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lovifie · 3 months

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 5: Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Aprox 5k words

W: Captain Price x Reader x Kyle Garrick (the poly 141 is building).

“I honestly think this is an improvement from your flat.” Ghost comments leaving your bag on a chair. “It is sad, but it's true.”

And he is right. The safehouse you have been assigned to is not ugly, it is just… artificial. Decorated to look lived in, but you know it isn't. Photos of people you don't know on the walls, books you haven't read and blankets you can tell are going to be itchy. But no one can trace you back here.

Ghost drove you here, Price made Soap and Gaz stay with him to have a chat with them. Chat, you are glad to be able to avoid, at least for now.

The safe house is not too far away from the base, but still enough not to be linked to it. It is a nice neighbourhood, better than your last one, it makes you want to go for a walk.

“Try to always stay inside, alright?” Ghost tells you sitting beside you. He caresses your thigh looking at your face. “I know it sucks to be stuck inside, but this whole thing would lose its purpose if anyone sees you leaving or entering the house.”

“So I can’t never leave the house?” You ask looking down. His gloved hand still caressing your thigh, and your hands find their way to it, playing with the fabric of his glove.

“You can, just need to be careful. But never alone, unless it is an emergency. Please, if Price hears you are wandering around alone he'll have a stroke.” He chuckles, stops moving his hand and instead puts the palm up letting you play with his hand. “You should have seen him yesterday when he woke up.”

“Was it that bad?” You ask, guilt flooding your heart at the mental image of Price panicking because of you.

Ghost nods. “He thought that we were pulling a prank on him, that we have you hidden. He made us show him our room, and then he went to look all around the base. Until I showed him the security footage of you leaving he didn't stop looking around.”

“I feel like an asshole.” You admit, unable to look at him and focusing on your hands together with his. Your fingertips find their way inside the glove and you begin to caress the palm of his hand mindlessly.

“It was a pretty asshole move.” Ghost chuckles looking down at your hands. “But I can understand why you would do it, everyone else too. No one blames you for doing it, birdie. You know that, right?”

It is then that you notice the current situation, Ghost is sitting side by side with you. Thigh pressing yours, one of his hands is on your lap with your own hand inside his glove caressing his skin, feeling the warmth. His other arm is resting on the back of your chair, and his hand find its way to your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb and moving your head to look at him.

He is wearing a basic black balaclava, no paint around his eyes, and you can see his blonde lashes for how close he is to you. Unconsciously, you look to where you know his lips are and you notice movement under the mask, he is smiling. He sighs and presses his forehead with yours. “C’mon, birdie. I made a promise this morning, don't make me break it so fast.”

“A promise?” You ask curious as you look back to the hands on your lap.

“Yeah, to Price. You are not supposed to know it.” He chuckles. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

And you shouldn't push it, you should be nice. But you are nosy and he hasn't said no jet. So you look up to him, through your lashes and ask softly. “I won't say anything… please?”

He groans closing his eyes and pulls his head back looking ahead of you. “How can I say it?” He pulls the hand from behind your head to rub his face. “Price and I talked last night, about how since we met there has been an… attraction between all of us.”

“Okay.” You agree, feeling a light blush rise on your face.

“And we talked about how we did a poor attempt at having control over it. And how we basically jumped you, and that was wrong of us, like, you were literally handcuffed when you were with Gaz.” He says sighing, feeling embarrassed with himself. “And I definitely shouldn't have done it the way I did.”

“It's okay.” You admit, still unable to look at his face. “I didn't complain… wait.” You say finally looking up at him. “You knew Gaz and I were…”

“Humping each other like teenagers? Yeah, I noticed.” He says chuckling when he sees your shocked expression. “Birdie, I took the car for maintenance the next morning to check the car's suspension because of how many potholes and curbs I hit. And you think I didn't do it or purpose?”

You cover your face with your hands chuckling in embarrassment, Ghost hugs you from the side bringing you close to his chest making you feel the vibrations from his laughs. “Are you getting shy now, birdie?” He asks and you nod, unable to answer. He then gets close to your ear and whispers: “You weren't shy when I had my tongue up your ass.”

You shriek slapping his arms to get away making him laugh with his whole chest and when you manage to get up, he grabs your hips keeping you within arm's reach. “Let me go, I'm going to sleep.” You say trying to keep some kind of pride.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, was just playing.” He says standing up and hugging you again. “Just like how I played with your clit.”

“Shut up!” You exclaim, heating up, whether it is from embarrassment or something else, is not important right now. He laughs again and drops a kiss on the top of your head as a peace offering: “Go to bed, birdie. I'm sure you didn't get much sleep last night.”

You slap his arm one last time before walking down the hall, but he calls you again making you turn: “Take this, is a burner phone, so no one can track you through the phone. Price, Soap, Gaz and my number are already on. If you need to send anyone else a message or something, we will send it through your phone back at base, the antenna back at the base makes it impossible to track.”

You take the phone from his hand and slap your forehead when you see the time. “I need to call my boss!”

“About that, you don't have to worry about it. You are now on a witness protection system, so you actually can't just go. Price is going to talk to him, and he will figure it out. Price will take care of it, don't worry.”

You nod, not completely convinced, and after getting a kiss on your forehead you get inside the room, ready to sleep.

A couple of hours later, the clatter of pans and dishes wakes you up. You look at the time and realise you have slept almost all morning, so you stretch still on the bed, stand up, wash your face in the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen when you are met with Kyle's back.

“Morning.” You say smiling walking up to him. He whips around looking disproportionately scared by the situation and you look at him confused.

“Fuck sake, doll. We gotta get you a bell or something, almost shit myself.” He says with a hand on his chest and you laugh at him.

“That's what you get for being a snitch!” You exclaim putting your hands on your hips.

A perfect smile appears on his face that gets you weak on your knees, and he cups your face still smiling. Dammit, pretty boy. “I just couldn’t help it, luv. You look irresistible when you are flustered.” He says giving you a peck on your cheek. “Are you hungry? I brought you some groceries and bought you lunch.”

You look over his shoulder to check what he bought, and satisfied with his choice you bit the bait of his peace offering. “You are safe for now.”

The safe house is far from a mansion, but still, it is much better than your flat. More than one person can fit into the kitchen, there is a sofa and an armchair in the living room with a TV on a coffee table. Down the hall, there are two rooms and a bathroom with an actual bathtub inside. So yeah, a lot better than the old one.

Kyle and you have lunch on the sofa, and after you both stay seated basking in each other company. You can't help but stare at him and think about the first time you were close to him.

In just the last two days, you have grinded yourself against Kyle's dick, kissed and gotten yourself eaten out and fingered by Price, gotten your ass eaten and pussy fingered by Ghost and kissed and throat fucked by Soap.

Truly an interesting Tuesday.

It's not like you had never done those things before, but still, before them, it has always happened after a relationship was built and not in the order it happened that's for sure.

Fooling around with Kyle was rejuvenating, you are not even old, but still, it felt like fooling around with your first boyfriend. Horny enough to need to feel each other but not ready still to face the vulnerability of getting naked in front of each other.

With Price, he made you feel like a fucking goddess. As if he should be the one thanking you for eating you out. You could hear him moan against your cunt and there was not a centimetre of skin he didn't kiss that night. Such a soft way to make love it almost didn't make sense how nasty he make out with your pussy that night.

Simon was the opposite like a professor teaching a bratty student their place. Any of these men could have you on your knees begging if they put their mind into it, but Simon made you want to act up. Pull his string and step on his nerves. He left you so vulnerable, completely naked and exposed to him, and still, there was not a second where you didn't feel safe.

And Johnny. Oh, sweet, sweet Johnny. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him again. Something about the way he whined your name when you had only barely touched him, the way his pupils almost got a heart shape when you kneel before him.

But that little shit had a big mouth, not that he meant to cause harm, you know that. Unlike Gaz, the second little shit truly was striking for gold this morning. And now, he was sitting on the other side of the sofa, with your feet on his lap looking all innocent and completely unbothered by everything.

So calm.

It bothered you.

Little shit doesn't deserve peace and calm.

Little shit deserves a kick on his balls.

But just when you are about to, you remember his face last night when he saw you enter the mess hall, looking terrified and like a wounded puppy. He looked so worried, and he hugged you so warmly. So the kick doesn't arrive, instead, you plant the heel of your foot right on his crotch forcing a grunt out of him.

“Easy, luv” He says rubbing your ankles.

“You deserve worse.” You say looking at his face as you keep pushing around.

“Rude, why do you say tha-at?” He asks half moaning the last word.

“You were going to rat me out this morning.” You answer beginning to move your foot up and down his growing erection.

He closes his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “You just look so delicious when you are flustered, doll. Couldn't help myself, would you forgive me?”

“I'm not sure yet, I'm still deciding.” You respond, pressing with a bit more force on his tip earning a moan from his throat.

“Take all the time you need.” He mumbles as he starts to move his hips against your feet.

Confusion floods your brain for a second, Ghost couldn't even kiss you this morning because he had given his word to Price but Gaz was happily humping your feet for his satisfaction.

Did Price don't make him promise? No, that doesn't sound logical. Kyle was the one who started everything, Price must have made him promise more than everyone else. Kyle simply doesn't care about it.

