“This place is fancy,” Lando continued as his eyes twinkled in awe. “You should have said you were looking for a house, lad. I would’ve paid half of this just to live here!”

“I don’t own this house,” Max’s brows crinkled in confusion.

“You don’t?”

“This is Sylvie’s house.”

“Oh,” Lando trailed off, his eyes then widening at the realization as he gasped, “Sylvie’s?! Oh that absolute bitch— why didn’t you tell me you were getting a house Sylvia?!”

Lando got lost for a moment inside the house, trying to find the sizzling and chopping sounds as he finally located his best friend.

Lando was ready to give her a piece of his mind, if it hadn’t been for a small feisty figure that had him cowering a little.

Sylvie didn’t even notice the smaller boy enter until a yapping echoed inside the already loud kitchen, looking up as she jumped at the sight of Lando. “What the hell— Lando!”

“You’re telling me what the hell,” Lando argued back before pointing down to the tiny fighting figure in front of him, “you didn’t tell me you bought this house for yourself and now you’ve got a sewer rat for a pet?!”

“Hey, don’t call the baby a rat,” Max called Lando out before walking past him, giving him a smack in the head before he knelt down and picked up the figure.

“You have a puppy, Max! A puppy, Sylvie!” Lando was still shell shocked about this whole ordeal. There was too much to talk about.

“Oh this little thing is my baby,” Sylvie told the boy, reaching out to pet the miniature schnauzer puppy. “Cute, no?”

“Besides I have told you I was buying a place,” Sylvie told Lando. “You were the first one I texted. Even Max, who lives here, didn’t get a chance to know first.”

“I didn’t think you’d get a cottage,” Lando cried out. “A cottage in the village, while you’re at it.”

“It’s more peaceful here,” Sylvie admitted, Max nodding along as she continued, “At least I don’t have to freak out for living in the loudest places ever.”

“Can I pet him?”

“Yeah, you can pet her,” Max corrected Lando with a scowl. “Her name’s Marinara.”

Lando paused in his tracks, baffled at the name as he looked at Sylvie, “You named her, didn’t you? Don’t tell me no because she’s got an obscure name— no one would name someone so stupid but you.”

“What do you mean— fine,” Sylvie replied dully, “I did. But that’s because Max wanted to name her something basic like he is. Cookie— seriously, Max.”

“It’s rather fitting for her,” Max shrugged, bouncing the puppy in his arms. “She got some Oreo features.”

“She’s a bit lighter than a cookie,” Sylvie protested, “besides even if she was an Oreo, I’d call her Oreo instead of Cookie. Basic bitch.”

Lando stared at the two of them with an amused expression. There was so much that had changed in the span of a year, and Lando didn’t want to point that out— he didn’t want to jinx it. He was just glad that the two were playing house once more. Hopefully this time, it becomes a permanent fixture in his life.

After all, he was the first to witness the building and destruction of their relationship. He was certain that there was love shared between the two of them.

Peering down at the dog’s name tag, his eyes twinkled with joy as he scanned the engraved letters repeatedly.

Marinara Ford-Verstappen

And they said that they were just being practical with living together. They have a puppy and they live in the same house— as of this point they might as well share a bed and get married. Nobody would stop them seeing as the decision to move together and have a support pet were made without telling anyone.

If you were to ask anyone else, Sylvie wasn’t really impulsive.

She hadn’t just purchased this house just because. Talking to a real estate agent about making a decision was rather difficult, so she phoned Max and asked if he preferred having two and a half bathrooms or something. Then, the next time they met she dragged him to the open house in Buckinghamshire.

She also had him picking out a puppy from the litter in their local pet shelter, which ended up being Marinara.

They weren’t exactly impulses if she got a second opinion from him.

tagged max33verstappen

liked by roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton, steviemarlz

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alex_albon "sewer rat pet"

sylvieeford that's just lando lol

roscoelovescoco i luvs yous, friends! 🐶 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford see u at the paduck, frend! -marinara

danielricciardo we want a marinara ig page 🤩 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford max can barely run his own instagram lmao

max33verstappen rude!

tillymarie look at that baby girl 🐶😍 liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford you'll see her a lot on the paddock 👀 on her red bull outfit and everything

redbullracing is that our new mascot?!! liked by sylvieeford

sylvieeford she'll be replacing christianhorner on duty 😍

gerihalliwell haha! looking forward to meeting her, sylvie! liked by sylvieeford

max33verstappen i'm so appalled she stays still whenever you take her photo while all the photos i've taken of her are blurry 🙄

sylvieeford she already favours you over me. ME, the one who takes her out to go potty 😒 stop whining, maxie.