Price won't like that.

If only Price got to know Gaz had broken his promise.

There it is, your kick on his balls.

Figuratively.

For now.

You sit up, removing your feet momentarily earning a whine from Gaz at the loss. He looks at you with a pout on his face, cheeky bastard. It only lasts until he sees you undo his belt, and then a boyish smile appears on his face.

He reclines with a smug smirk on his face and looks up to you as you get his growing boner free. You lick a thick strip of spit into your hand and start to stroke his dick slowly. You look at his face and he looks back delighted.

“If you treat me like this every time I bother you, I'm not stopping ever, luv” He says between whispered moans.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You ask chuckling.

“When my mouth is busy.” He admits, licking his bottom lip and leaving his mouth half open so moans can slip easily.

“It's that so?” You ask, and with your free hand you raise your t-shirt exposing your tits with a little bounce that Gaz doesn't miss by the way his dick twitch in your hand.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv.” He says beginning to move his head, but you pull his hair back and pressed your tit against his head which he gladly begins to suck onto making you groan softly.

“Much better.” You sigh closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth against your nipple, you move your hand from his head down to his jaw caressing it and feeling the muscles of his jaw flex as he makes out with your boob.

Slowly and shamelessly, Gaz's hand find its way down your back. He doesn't bother to play coy, and as soon as the hand reach your waist, it goes under your pants and your underwear grabbing a handful of your ass cheek making you whine.

You press your thumb and index in his cheek, pressing between his teeth forcing him to open his mouth and say: “Play nice or I won't play with you, Garrick.”

He smiles at you as much as he can with his cheeks pushes and sticks his tongues out to lick your nipple. “Yes, ma'am.”

You could still kick him, literally. It would be faster and it'll probably erase the stupid smug smile from his face. But patience is a virtue.

So you shove his face against your boob again, and sigh when you feel his fingers travel down your lips. He moans when he feels your wetness just for your disgrace, the last thing you needed was to grow his ego. He slips them between your lips, gathering up the wet arousal pooling on your panties. He moves then to the front and begins to rub your clit with his fingertips.

There is precum leaking from his tip, and you bring your fingers up to press your thumb against his slip and circle it, smearing his precum around it, making him moan.

“Let's go to the bed, Kyle.” You half mumbles half moans.

“Let me just do it here, doll. Inaugurate the living room” He mumbles against your skin. You slap him on the back of his head and stand up.

“I'm planning on having most of my meals on this sofa, so get up.” You argue pulling his hand.

“If you are still hungry, I have something you could eat.” He jokes as he stands up, making you look at him with a grimace look on your face making him laugh.

“Don't ever say anything like that, Kyle. For god sake.” You say shaking your head as you walk your way to the room. You open the door and quickly take the rest of your clothes. You look back at Gaz who is looking at you a bit stunned and you chuckle. “I think it would make it a lot easier if you took off your clothes.”

He pulls his t-shirt from the back of his head throwing it somewhere, and gets rid of his clothes as he walks up to you. When he was almost bent over himself on the sofa, whining around your boob, it was easy to get confident and boss him around. Now, with both standing up and as he gets closer to you, you need to look up because of the size difference. He notices it too, how you start to speak softer and your expression is kinder.

He chuckles to himself, positioning his hands under your arm and effortlessly throws you back on the bed, crawling over you instantly. You try to sit up, leaning on your elbows but a firm hand on your chest gets you flat on the bed soon.

You look up to him and see him cock his head like a dog. “What?” You ask and it makes him smile with that fucking toothpaste ad smile. “There it is, I thought you lost your voice. You went silent so suddenly.” He teases.

“Oh, shut up, Kyle.” You say chuckling and pinch his nipple making him chuckle as well. For a second you stay chuckling, looking at each other and enjoying the opposite company. Until suddenly it feels a bit too intimate, and almost at the same time, you make eye contact feeling shy regardless of the lack of clothing.

So you cup his face with both hands and pull him close kissing him on the lips. If he can’t see the affection in your eyes, he can't accuse you of anything.

He caresses your hip, drawing circles with his thumb as he slowly reaches your mount and you slightly spread your legs involuntarily.

“Eager little thing.” He mumbles against your lips smiling, and you bite back: “I can feel you leaking onto my thighs, Kyle. Don't get cocky.”

He chuckles under his breath and without more preamble one of his finger finds his way inside your cunt as he uses the palm to rub your clit making you moan. Wet kisses travel down your throat when you move your hands to the back of his face, his finger’s movement becoming faster and not for long before a second one finds his way inside as well. You lower one of your hands to rub his erection against your tights, feeling the wet spot at his tip growing.

Fuck does it feel good to be desired.

Little moans of your name leave Kyle's mouth against your neck giving you goosebumps and causing you to squirm in his hand needy of more.

“Kyle… please” You moan throwing your head back.

“Not yet, doll. I wanna see you come as prettily as you did on the car again before I get my dick inside this little tight cunt.” He groans against your cheek.

You moan at his crude words arching your back, twisting your face to kiss him. Teeth clashing in the process, but too desperate to care. The band on your stomach snaps almost surprising you, and for a second you can hear your ears ring. Kyle’s hand is still rubbing your clit, but almost like a feather now helping you ride out your orgasm.

You make eye contact with him, checking on you to see if you are alright and when he is satisfied he sits up, pulling you closer circling your legs around his slim waist and palms his erection; rubbing your clit with his tip. “Are you all right, luv? Need another second?”

“Fuck me already, Garrick” You tease propping yourself up on your elbows.

Kyle smirks at you and slowly enters his dick stretching you out; he leans down closer to your face and you both moan on each other mouth as he enters. Slowly enters, and then draws back, just to enter a bit more. Little by little, as he kisses your mouth passionately. Your hands on his back slightly scratch his skin making him groan softly between moans, his tongue enters your mouth caressing your own.

This all started as a way to get Gaz in trouble, but honestly, you are starting to hope it doesn't work. Just so you have to try again.

“Fuck, doll. Such a sweet lovely cunt” He mumbles, already losing his mind, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. “Sucking me in so fucking nice.”

It shouldn't turn your own as much, such crude words, but you are not really thinking clearly and every word that leaves Gaz’s mouth is like a compliment to your core that makes you clench against his dick.

“Do you like that, doll?” He asks against your neck dropping little open mouth kisses. “Hm? When I tell you how fucking godly you feel, luv?”

“Yes, fuck, yes” You moan back, curling your legs and pushing him closer, wanting him to go deeper as if you were not feeling him up to your cervix already.

His hand found its way down to your clit, circling it with his fingertip, making you meowl at the sudden extra stimulation. You can feel your orgasm approach, and you open your eyes to look at Kyles's face.

But when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Price leaning against the doorframe; cigar in hand, a disapproving look on his face and a formidable hard erection on his pants. You lock eyes with him, a shameless smile creeping in and making Price shake his head with a similar smile on his face.

The focus quickly moves back to Gaz when he starts to thrust more shallowly, rubbing your clit quickly. “Cum for me, please. I wanna feel you come around me, please, please, doll, please.” He moans against your skin, and completely ignoring Price's presence, you come undone in harmony with Gaz.

Little black dots blur your vision for a second because of the surprising pleasure, almost missing the way Gaz moans your name we come undone following you. You are not sure if you are seeing or imagining when you see Price walk out of the room, and when you try to raise your head to see you come face to face with Gaz. “You okay, luv?” He asks with heavy breathing looking at your face and smiling.

You nod at him smiling, simmering in the afterglow of your orgasms. Only breaks away when something drops next to your head on the bed.

Gaz and you turn to look at Price who is now standing behind Gaz. “Shit.” Gaz mumbles trying to peel away from you, only for Price to press a hand on his back pushing him back against you making you both groan since Gaz is still inside you.

“No, no, please, don't stop on my behalf. I wouldn’t like to bother you.” He says dryly, no vestige of humour in his voice.

Gaz looks at you, making eye contact for a second until both of you turn to look at whatever it was that fell next to you, and when you see the lube bottle it finally sinks in what the two of you have just done.

Both of you quickly try to look at him, kind of guilting the other to not get the short side of the stick. “Settle down you pair of brats.” Price says, he sits on the back of Gaz’s thighs, pressing him deeper making both of you softly moan again. He uncaps the bottle, pouring a fat blob of it in his fingers and pulling Gaz’s hair back making him arch his back once he throws the bottle back. “Unlike this brat, I’m not gonna fuck you, birdie. But the two of you put on such a show that has me in need of some… release.” He says while he caresses Gaz’s hole with his fingertips, getting through the muscle ring as he enunciates the last word.

“Shit, Captain…” Gaz moans, feeling your cunt clench when you feel his dick twitch back to life for a second time. “Don’t “Captain” me now, Kyle. What about your truce? Did any of my words get to your head or was all your blood down on your dick when I was talking to you?”

Gaz is not the only one getting the reprimand, a new cocktail of feelings is developing inside you. There are some hints of shame, the shame of getting caught mid-orgasm, the shame of Price barely acknowledging you at all, and the shame of feeling like you are intruding on whatever arrangement they had before you came into the picture. Again, the little self-aware thoughts that permanently reside in your mind appear, making you aware of the situation.

A loud moan from Gaz brings you out of it before they can materialise, and you come face to face to the fuck out face of Price after bottoming inside of Gaz. Having sex with Gaz was gentle, with more roll of hips and deep thrusts; but Price? He is obviously annoyed with the both of you, and his hard and fast thrusts are proof of it.

You can feel Gaz’s dick hardening inside you stretching you again. And even though he isn’t physically pulling in and out, Price's thrust forces his hips to roll against you giving you a delicious constant stimulus both inside and against your clit. That, joint with the fact that Gaz is moaning in such a filthy way against the skin of your neck quickly has you moaning in tandem with him. Bitting your lips to quiet them, feeling like they are not wanted, like you are just collateral damage to Price and Gaz's little get-together.

You force your eyes close when you feel Price look at you, he furrows his eyebrows when he notices you looking uncomfortable. Are you not enjoying it? Why do you turn away from him?

He switches his rhythm, caressing Gaz’s hips with a hand and bending down to cup your face with the other. He grazes your bottom lips freeing from your bite and drops his thumb inside your mouth making you lick it. He drops down to your ear to whisper: “Don't run from me, sweetheart. Not again, please.”

He raises his hand on Gaz's hips to hug him on his chest, pulling him close to him, and biting him on his shoulder. With what little space that earns Gaz, he begins to move between you and Price, earning a moan from everyone in the room.

It is such a filthy scene, so porn-worth, still, there is such a palpable sense of care from everyone involved. Fuck, the moment they get bored of you it's going to hurt like a bitch.

“I can't!” Gaz moans, the overstimulation getting the best of him. Poor boy getting his prostate destroyed and his dick milked at the same time. You can't barely manage yourself, you pity him. But again, that's what he gets for snitching.

“Yes, you can. And you will.” Price moans against his neck, and at the same time he drags his hand down your body just to rub your clit causing a chain reaction when you clench for the reaction, causing Gaz to groan and clench as well.

Is not much longer until you feel Gaz finish inside you for a second time, drooling against your shoulder skin while he hugs you needy of something to ground him. You quickly hug him back when you feel yourself spilling over the edge, and just a couple of seconds later Price finishes as well inside of Gaz.

He drops himself over the two of you earning a groan from you for being squished by both men, but you only get a chuckle in return from the both of them. “At least like this, we know you aren’t going to go running again.” Gaz murmurs against your skin only for you to hear, warming your heart.

“The two of you are gonna give me a headache, I just know.” Price mumbles kissing his bite mark on Gaz’s shoulder while making eye contact with you. “Get washed, dressed and come down to the living room. We have a little meeting the five of us.”

When he goes to sit up, you quickly grab his shirt pulling him close and ask softly. “Can we stay like this for a little more, please?” The neediness and clinginess being too hard to ignore.

Kyle and Price look at you as if you are the most precious thing on the whole planet and quickly nod going back to the weird body pile you were on. “Yeah, of course we can.”

Heyaa, how are you? 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

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clxja16 · 9 months

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Enough

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: betrayal (?)

Warnings: I think there's some swearing, angst

Word Count: 5K+

Author's Note: Okay you guys voted for this one, and honestly I thought that the fake dating trope was going to win but I guess not. also I kind of need help with the genre, because its not really forbidden lovers. Like is there a genre of your parents betraying your trust in the name of protecting you??? but anyway lmk what you guys think. Actually please tell me what you think, because I'm scared I made this too dramatic. enjoy though <3

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You lingered in one of the back halls before the start of qualifying. It was the Austrian Grand Prix. You looked around making sure that no one was in sight. Charles started to giggle at your antics of keeping this under wraps. You pulled at him, trying to push him right out the door.

“Go back to your garage,” you say gently pushing Charles further out the back entry of the Mercedes garage.

“After I get a good luck kiss?” Charles asks, as he holds his hands up in surrender.

You shake your head at him, before saying, “quickly, before someone sees us,” pulling Charles into a kiss, by his race suit. Charles grabs your face with both hands, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss further. You pull away first, worried about who might catch you sneaking about the garage halls, “okay now go, I’ll see you tonight.”

Charles doesn’t let go of your face, pulling you back in for a quick peck on the lips, “okay I’m going.” Charles finally lets you go, and shoots you a quick wink before walking off.

You turn back around to take your place in the garage next to your father, when you hear him calling out for you. You look back to see Charles has walked just far enough away to be out of sight, as your father turns the corner to come face to face with you. You let out a breath of relief that they missed each other. “y/n,” your father calls to your attention, “let’s get settled, qualifying is about to start.”

“Yes, daddy,” you answer, following after your father, to watch qualifying.

You have just finished your degree, a Masters in Business Administration from HBS and a Masters of Science from Harvard John A. Paulson SEAS. It took you nearly 5 and a half years to complete, but you did it regardless. Now, you attend the races to better learn how to apply the knowledge learnt in school to running a formula one team. This is all so that one day you will take over the formula one team from your father.

As you watched George and Lewis set out to do their first few qualifying laps of the session, you longed for it to be you in those cars. You really didn't dream of being behind the scenes, you dream of being up front and center, in the limelight, in the car. You wanted to set the fastest lap, you wanted to be getting grand prix victories, you wanted to win championships. However, you didn’t get a seat in formula 2, so your parents did the ‘reasonable’ thing and sent you off to school, instead of waiting around for the chance of a seat opening up.

“Look here,” your father spoke to you, as he pointed at some data on one of the many monitors in front of him.

“George is a tenth too early,” you say, trying your best to understand the data in front of you.

“Yes, exactly, good,” your father praises, before speaking with a couple of the race engineers. “Now we don’t want George to overly focus on what is going wrong, so we praise, advice and praise again.” You listen to the radio as the engineer, compliments George on his turn 3 and 4, critiques his turn 7, and compliments his turn 10 and 11. “When you take over, you have to remember that you are going to have to manage the drivers' psyche as well as their driving.”

“Father, I won’t be taking over for a long time, you’re gonna need to find someone in between you and me, to manage the team.”

“No,” your father declares, like his decision is final, “I will retire late, and you will start early.”

“Yes Father,” you say, no reason to start an argument now.

“Congratulations on another podium,” you spoke sweetly to Charles at the end of the Austrian grand prix weekend. You and him were hiding out in his hotel room, trying your best to stay away from the cameras, from fans and most importantly from your father.

“It’s only the second podium of the season,” Charles said as he dried his hair with the towel while walking out of the bathroom. “We’re so far behind this season, it’s laughable.”

“You could always make the move to Mercedes, Daddy would love to have you racing for him,” you say, as you wrap your arms around Charles, after he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

You can hear Charles chuckle a little, before turning around to face you. “Never,” he says with a smile, pushing you back down on the bed, kissing you deeply. You can’t contain the laughter that spills from your lips.

“We would make sure you win championships,” you argue, teasing Charles once again.

“And who’s giving up a seat for me?” Charles asks, as he moves from your lips down your neck, spreading his kisses all around.

“Lewis isn’t going to stay much longer,” you reveal.

“What?” Charles asked, as he pulled away to look at you. The seriousness setting in.

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you start off, as you sit up in the bed, looking at Charles deeply, “Daddy offered Lewis another four years, Lewis said he only wanted to sign on for two more right now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, “believe it or not, Lewis does not reveal his intentions to me like you do.”

Charles cracks a smile hearing you tease, “well, maybe I could do Mercedes silver,” he says as he goes back to kissing you.

You and Charles spend the night together, as the two of you have done many times before. The next morning, you try to sneak out early enough where no one notices your empty hotel room. Charles makes your heart feel full, being around him makes you feel at peace, he wears your worries like his own. He’s everything you ever wanted and needed, and more. You know that there was no plausible way you could keep this a secret any longer. You love him too much to pretend nothing is going on. Although, you also know that your father would not be the happiest, he always said drivers weren’t the type of people you bring home. However Charles is different, you know he’s what you need, you know that you can bring him home.

When you did make it back to your own hotel room, you don’t think anyone checked in on the empty room. You made quick work of packing up your belongings, your father was flying out of Vienna this afternoon, to get a jumpstart on Silverstone. It being a home grand prix for both of your drivers, the entire week was packed with events. All events in which you had to attend.

After arriving in Silverstone, did you finally take a breather. George and Lewis both went to visit their families for the first day. This allowed you and your father to spend some time away from the race track. Father instead just went to the factory, and spent some time in the office. You on the other hand went out with Mamma, before she had to head down to Monza for the F1 Academy race.

“Mamma,” you called out to Susie, “do you think Daddy is serious about me taking over the team one day?”

Your question was enough to stop Susie in her tracks, “yes, I do think he’s serious about it.” She gave you a perplexed look. Your father has been talking about you taking over the team since you went off to college. He is determined that with his recommendation the board will approve for the team principal position.

“I don’t know if that’s what I want to do though,” you say truthfully. “I don’t know if I can handle being so close, but not being able to race.” As much as your mind was focused on being a team principal, your heart wanted to drive.