max33verstappen must be tough not being the favourite parent huh

sylvieeford i hope she pisses on your bedroom rug bitch 🤬

ps: the birth of the "ford-verstappen" household and marinara ford-verstappen hehehe ❤️

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wavelikewhat · 10 months

Text

If The Shoe Fits

Pairing: Seventeen Vernon x reader (any pronouns) Summary: You and Vernon are reluctant friends after Seungkwan and his girlfriend invite you everywhere in their attempt to help you get over a breakup. But everything changes when you and Vernon get caught in the rain. Wordcount: 2.8k Content notes: Very fluffy. Reader has a recent breakup (ex-girlfriend left them). Seungkwan is dating an original character (she/her pronouns). No smut but Vernon is shirtless (this should happen more anyway). Genres/themes/appearances: Strangers to friends to lovers. Vernon's bi wife energy. Seungkwan and his gf are meddling in everyone’s lives. Several hikes where everyone wears sunscreen and drinks water. Could be read as idol AU or just AU. A/N: tysm for reading and loving Heartstrings (Woozi) and Bend It Like Mingyu (Mingyu), I really appreciate all the notes and reblogs!! Here is more adorable svt fluff if you enjoyed those :)

Vernon checked the time on his phone. It was only 7:30. Seungkwan said they would pick him up at 7:45, but Vernon didn’t mind being ready early. He sat on the stoop outside his apartment building and watched his neighborhood come to life. A few neighbors said good morning to him or nodded in acknowledgement as they passed.

Finally, a small white car parked in front of him and he saw Seungkwan and his girlfriend Yuna waving enthusiastically from the front.

Behind Yuna, you watched Vernon through the window as he walked toward the car without much of an expression on his face. You raised an eyebrow and looked him over skeptically as he entered the back seat beside you. So this was the person Seungkwan assigned as your chaperone on the hike today?

Yuna passed Vernon a coffee after he buckled his seat belt. He introduced himself to you and you introduced yourself to him, then Yuna took over and chatted with him a bit, thanking him for joining on short notice. This gave you a chance to examine Vernon surreptitiously. You hadn’t met him before and all you knew was he was Seungkwan’s close friend.

You wondered if Yuna or Seungkwan had mentioned the real reason they thought you needed a chaperone: your girlfriend broke up with you a week ago and Yuna did not think you were coping well. But weren’t you supposed to sit at home crying and eating ice cream and binging anime after your girlfriend told you they didn’t want to be with you anymore??

You and your ex-girlfriend had planned this hike with Seungkwan and Yuna ages ago, and instead of canceling Seungkwan found what he believed to be a suitable replacement. You had no idea what to expect from Vernon because all his friends seemed wildly different from each other.

Seungkwan focused on the tricky roads while Yuna talked to Vernon. The reason he called Vernon a few days ago asking him to join the hike was very simple in his eyes: Vernon was quiet companionship when that’s what you needed, and he was a good conversationalist if that’s what you wanted instead. Seungkwan wasn’t sure what you would need today, but for him a strenuous hike with zero discussions was sometimes the best thing to get his mind off things.

Vernon did not know about your breakup. Seungkwan had only said they planned to go as four and now they were three, so could he come join? Vernon didn’t have other plans and he agreed. He liked Yuna and always made time for Seungkwan.

Eventually, Seungkwan parked at the trailhead and everyone gathered their belongings, strapping into backpacks and making sure everyone had sunscreen and water. The trail was medium difficulty that culminated in a view of the mountains, and it wasn’t a very well known trail so you were looking forward to not seeing many people.

Seungkwan and Yuna pulled ahead early on, but both of them looked back frequently to keep you and Vernon in their line of sight. Vernon was behind you and he climbed in silence, which was perfectly fine with you. You didn’t really feel like making small talk with a stranger today so you focused on your footing to avoid tree roots and large rocks.

Whenever you stopped for water, Vernon stopped and drank some water too. You appreciated that he didn’t push past you or ask you to move faster after “wasting time to drink water,” like your ex did. Suddenly, the memory of her saying that to you made you irate.

“Have you ever had someone tell you that drinking water on the trail was a waste of time?”

“Me?” Vernon asked. He was surprised you were starting a conversation after hiking in silence for half an hour, and he was doubly surprised by the emotion in your voice.

“My ex-girlfriend used to say that to me. That’s why I liked planning hikes with Yuna and Seungkwan. They always take pictures when we stop. Were they doing that because of her…?” you wondered aloud, looking up ahead at the duo. At that moment, Yuna glanced back and saw you had stopped. You heard her call out to Seungkwan, and she pulled out her phone to take a photo of you and Vernon.

Vernon laughed. “I think you might be right. She’s a good friend.”

“She really is,” you agreed with a smile.