Susie came up to you, pushing your hair behind your ear, holding your face. She had a gentle smile on her face, but there was a sadness behind her eyes that you couldn’t place. “You are racing, if you take over the team, you are still a part of the race, but if you walk away, you will only be a spectator.”

You sigh, you know she’s right, “you’re right, like you always are.”

Susie laughs at your joke, “tell your Father because he never seems convinced that I’m always right.”

You laugh, as you and Susie enter the restaurant for lunch. “Mamma, can I ask you another question?”

“Of course sweetheart,” Susie answers worryingly, you are not normally this ominous.

“Would you be upset if I started seeing a driver?”

Susie doesn’t hide the shock on her face, after your question, “who is it?” She smirks at you, you weren’t the best at hiding your feelings from Susie. She was the first to know about your first boyfriend in High school. She was the first to know about the guy who cheated on you. She was the first to know about the college boy you wanted to bring home. And she was the first to know that none of them were enough to match you.

“It’s no one, it's just a hypothetical, Mamma.”

“Who, sweetheart?”

You debate for a second about how to answer, but you know you can’t lie. You gave away too much, and Susie knows you only use ‘hypothetical’ when it's real. “Charles.”

“Leclerc?” Susie doesn’t mask her shock for a single second.

“Mamma,” you whine at her reaction.

“Sweetheart, your father is gonna have an aneurysm when he hears this.”

“Mamma,” you whine again, this time more seriously, as you feel the water works coming on.

“Sweetheart?” Susie questions, her face going from shock to stone cold serious as she sees how upset you are. “This is serious.”

You sigh, “I really like him, Mamma. He makes me very happy.” You look at Susie, and you don’t like the look she has even more.

She looks very seriously at you, while also having the ‘its not good’ look. “Your father is not going to like this,” she says honestly, “but,” you watch Susie as she begins to smile, “if you’re happy, that is what's important.”

You begin to smile as well, “Daddy will get over it right?”

“I hope so,” Susie says truthfully. You were Toto’s oldest, nothing would ever be good enough for you. You were his pride and joy, you were the first, and as the first, you are everything to your father. Susie knows this, and she knows that no matter how much Charles tries, Toto still won’t think he’s good enough for you.

Susie reminds you that the best way to handle this, is to inform your father sooner rather than later. You agree, but you want to make sure that you and Charles are on the same page as well. Thursday night, once again you are hiding out in Charles' hotel room, instead of staying in your own room. The two of you cuddle together on the bed as a movie plays on the TV.

“Charles,” you start off softly, afraid to disturb the delicate peace that’s settled across the room, “where do you see this going?”

“What do you mean by that?” Charles asked, as he glanced at you.

“Us, our relationship, where do you see it going?” You stared at Charles, while listening to his steady heartbeat.

“I don’t know,” Charles answers, his answer holds a brutal truth that you don’t like, you sit up to look at Charles, “but, I hope it goes far and long.” Charles continues to lay in bed while you stare at him, “ I hope that it gets out of hotel rooms, and garage halls, and private phone calls. I hope it gets you into some red Ferrari gear,” you smile at Charles’ preposterous hope, “I hope that it gets further than this. I love you y/n.”

“I love you too,” you reassure.

“Why do you ask me that ma chère?”

“I’m going to tell my father about us,” you say, “and your plans to move to Mercedes.” You just have to tease him a little bit.

Charles laughs at you, “you mean your plans to be a Ferrari fan from now on.” And he always knew how to handle your teasing.

You laugh going to kiss Charles, “that’s so much work,” you say with another kiss, “you should just switch teams.”

Charles laughs sarcastically, he loves the banter. “y/n,” he calls. It stops you, he never uses your name, “I really do love you.” He’s probably told you this same sentiment over a thousand times, but each time, it still feels like the first time.

Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling, “I love you too.” Somehow these ‘I love you's' are different, they’re more significant, more meaningful, more genuine, more heartfelt, more profound. They’re more serious, because they’re not just ‘I love you,’ they’re a promise, a commitment, a lifetime, together.

“Daddy, please can you be rational about this?” You ask as you follow your father about the Monaco home. Trying to get him to stop complaining about your choices in men.

“Why couldn’t you date George, at least you would still be supporting Mercedes,” your Father says as the two of you make your way into the kitchen to see Mamma and Jack.

“Mamma do you hear him?” You ask, indicating your father as ‘him.’ “George is very much in a relationship, Father”

“And what’s wrong with Lewis?” Your father clearly is not thinking about the age difference between you and Lewis.

You looked to Mamma to see if your father was serious, and even she was shocked with the suggestion, “you would be okay with me dating someone that is 14 years my senior?” you ask with a brow raised to your father, “you’ve convinced me Daddy, I will stop seeing Charles and start seeing Lewis.”

Your father sighs, “that is not what I…”

“Daddy, I invited Charles over for dinner, tomorrow night, that way you can properly meet him as my partner, instead of as a driver.” You tell your father, hoping that you're just imagining the steaming coming out of his ears, “one dinner, Daddy, that’s all. He makes me really happy.”

“Okay,” your Father says. You don’t miss the slight eye roll he gives though.

“Thank you Daddy,” you say, giving him a hug, before running off to your room like a teenage girl to call Charles and let him know about dinner tomorrow night.

After your father hears your bedroom door shut, does he turn to his wife. “Susie,” he calls out, still listening for you, to see if you were coming back out. “A word, privately.”

“Okay,” Susie answers a bit confused about the request, she turns to Jack, “why don’t you go play for right now.” Jack nods along excitedly, before running out the room. “Toto, what is it?”

“She can’t date Charles.” Toto says, turning his full attention to his wife.

“What?”

“Susie, I have seen the drivers in relationships. They have their girlfriend one weekend, then they have a club girl the next weekend, and then some lucky fan the following weekend. Charles is no different.” Toto doesn’t hold back in his recounting of the drivers stepping out on their partners, “y/n is gonna get hurt, and her entire image will be tainted by being cheated on by Charles.”

“Toto don’t you think you’re being a little unfair.” Susie tries her best to defend Charles, but she knows Toto is telling the truth. She’s seen it too, from a number of drivers amongst the ranks throughout the years.

“Charles is a hell of a driver, but I'm not gonna allow him to ruin my daughter.” Toto declares as final, “we need to find a way to stop them from seeing each other before the public catches wind of their relationship.”

“Toto,” Susie takes a breath, if they do this, they would have to tread very carefully, or they could end more than just your relationship with Charles. “If she ever finds out that we are interfering in her life like this, she won’t forgive us, she's not a kid anymore.”

“She wasn’t a kid when we pulled her from racing,” Toto drags up a long forgotten and regretted moment, “we do what we have to, to protect our children, regardless of how it may look.”

“We’ll need to play this close to the vest.”

To say the evening was filled with tension and awkwardness would be an understatement. Your father continuously gave Charles dirty looks throughout the night, and you wanted to slap him for being so childish. Susie was pleasant throughout the evening. Jack was just being Jack. He probably talked the most, asking Charles about what it was like to be a real race car driver.

“This is a very lovely meal,” Charles says to Susie. You appreciate him trying his best to not ruffle your father’s feathers.

“Thank you Charles,” Susie appreciates the compliments. She doesn’t know what is best, because Toto is determined to stop you and Charles from seeing each other.

“Charles, did you ever pee in the car?” Jack asks, as he shovels another pile of food in his mother.

“Jack,” you say in a scolding manner, while Charles just laughs at the question.

Charles has to take a sip of water before answering, “I try my best to make sure I use the bathroom before I get into the car.”

“Enough questions Jack,” you say to your little brother, getting irritated with how much he was talking.

“I just wanted to ask the racecar driver,” Jack pouts. He makes that face with an exaggerated frown, that almost makes you feel guilty.

“Jack, we’re all race car drivers. Me, Mamma and Daddy have all raced cars before and you never ask us.” you argue back, you almost feel stupid that you have to argue with a five year old.

“But you didn’t make it to formula 1,” Jack points out, and now you don’t feel guilty, you just feel sad that Jack had to point out one of your biggest regrets in life.

“Jack,” Susie says, scolding your brother.

“I didn’t know you raced,” Charles says, turning to look at you.

You smile, thinking back to the time, “Yeah, I did karting for years, then I did formula renault, F4 and F3.”

“Why did you stop?” Charles asks, wondering how you could give it up.

“I didn’t get a seat in Formula two, and the agreement was if I could get a seat I could race, but I wouldn’t pass up opportunities to race. I got into college, so I gave up racing and went back to school.” You reveal to Charles, he can hear the regret in your voice, but he chooses not to point it out. You don’t see that look Susie and Toto exchange when they hear your retelling of events.

“I see,” Charles says, “It’s a shame, I think you would’ve been a hell of a driver.”

You chuckle at Charles, “I would definitely have more wins than you by now,” you tease.

“Oh?” Charles smirks at you, “you would?”

“Of course I would, because I would be driving for Mercedes, for sure.” You chuckle at your own joke.

Charles shakes his head at you, his smile spreading far and wide. Susie watches you and Charles, she's been watching you throughout the night and she knows Charles is enough for you. She knows that this is your person, that they will never be another that will be able to compete with Charles. It's him or nothing.