“How long have you known her?” Vernon asked as you started climbing again.

“Since we were teenagers.”

“That’s like me and Seungkwan.”

“Really? You two seem so different.” You glanced back and nearly tripped on a tree root. The way he was smiling as he talked about Seungkwan was unbelievable. It totally transformed his face.

“We’re different and we’re similar. I’m sure it’s the same with you and Yuna.”

“True. I’m glad she made me come to the trail today. Don’t tell her,” you warned.

“She made you come on the hike? Seungkwan just told me someone had to drop out.”

You laughed bitterly. “Yeah, my ex. She broke up with me a few days ago.”

“Ahh. I’m sorry.”

You hummed in response. You weren’t really sure how you were feeling about everything. The two of you climbed the rest of the way in silence, and the view at the top was definitely worth the sore muscles you would feel tomorrow morning.

Before dropping you off at your apartment later that day, Yuna AirDropped all her photos from the day to everyone in the car. You scrolled through them as you walked up the steps, grinning at all the cute and funny pictures she and Seungkwan had taken on the way up. But Yuna had also caught the moment you asked Vernon about his friendship with Seungkwan. You zoomed in on his incandescent smile, visible just past the back of your head as you looked back at him. All of Seungkwan’s friends definitely had something magnetic about them.

…

Over the next few months, Seungkwan and Yuna started inviting you and Vernon to more things together. You found yourself invited to dinners, random museum outings, and one memorable camping trip where Seungkwan managed to spill soju on all his belongings and had to assemble a truly hilarious outfit out of Vernon and Yuna’s spare clothes. His revenge was to pull on Vernon’s beanie and imitate him randomly over the rest of the evening, leaving everyone crying with laughter well into the night, especially Vernon.

You wondered how Seungkwan had decided that of all his friends Vernon was the one he would pull into this little group. You were starting to appreciate that Vernon left you alone when you weren’t really feeling up to a lot of conversation, yet somehow his brain waves aligned with your weird sense of humor. Every time the four of you were together, you and Vernon ended up cracking up in laughter while Seungkwan stared at the two of you in confusion wondering what could possibly be so funny.

One night, after dinner with you and Vernon, Yuna turned to Seungkwan as he drove her home. “I think Vernon has been really good for Y/N,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Seungkwan asked.

“I think it’s been good for Y/N to get to know someone who didn’t know what they were like as a couple… Someone who doesn’t know their ex.”

Seungkwan nodded understandingly. “Vernon doesn’t make assumptions about people.”

“Y/N said they told Vernon about the breakup.”

“Really?!” Seungkwan exclaimed in shock. “I only know what happened because you told me!”

“Y/N must be really comfortable around him.”

“Do you think…” Seungkwan started, then trailed off.

“What do I think?” Yuna asked.

“Maybe they might be a good match?”

Yuna hadn’t thought about it before, but your personalities and interests did align more often than not. After a few minutes of silence, Seungkwan spoke.

“Do you think Y/N is interested in dating someone new?”

“I don’t know,” Yuna admitted. Her eyes sparkled as she continued, “But I can find out.”

…

“That dinner was so good!” Yuna exclaimed as you all walked into your rental house on Jeju Island. Seungkwan and Yuna had invited you and Vernon to join their weekend getaway, and his family had treated everyone to a huge homemade feast on the first night.

“It was amazing! And your sisters are so funny,” you added.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “They’ll never change!”

Yuna laughed and wrapped her arm around his waist. “It was good to see your family again,” she said, looking up at him. She turned to you and Vernon. “I think I’m going to get ready for bed. Good night!” Seungkwan agreed and wished you a good night, following Yuna to their room.

“It’s been a long day,” Vernon said, yawning. “I’m going to shower and go to bed. Is that okay with you?” The two of you were sharing a bathroom for the weekend.

“Sure, I’ll finish up after you’re done.” You settled down on the couch with your phone. Yuna and Seungkwan had plans for the next day and you wanted to look up some things to do. You hadn’t asked Vernon what his plans were, but from getting to know him over the last few months you found he was a pretty agreeable guy who seemed equally content hanging out by himself or out doing an activity with people.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” Vernon called out to you as he stepped through the door.

“Thanks! Hey, what are your plans for tomorrow?” you asked quickly before he could go into his room.

“I was thinking of doing a hike, but I didn’t decide which one. What are your plans?”

“I was just looking up things to do. Do you want to do a hike together?”

“Sure. Want to decide over coffee? I saw a cafe nearby when we drove back tonight.”

“Sounds good.” It wasn’t until this moment that you registered the only thing he had on his body was a towel wrapped around his hips. You found your eyes zipping across the muscles outlining his torso. There was a lot more to take in than you expected.

“Alright, good night,” Vernon interrupted, and he walked into his bedroom and shut the door. You blinked, surprised at how quickly he disappeared.

After he closed the door, Vernon let out a big sigh. When he caught you checking him out, he did not expect his body to respond. But over the past few months, he found himself thinking about you a lot, and he had even wondered if you might be interested in going on a date with him and getting to know him one-on-one, especially since 100% of your encounters had included Seungkwan, Yuna, and now Seungkwan’s entire family. That moment in the hallway was making him start to think you might be as interested in him as he was in you.

That night, you dreamed about your first encounter with Vernon. Everything about that first hike came back to you in vivid detail, especially the moment when his smile had taken your breath away. As you walked to the cafe with Vernon the next morning while making small talk about whether the weather would hold up for a hike, you felt an urge to figure out how to make him smile at you that way he smiled when he talked about Seungkwan.

At the cafe, Vernon pulled up the trails he had been considering and the two of you agreed on a short one-hour hike to the top of one of the mountains on the island. You checked the weather as you walked back to the house.

“It might rain later today,” you said, scrolling through the precipitation report.

“Soon?” Vernon asked, pulling out his phone to look up the weather himself.

“It says 2-3 hours from now, so we’re probably okay.”

“We should probably bring some extra clothes in our backpacks,” Vernon suggested. “I got caught in the rain on a trail a few years ago and I was so annoyed I had to drive in my wet clothes.”

You laughed. “I will definitely pack extra clothes. That must have been miserable!” Vernon told you a few stories from that trip with Seungkwan and some of their friends, and by the time you reached the house you were laughing hard at hearing about their antics.

After a pleasant drive to the center of Jeju Island, you and Vernon started up the mountain. The trail was well maintained, and you saw a few other people climbing as well since it offered a great view of the island from the top. As you recalled, hiking with Vernon was pleasant because he let you set the pace and he stopped without comment whenever you took a break. Unfortunately, after twenty pleasant minutes passed in silence, you found yourself pelted by huge raindrops.

“Let’s turn around?” Vernon suggested from behind you. You nodded and began following him down. It was only drizzling, but it was much safer to go back to the car in case it started raining heavily. Just as you spotted the car in the parking lot, you saw a flash of lightning and heard the rumble of thunder. Suddenly, the skies opened up, and you and Vernon started running to the car through crazy rain that seemed to be coming at you sideways.

“Get in the back seat!” Vernon shouted, holding up the car keys to unlock the car. You followed his instructions without thinking until you both scrambled into the back seat of the rental car, gasping for air and laughing at how wet your clothes had become in the last few minutes.

“Why did you tell me to get in the back?” you asked after catching your breath and drinking some water.

“After I got caught in the rain on that other trip, I had to drive to the airport later that night and the seat was still soaking wet from my wet clothes. It was honestly one of the worst experiences of my life,” he laughed.

“Can you please tell me everything that has gone wrong in your life so I can learn from all your mistakes?” you joked. A huge grin stretched across Vernon’s face and he laughed harder than you had ever seen him laugh before. You felt a rush of pride in your chest for making him laugh that way. It melted into a rush of heat as your eyes drew down from his face and took in the wet shirt plastered across the muscles on his chest and arms.

Vernon calmed himself down rather forcefully (you definitely heard him mutter to himself, “Okay Vernon, calm down”) and handed you your backpack from under the passenger seat where you had hidden it from view. He pulled his bag out from under the driver's seat and combed through its contents to find his dry clothes.

Then he pulled off his shirt, right in front of you.

You froze in the middle of unzipping your bag, totally incapable of fine motor skills while your eyes were graced by the beauty of that body. That body! What?! He looked amazing last night after his shower, but it was even better up close.

Vernon looked up at you at that moment and caught you staring. You had nothing to say for yourself. You had been paying more attention to him and to his attentiveness over the last few weeks. There were a lot of things about him you had started to like a lot. Now you had to add his chest to that list of things.

“I have a question for you,” he said suddenly. “Wait, I can’t say this without a shirt on.” He tugged a dry shirt over himself, and a tiny part of you (okay it was a very major part of you) was disappointed at no longer having access to the abs before you.

Satisfied his shirt was on correctly, Vernon looked back into your eyes and seemed very serious. Your heart raced. “Do you want to go out with me sometime? Just me, I mean. Don’t get me wrong, I love Seungkwan and Yuna. But on the off chance you feel ready to date someone new, I was hoping that could be me.”

You felt a grin spread across your face, and a moment later you saw that same grin mirrored on Vernon’s face. “Yes, definitely,” you replied, and you put your wet arms around his dry shirt and kissed him, pulling him against your rain soaked clothing. Guess he'd have to drive back shirtless after all.

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