You skip the Hungarian grand prix, especially as the media releases pictures of you and Charles, going back to the Monaco Grand Prix. Your father thought it best that you stay home, he wasn’t sure how people would react to the relationship news. You spent a few days before your father left for Hungary, arguing with him that it was unfair to bench you, because of the possibility that fans won’t like the news.

Clearly, your father won that argument as you sat at home in Monaco, watching the sessions through the TV, instead of being there in person. What Toto doesn’t tell you, is that he wants you home, so that he can meet with Fred without you getting suspicious.

After the qualifying session, Toto asked Fred, the team principal of Ferrari, to join him for dinner. As the two men met away from the paddock, away from the cameras, from the drivers, from the team. They sat in a private dining room, in an elite restaurant. Only here did Toto feel comfortable asking what he was about to ask.

“What are we doing here Toto?” Fred asks, as he sips the beer he ordered. Fred wouldn’t say it, betraying his French roots, but he always preferred a bottle of beer over a glass of wine.

“Fred, I have a favor to ask,” Toto requests, he ignores his gut feeling telling him that this is wrong, and continues on, “I want you to delay Charles' contract signing.”

“Why would I do that?” Fred asks, delaying a contract signing seems like it’s not a big deal, but there's many implications to what that could mean.

“You would do it, because then I will be in debt to you,” Toto says, he's thought about this, he knows his way through a negotiation.

“Okay,” Fred says, he has a reason to do so, but what is Toto’s reason for asking? “Now why do you need me to do this?”

Toto sighs, “y/n.”

“Your daughter, I saw the news about her Charles,” Fred pauses, taking another sip of the beer, “well actually Charles told me about the relationship back in Miami.”

“Miami?” Toto questions, “she didn’t tell me until after silverstone.”

“Charles said he wanted me to know before the public knew, would like to know what else he said?”

“What?” Toto sighs, once more.

“Charles said he wants to do this right, that he is serious about her,” Fred offers.

“We’ve both heard drivers say one thing and do another,” Toto fixes his posture, sitting up in the chair, “I won’t allow my daughter’s image to be run through by Charles.”

“So you want me to delay a contract signing, to do what? So you can scare Charles into picking a seat over your daughter? And what happens when he picks your daughter over his seat?” Fred sits up in his chair as well, looking Toto square in the eyes.

“If he picks my daughter over his seat, then I know he’s serious about her,” Toto stands upm buttoning his jacket, “but we both know he won’t do that.” Toto sticks out his hand for Fred to shake.

Fred stands to shake Toto’s hand, “this doesn’t mean I agreed to anything.”

“You will agree,” Toto smiles, a little amused at the situation, “we both know me in debt to you is too valuable to pass up.”

Since the news of your relationship has been made public, you and Charles are seen together around the paddock during the Belgian Grand Prix a lot more. Although you guys did try to keep it as professional as possible, there weren't any public displays of affection between the two of you. However, that went straight out the window after the race podium celebration.

Instead of watching the podium you stayed in the garage with your father, since there wasn’t a Mercedes on the podium. As soon as Charles was done with the podium celebration, he ran straight into the Mercedes garage to collect a celebratory kiss from you. His, sweaty, champagne-covered, sticky self, pulling you into a tight hug with a deep kiss. He had one arm wrapped around your waist, while his other hand held onto his trophy. You were taken aback by the initial kiss, but soon you cupped his cheek and held him close.

Charles would’ve kissed you longer, but he could feel the cameras on the two of you. When he finally did pull away, you were a giggling mess that you didn’t even notice the cameras at first. “Let’s go,” Charles whispers to you, “let’s get out of here.”

You wanted desperately to leave right then and there with Charles, “I can’t,” you say. You watch his smile drop just a little, “I have work to finish,” you say while giving the side eye to where your father sat in the Mercedes garage, watching you and Charles. “And you have a press conference.”

“Okay, after that then.” Charles says, kissing you on the cheek this time.

“After that.”

That night, while you and Charles celebrated his podium finish, the picture of you and him making out in the Mercedes garage after his podium celebrations, hit social media. That photo is more talked about than Max’s 8th grand prix win in a row. That photo is in all the group chats around the paddock. That photo makes it to the official formula 1 social media pages. And the biggest take away is your father’s face in the background of the photo. Everytime you look at it, you laugh knowing that your father most likely made that face subconsciously.

Since summer break has begun, you spend more time with Charles than at home with your family. Today, you just so happen to need a few things from your closet, that you stopped in the Monaco home. That is when you could overhear your parents talking in your father’s office.

“We need to be more discreet about this now,” your father says to Mamma.

“Toto, I don’t think this is right. It’s not fair to y/n or Charles,” Susie says. Normally you wouldn’t eavesdrop on your parents, but the mention of you and Charles caught your attention.

“I am trying to protect our daughter,” Toto says, and you can’t help but think. What is your father trying to protect you from?

“This isn’t protecting her, this is your fear about what could happen,” Susie says. You can hear in your mamma voice, she’s getting defensive.

“Like how your fear pulled her from racing,” Toto says in a raised voice. You’re completely confused as to what your father could mean with that statement.

There’s a pause. It goes silent for a second, and you listen closer. “I was saving her life, we weren’t sure what the FIA would do after Jules.” There’s a pain in Susie’s voice.

“Safety measures were put in place,” Toto argues.

“After you pushed back on them.”

“I have changed my position on the halo, you know that,” Toto says. Even though the wood doors separate you from seeing your parents, you can clearly imagine what this fight is looking like.

“After Lewis almost dies!” Mamma never shouts, is your singular thought after hearing that statement. “What if you had gotten your way and the halo was never placed? What if it was our daughter in that car? I pulled her from racing to save her life, because you sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.” Susie pulls open the office door to see you standing on the other side. You watch her face drop from anger to sadness quickly. “Sweetheart…”

“Mamma… you pulled me from racing?” You question as the tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Sweetheart…” Susie repeats, shes at a complete loss for words.

“You told me that I wasn’t picked up for a seat.” you take a breath before you start crying, “was that the truth?”

“Darling,” Toto calls out to you.

“Was it the truth?” You ask again, this time you make the hurt evident in your voice, “you told me a team didn’t want to pick me for F2, was that the truth?”

“You weren’t anybody’s first choice,” Susie pauses, “but you were on the list.” You feel your break, as you start to cry. “We worked a few negotiations to ensure that you didn’t get picked. We worked to pull you from racing.”

You were a hyperventilating mess, you couldn’t stop the tears, the sobs, the heartbreak from happening. “You told me…You told me, if I earned my seat without you or daddy interfering I could keep racing. You promised that you would let me race.”

“We wanted to protect you, we didn’t want what happened to Jules.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snap at Susie, “don’t use what happened to Jules as an excuse.” You walked away, racing up the stairs. Towards your bedroom, you could hear your parents rushed footsteps as they followed after you. You began to shove clothes into a bag, as you tried to violently wipe away the tears.

“Where are you going?” Your father asks in a calm voice.

“I’m gonna stay with Charles for a while.” When you mention Charles, you remembered the beginning of the conversation. You stopped packing your clothes. Slowly you turned to face your parents. “What did you do?”

“Excuse me?” your father questions.

“What did you do to Charles? Mamma said it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, whatever you were doing. What did you do to Charles daddy?” You’re out of breath, you fear whatever your father has to say.

You watch as your father sighs, he hangs his head. “I asked Fred to delay his contract signing. Ferrari wants to keep Charles, they’re going to give him whatever he wants. I asked for Fred to just hold off on signing the contract.”

You scoff at the revelation. “Just long enough to scare Charles into picking a seat over me. This is rich from the both of you.”

“Sweetheart…” Susie calls out to you as she reaches to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you snap once again. You couldn’t tell if you were really angry or sad or shocked, but you did know you were just hurt. Your parents had taken away your dreams, and they were trying to take away your love. “You took away racing,” you take a breath, you strip away all the excess, you let them hear the hurt in your voice, “I won’t let you take Charles away too.”

When you do make it Charles’ place. When he opens the door for you, he sees you silently crying and shaking. Your voice is hoarse already, that it’s only a whisper when you ask, “can I stay with you for a few days?”

“Of course,” Charles says as he welcomes you inside. When he finally closes the door, you drop your bag to the floor, and just hold onto Charles tightly. He wraps his arms around you, providing you with the comfort you longed for.

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

Part II

#formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc #formula 1 au #formula 1 angst #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #scuderia ferrari #f1 ferrari #f1 charles leclerc #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #toto wolff #toto wolff daughter #toto wolff au

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thebestofoneshots · 10 months

Text

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | TBD (24.04.24)

45 | TBD (01.05.24)

BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

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souliebird · 4 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 12||

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Words: 5k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

Even in the middle of the night, the heat of summer in Hell's Kitchen is oppressive. It doesn't help that there is a storm rolling in and it is so humid Matt feels like he's breathing in water. Sweat is pouring off of him and he's glad he opted out of wearing his red armor - he has the feeling he would have overheated within an hour.

The only good thing about it pushing eighty degrees at two am is that only people that have to be out are out. Even though it is Saturday night/ Sunday morning, the streets are empty and Matt has only encountered people on their way back home. He hasn't even needed to scare off any muggers or stop any break ins. In fact, all he has really done all night is track people to make sure they got to their destinations safely.

There was a small surge of people around midnight coming off the trains and they had been rowdy, but hadn't caused any problems. Matt quickly worked out they were part of the protesters who have been crowding outside the courthouse for the past few days and deemed they were not a threat to his beloved city.

He's spoken to a few of them while at the courthouse and he fully supports their cause and their right to protest. Admittedly, Matt is not one to stay on top of current events, but he thinks it is suspicious that the government will not reveal what caused the massive explosion in Connecticut. It's been weeks but instead of answers, it feels like everything about the incident is being shoved under the rug and Matt knows if it was closer to home, Karen would be chomping at the bit to investigate.

Over six hundred people lost their lives and no one is being brought to justice for it. They are saying it was an attack, but no one is claiming ownership or being blamed for the destruction. It makes him angry, and though this isn't his fight, he'll do his part protecting the voices in his community who demand the truth.

Tonight, it seems like his community is safe and Matt will be able to get more than two hours of sleep before he needs to go to Mass. He needs to do a final pass around the neighborhood before he turns in for the night, so he pushes himself up from where he has been crouching like a gargoyle and stretches his limbs. His knees pop and his back screams at him and he decides that despite the heat, he will take a scorching shower to soothe his muscles. He may not have gotten into any big fights the past few nights, but that doesn't matter to his body - it's always aching and throbbing in one way or another.

He pulls his mask down over his face, hating how it instantly makes his forehead sticky and wet, and starts his loop.

He starts at the top of 10th and weaves across and down until he passes Foggy and Marci’s apartment. He pauses across the street and crouches down as he tunes his ears to their bedroom. They are both in a deep sleep and there is no threat he can detect, but still he stays for a minute just to be sure. Daredevil may have complicated his best friend's life, but Foggy has never had trouble making his own enemies. He may not be a vigilante, but his sense of justice is just as strong as Matt's and that has caused people to come at him violently. Someone breaking in is not out of the question.

Marci has her own enemies but if anyone ever tries to come after her, well, Matt will pray for their soul because not even he is that self-destructive. She once made a joke about becoming a crime lord and he still has the occasional nightmare over it.

Matt scans the surrounding buildings for any problems once more before he starts off towards Karen's place. She was still awake when he last passed her building and the odds of her still being up are pretty even. He wouldn't be surprised to find her typing away at some article - stirring up the pot as always. He loves her for that personality trait, even if it mentally puts him through the ringer with worry over her - he supposes it is nothing compared to what he does to her.

But luckily, for the collective sanity of Nelson, Murdock, and Page, more people care about Karen's well-being than care about Matt's.

He knows she has Jessica's number on speed dial - letting them meet is one of his greatest regrets in life. He is well aware of the cameras set up by Frank's computer friend and while the Marine is out of town, he's left her with another layer of protection - his dog Max.

Not that Karen can't take care of herself.

If she and Marci teamed up to take over Manhattan, Matt doesn't know if he could stop them.

Maybe he'll tell her that for her birthday - it will make a better gift than anything he'd be able to think of.

Matt lands on the roof of Karen's building, relieved to find she has gone to sleep since he last checked on her. She must have let the dog get in bed with her, because it's snoring is making it hard for him to tune into her without concentration. She's safe and seemingly happy, so he lingers only a moment before resuming the last dredges of his patrol.

He heads down to the docks next. There are people there, but they are meant to be - prepping for the fish markets and early morning cargo ships. These are good, hard working men who don't dabble in things that would make the Devil hunt them. In fact, he's got a good contact in one of the fish mongers, who will let him know if there's been anything suspicious in the wee hours of the morning. He doesn't need to check in now, as there have been no whispers as of late, and he disappears back into the shadows of the city to head towards Clinton Church.

Matt's stomach turns as he gets closer to where he grew up. His feelings about the location and the people there have been a ridiculous rollercoaster since he found out he was a father.

He deeply misses Father Lantom. Despite what everyone has told him, he firmly blames himself for the man's death and does not understand why God made that choice. It hurts that he isn't here and Matt can barely bring himself to go into the church - he's only started to re-attend Mass since learning about Minnie to seek guidance from God about this new path. He'd give anything to be able to speak to the man who mentored him in life - to hear what he would say about Matt having a daughter.

It isn't that Matt dislikes the new priest - he just doesn't like him. He's resistant to change and it should be Father Lantom giving Communion and taking his Confession.

It should be Father Lantom who Baptizes Minnie, not this man Matt has never even spoken with.

Maggie is trying to get Matt to interact with the man, but his relationship with her is going through a rocky patch and he hasn't actually spoken with her in about two weeks. She hasn't done anything wrong - he is just having an internal crisis over how learning he is a parent changed him and his abandonment issues. He's spent a lot of time in reflection and understands why she left him and his father, but he now has a renewed anger at her for not telling him the truth sooner.

Did she not love him like he loves Minnie? Was it something he did wrong?

Will she love Minnie like she loved Matt? He trusts her to care for his daughter, but will she love her granddaughter the way she deserves to be loved?

Everything is made more complicated over how guilty he is over having these feelings and so, instead of talking to his mother, he's been avoiding her. He knows he needs to eventually address it, but for the moment Maggie is none the wiser about his mini-me.

He'll tell her after he tells you about her.

It is something he needs to do still - it just hasn't come up yet. Most of your conversations center around Minnie and you are still getting to know each other. You've shared few stories about your childhood - mostly about school - and Matt isn't so sure how your anxiety will handle Maggie. His mother is a good person, but she is a lot and he knows you have your own parent issues.

Like at the docks, there are people active at the Church. A few homeless patrons are seeking shelter before the rain and there is a nun tending to their needs. The kids are safely tucked into bed, and while it sounds like a few are having nightmares, there is nothing he can do for them at the moment.

If they wake and cry out, he prays their calls are answered.

Matt practically flees the sacred grounds and his anxiety only settles once he crosses into Chelsea.

As he runs, he hones his senses to the apartment building you live in. It is easy for him to lock onto - he's already spent countless hours perched on the boundaries of the two neighborhoods listening to you and Minnie sleep. He knows it is creepy, but he cannot help himself.

Minnie’s laugh is his new favorite sound, and not far behind it is your heartbeat. Much like his daughter, he's found himself focusing on it when things get too much and it is the perfect way to end patrols - winding down while you and Mouse dream.

You mumble in your sleep and it is the most endearing thing he's ever encountered. He likes to respond to your strange statements, imagining he's right there in bed with you. There has been a recurring theme of parrots and he is thinking that the bird exhibit will be off limits during Minnie’s birthday trip to the zoo, based on what he's heard.

But it isn't you mumbling in your apartment tonight - it's Minnie.

His daughter is awake and has moved from the bedroom to the living room. The television is on - playing what he thinks is Sesame Street - and she seems to be fussing with a toy. Context clues tell him she's playing with a doll or stuffed animal - dress up is one of her favorite games and he knows it is one of her Quiet Games.

“Nexts,” she says sweetly to her toy, “we gotta do your make ups.”

Matt decides to wait until he's landed on the roof before he makes her aware of his presence. He kneels and takes a moment to center himself, taking a deep breath to do so. He focuses on calming the Devil in his chest - this is the first time he's caught Minnie awake in the middle of the night and he needs to address it as Matt and not Daredevil.

He doesn't want to scare her, after all. She'll probably be very confused as to why he's there and being scared won't help anything.

“Minnie, sweetheart, can you hear me?” He asks, keeping his voice soft as possible as he does.

To her credit, she doesn't start at all. It takes her a moment to process, but then she questions, “Daddy?”

The name makes his heart soar - everytime she says it, he breaks into the biggest smile. It is the sweetest sound and the fact she switched to calling him that all on her own means the world to him.

She wants him to be her Daddy.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it's me. What are you doing awake?” he questions, smiling as he hears her get up and start to walk around. He wonders if she is looking for him and his guess is confirmed when he hears her start lifting things up to look under them.

“I'm watching Cookie Monsters,” she replies and Matt chuckles. He thinks it is so adorable she is also so direct with her answers. She always answers exactly what is asked.

“I don't think it is time for Cookie Monster, Mouse. I think it's sleep time. Mommy is sleeping.”

You are in a deep sleep, your breathing slow and even. He can tell you've been exhausted lately and probably need the sleep. More than once he's found you awake during his patrols. If Minnie tried to wake you up, you probably weren't responsive and she had left you to sleep.

She peters her way back to in front of the television and plops back down after checking under the dining table. Matt waits for her to respond, knowing sometimes it takes her time to form what she wants to say.

“I can't sleep,” she mumbles, upset clear in her voice, “there's a monster.”

The Devil flares up inside of him and he instantly scans the area for a threat. There are few people awake in the area and he focuses in on them - none of them appear to be any sort of danger to his daughter. At the moment.

But they could have been earlier. They could have woken her up by doing something horrible. A mugging. Domestic violence. Something worse.

He curls his lip into a snarl.

He'll find whoever upset his daughter and drive them from his city. The state.

It's a miracle he manages to keep his voice calm and gentle, “A monster?”

“A monster,” she confirms sadly. Her breathing becomes muffled and Matt figures she has shoved her hand into her mouth to self-comfort.

“Can you tell Daddy about the monster?”

She sucks on her fingers and with her free hand, pulls her toy into her lap. He wants to push her to tell him, but he knows he can't. She's not a witness or a suspect - she's his daughter trying her best. He can tell she wants to answer, he just needs to be patient.

“He ran really fast,” Minnie starts to say, barely taking her hand out of her mouth to do so, “and went eek-eek-eek and smelled like poopy-butt.”

The words baffle him and Matt knits his brows - this monster was close enough for Minnie to smell him? The monster in his chest snarls and he has to fight to keep his composure. He knows Minnie is locked onto him and if he lets his rage show, she will know and she will get scared.

He needs to protect his daughter. He needs to believe God will not test him in this.

“Minnie, sweetie, can you tell Daddy where the monster is?”

Her little head turns up to face exactly where he is standing, asking in a small voice, “are you gonna fight him?”

The Devil roars ‘yes’, but the Father in him says, “Do you want me to?”

“Mommy scares him away,” she advises hesitantly. He can practically feel the nerves radiating off of her and it makes him clench his fist.

Matt doesn't understand. This has happened before?

Then it beams him in the head like a baseball and Matt feels like a complete idiot.

Minnie is a toddler. Her monsters are shadows, creaky pipes, and the four legged creatures in the city. Those are things that no longer register on Matt's radar but she hasn't learned to tune them out yet. Of course she would be scared of those things - Matt was scared of those things when he first got his senses and he was much older than Minnie at the time.

He remembers his first phone call with you and how it ended - something about Monster Repellent.

“I can go scare off the monster - would you like that?” he asks, the Devil in him settling down now that he knows no one is trying to hurt his little girl.

He doesn't know if it's Minnie sensing his shift in mood or if she didn't want him to fight the monster and scaring it away is what she wants, but she untenses her shoulders and her hand comes out of her mouth.

“You'll scare him away?” She asks after hugging her toy right to her chest.

“I'll scare him away,” he quickly promises.

“He smells like poopy-butt,” she repeats and Matt wonders if she is making a stinky face. That is something you tell him he and Minnie share - a certain curl of their lips when they find something unappealing.

“That's okay, sweetie, I'll make him go smell bad somewhere else. He won't bother you,” he says. “Can you tell me where he went and I'll go chase him away.”

Finally, she points down towards the alleyway between her building and the neighboring one and adds, “He can climb walls. Like Spidey-Man.”

Matt resists the urge to huff over the mention of the other vigilante. He has met the kid twice before and his biggest take, besides it was a kid under the mask and that had been its own thing, was that he needed to learn how to throw a proper punch. It confirmed for him all that Avengers training and showboating really meant nothing and they really were better off fighting aliens and wizards than helping out real people.

“Don't worry, Mouse, I can climb the walls, too.” He's definitely letting his Pride show through, but if he can't show off for his daughter, who can he show off for?

He makes a quick map in his head, then goes to the edge of the roof. Minnie’s head is still angled up towards him and she ‘watches’ as he parkours down to street level. If he adds a few unnecessary flips, well, that is no one's business but his own.

Once he is on the pavement, he opens his senses to the things he normally blocks out. The city becomes far more lively around him - cats, raccoons, birds, dogs, all sorts of bugs and things he doesn't like to think about. There's yowling and chirps and suddenly so much more movement, most of it under his feet.

Mouse’s monster is easy to find. It is a disgustingly large rat that has built a nest of trash and grime under a dumpster. The thing has a respiratory infection, which has it wheezing and rattling and he very much understands why Minnie was scared of it. It is not a pleasant sound and the infection is not at all helping how the creature smells. Animals smell at the best of times, but this rat clearly enjoys the sewers and ‘poopy-butt’ doesn't begin to cover how rancid it is.

Matt starts to work out what he needs to do to make sure this sick rodent stays far away from his family. If it has a nest, it will come back, so he needs to destroy that - without damaging the animal. He doesn't have the heart to actually hurt the thing.

He pulls out his billy clubs and snaps them together to make a bo staff, then moves to crouch in front of the dumpster. “Okay, sir, I'm here to evict you,” he says, more for Minnie’s benefit than anything. “You gotta go.”

He jabs at the nest of wet cardboard and almost immediately, the rat scurries out and hisses at him. It snaps its jaws at him a few times instead of running away and Matt huffs at the display, turning his staff towards the creature and swatting at it. “Get out of here.” To its credit, it tries to fight him, biting at his billy clubs and screeching at him, but after a few good thwacks to its side, it realizes it has no chance against him and dashes toward a nearby grate.

He listens to it go down into some pipes and once it's out of range, he tilts his head up towards Minnie, a smile starting to form in his lips, “The monster has been vanquished, my princess.”

His words make her giggle and he can't help but chuckle as well. He hears her push up into standing and she toddles towards the window. There's a table in front of it, so he knows she can't see out of it, but he knows she's trying to find him.

“He's not gonna come back?” She questions and in response he starts to break up the nest. He spreads the trash around, knocking things down and away. It's not a big very big rat den, relying heavily on the dumpster.

“He's not, he's gonna go find a new home,” he promises as he works, and once he's satisfied with his destruction, he collapses his billy clubs and holsters them. He pushes up into standing and steps away from the trash can.

“Far away?” Minnie asks and his heart breaks for her. The stupid animal must have terrified her.

“Very, very far away.”

He locates the fire escape and starts to scale it back up to your apartment floor. As he does, he starts closing off his senses again. Things begin to fade into the background - the things he will need to start teaching Minnie. She's got a good handle on it already, having learned to function with it instead of needing to adapt.

He's so proud. So unbelievably proud.

She's such a good and pure child. She always wants to help and asks about other people. She may be shy, but she's empathetic.

You've taught her well.

Matt understands how Minnie is a mini-him in her abilities and mannerisms due to those abilities, but her sweet nature is from you.

He knows he's gone for you.

Foggy has pointed it out. Karen has pointed it out. God has smacked him in the face with signs.

His realization moment was hearing a man purchasing an engagement ring for a woman who shared your name. He had gotten so furiously jealous he had to go take it out on the punching bag.

Foggy laughed so hard at him.

He doesn't think you noticed at all. It is nothing against you, he completely understands. You are like him - you don't think you deserve love. You had been painfully shy your first night together, as well, and he had been charmed by it.

He's angry at himself for letting you be a one night stand.

He should have been there when you needed him most.

He's not going to fuck that up again.

He pulls off his mask before making a show off popping up in front of your window and Minnie dissolves into giggles.

“Hi, Daddy!” She waves at him and he can tell she is absolutely beaming. He eagerly waves back and he knows he's matching her smile.

“Hi, Mouse.”

“Why are you outside?”

He's planned for this. He has discussed this with Foggy and Karen at length. He did the unthinkable - he asked Frank - who apparently knew who Minnie was before either Foggy or Karen did. They had attacked the question from all sides. As the firm. As friends. As parents.

They couldn't lie to Minnie. Matt can see the signs she's picking up on what different heart beats mean. She's going to know and there's nothing they can do to hide it. She can hear all of Hell’s Kitchen just as well as he can. It may not happen until she's older, but she'll figure it out.

So, he's not going to lie to her. He thinks you would approve. You don't like lying to her - you soften the truth into something she can comprehend. He's going to follow your lead.

“I'm working,” Matt answers, crouching on the rails and resting his wrists on his knees. He's suddenly very glad he had a very boring night. “What are you doing inside?”

Mouse accepts the answer and hugs her toy to her chest, swaying side to side “I'm talking to you.”

He laughs at her utter sweetness. She giggles along with him.

He gives a fond shake of his lead, then leans forward so she can see him a bit better, “What should you be doing, sweetheart?”

She scrunches up her face as she thinks, then she falls into a pout, “Sleeping.”

“Yeah, you should be sleeping. You're going to be tired tomorrow. It's not going to be fun,” he gently warns. He knows it isn't her fault, but he knows it will eventually help her learn to push those noises to the background.

“Okay, I'll go bed. I gotta clean up first. Mommy says …Mommy says don't leave it until morning. You'll make morning you sad. Be nice to morning you,” she recites, patting her hands against her stuffed animal - it's not Scooby or Pig. (He doesn't know this one. His best guess is it's a Raggedy-Anne type princess doll. His little girl loves princesses - no specific one, just the concept and aesthetic.)

He loves the values you are instilling in her. He's going to steal this mantra and tell it to Foggy and Karen.

“Okay. I'll keep watch for any monsters,” he tells her. This is one of the reasons he wants her to know the truth. He wants her to know her Daddy will protect her from all of the monsters.

“Okay. Thank you. Love you!” She chants, then turns away.

“I love you, too, Mouse. So much.”

And he will tell her every chance he gets.

She carefully walks back to where she had been sitting and turns off the television, then goes to put her toys away. Like always, she's very methodical about what she does. He could spend hours watching her play. She fascinates him. She picks up one toy at a time and tells it good night as she puts it back into her toy chest.

She doesn't have much to clean up and when she finishes, she turns to face him.

“Will you tuck me in? Please? Thank you?” Minnie asks like he can say no.

“Of course, my love. Are you all ready for bed?” He questions as he hops down onto the fire escape - one of the screws holding it together shakes and he decides he'll come back another night with a wrench to tighten everything up.

“All ready!” she confirms and he can tell she's watching him with great curiosity.

He begins to run his fingers over the edges of the window, searching for a way in. You certainly don't make it easy - you invested in apartment security and it takes him a moment to disable it. He's careful as he slides the window up and pops out the screen. He slips into the apartment, then quickly closes the window behind him, leaving the screen on the floor.

Minnie has the decency to wait until that moment to run to him with open arms. Matt scoops her up, swinging her a little before putting her on his hip and once she is settled, he leans down to press his forehead to hers.

“We have to be quiet, okay? We can't wake up, Mommy,” he tells her and she quickly nods in understanding.

He doesn't know what he'll do if you wake up and find him in your home - but luckily you are still in a deep sleep. As long as Minnie keeps calm, you should stay lost in Dreamland.

He kisses her forehead then starts towards the bedroom. She returns the affection, planting a big kiss on his cheek before she gently smacks him in the face with her doll with a quiet, “mwah!” Then, she flops against his shoulder, using him as a pillow.

He has to fight back a pleased huff - his little angel is so sweet. He'll never get sick of getting kisses from her toys - it's so loving and innocent and he is greedy for any and all affection.

Your bedroom is a good twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the apartment - there's a fan going and accompanying it is a little window unit blowing in cold air. It feels like Heaven in the blistering heat that is the rest of the city. The chill seems to suck the consciousness from Mouse - she gives a big dramatic yawn, smacking her lips against his neck. Her body slumps into him and he rubs her back encouragingly.

He crosses the room carefully, hyper aware of any toys that may have found their way to the floor post-bedtime. It absolutely breaks his heart to have to pull her away from him and she does try to stay clinging to him - not fighting him just resistant - but she ends up in her bed and under her covers. He doesn't know if he would have had the strength to force her to let go if she really did want to stay in his arms.

He helps her adjust her sleeping headband so it is around her eyes and ears, then kisses her cheek one final time, “ready for sleep?”

The response is a barely there nod and Matt can't help but feel so much love for his daughter. Being able to conk right out as soon as she's comfortable shows how much she trusts him. His little girl is always so wary and subtly alert.

He's going to cherish this moment forever.

“Love you, Mouse.” He whispers.

“Luvo, Daffy,” is what it sounds like she says as she rolls to bury her face into her pillow. A moment later she is snoring.

Matt allows a few tears to fall before wiping them away and turning his attention to you. You have nested yourself under your blankets, breath hitching every so often. He's learned over time from various people this usually means bad dreams - not nightmares but things that can leave you shaken.

He doesn't dare move closer to try to soothe you with touch - that would certainly wake you up.

Instead, he promises, “I'll chase all your monsters away, too.”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @allllium

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #and then i met you

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burntheedges · 5 months

Text

Maintenance Request

main post & chapter list | 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 word count: 80k+

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday

summary: Hot Construction Guy is the bane of your existence - he seems to only pop up at the worst possible moment for you, every time you see him.

There’s no way there could be something more there.

Right?

full fic tags/warnings: academia AU, modern AU, one-sided enemies-to-lovers, no outbreak, live music, fluff, banter, everyone is alive, misunderstandings, ex boyfriend who was manipulative and a jerk (only mentioned), no use of y/n, pet names (darlin, gorgeous, honey, baby, sweetheart), later: smut, kissing, grinding, frottage, p in v sex, oral sex (f! and m!receiving), creampie, somnophilia, phone sex, semi-public sex; each chapter will have its own tags a/n: this fic is completely finished! It was my 2023 NaNo project. I’ll post a new chapter every Friday. There are 23 chapters and an epilogue. There is eventually quite a bit of smut, but it’s going to take us a little while to get there. Mind the tags (for the whole fic above and for each chapter). That “one-sided enemies-to-lovers” tag was the motivation for the whole fic — what if only one of you thinks you’re enemies? And here we are. Chapters with smut are marked with *. The dates in each chapter are from a fictional fall semester, 2024. Shoutout to @fanatictypist for reading this and encouraging me 💕 and to the PPCU server. note about reader: in this fic you’re a college professor, vaguely of English literature and poetry. You like live music, you like to read, and Ellie is your niece. You have a best friend named Beth, a sister who is having a rough time, and a difficult mother. I’ve avoided physical descriptions and most clothing descriptions, except when plot-relevant. You are vaguely shorter than Joel. No age is specified, but I imagined 36-year-old Joel here (and 14-year-old Sarah), and most English PhDs wouldn’t get to this type of position until they were 28 or 29 at the earliest, even if they went to grad school right out of undergrad. So you can imagine reader any age from there to mid-30s, or whatever you want, really.

This fic is (almost) totally finished! A new chapter will be posted every Friday. Let me know if you want to be on the tag list! * = chapter contains smut

Chapter List

Chapter 1 | 2.4k Wednesday, September 4, second week of the semester

Chapter 2 | 2.4k | preview Friday, September 6, second week of the semester

Chapter 3 | 2.4k | preview Monday, September 16, fourth week of the semester, Friday, September 20, fourth week of the semester

Chapter 4 | 1.8k | preview Interlude

Chapter 5 | 3.4k | preview Friday, September 27, fifth week of the semester Saturday, September 28, fifth week of the semester Monday, September 30, sixth week of the semester

Chapter 6 | 2.1k | preview Wednesday, October 2, sixth week of the semester

Chapter 7 | 2.4k | preview Wednesday, October 9, seventh week of the semester

Chapter 8 | 2.7k | preview Monday, October 14, eighth week of the semester

Chapter 9 | 3.4k | preview Tuesday, October 15, eighth week of the semester Thursday, October 17, eighth week of the semester Friday, October 18, eighth week of the semester Saturday, October 19, eighth week of the semester

Chapter 10 | 5k | preview Monday, October 21, ninth week of the semester

Chapter 11 | 2.4k| preview Tuesday, October 22, ninth week of the semester Thursday, October 24, ninth week of the semester Friday, October 25, ninth week of the semester

Chapter 12 | 8.1k | preview * Friday, October 25, ninth week of the semester

Chapter 13 | 9.3k | preview * Friday, October 25 (still), ninth week of the semester

Chapter 14 | 3.9k | preview Friday, October 25 (still), ninth week of the semester Saturday, October 26, ninth week of the semester

Chapter 15 | 3.6k | preview Saturday, October 26, ninth week of the semester Sunday, October 27, ninth week of the semester

Chapter 16 | 5.8k | preview Tuesday, October 29, tenth week of the semester Friday, November 1, tenth week of the semester

Chapter 17 | 3.2k | preview * Saturday, November 2, tenth week of the semester Sunday, November 3, tenth week of the semester

Chapter 18 | 3.3k | preview * Monday, November 4, eleventh week of the semester

Chapter 19 | 7.6k | preview * Saturday, November 9, eleventh week of the semesterSunday, November 10, eleventh week of the semester

Chapter 20 | 3.3k | preview

Chapter 21 | coming 5/3

Chapter 22 | 5/10

Chapter 23 | 5/17

Epilogue | 5/24

…

Moodboards

@sawymredfox made this moodboard and it’s amazing 😩 please go look at it 💕

@djarins-cyare made this wonderful moodboard, I love it so much -- please go look at it! 🧡💚

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #my fic #maintenance request fic #x reader #joel miller smut

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shoebillstork · 6 months

Text

Mutual 1: (An extremely extensive post detailing their trauma on their secret blog)

Mutual 1: (A picture of the soup they finished making) Eeatting penis soup grab a bowl

Mutual 2: (Cropped batman yaoi) This scene was so compelling in the comics qnd established so much for Bruce Waynes character as a bottom

Mutual 3: Just updated my comic (it is one of the most compelling pieces of narrative youve ever read. Its based off of a bad game)

Mutual 4: Ngl this omegaverse gacha life youtube video is more compelling than most shows i watch

Mutual 5: Finally cocking out i swear if one more thing happens today i will snap

Mutual 6: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 7: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 8: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 9: This yak tranquilizer weak af

Mutual 10: Come make my sinister potion (posts how to make a pipebomb)

Mutual 11: Do i get plastic surgery and change my name and move to a different country y/n (poll is in favor of yes by a huge margin)

Mutual 12: Mutual 13 is a lying fucking piece of trash and i think they should drop dead. They live at 308 Negra Aroya Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104 and im going to record me beating the shit out of them

Mutual 13: Aww my bestie is coming to visit me soon :]

(Mutual 12 and 13 are dating)

Mutual 14: who tf does she think she is (posts a sc of mutual 8 from three url changes ago. It is mutual 8 saying theyre going to the park)

Mutual 15: So in my latest session in dnd we rolled 1d12 for dick size and i rolled a nat 20 and idk what to do with this reponsibility now

Mutual 16: he looks so good im going to scream (a screenshot where said character is so far in the background he doesnt even have a face)

Mutual 17: eho up thinking about the moral dillemma presented in pokemon go

Mutual 18: take a look at my ocs :D (mona lisa if dhe was gay)

Mutual 19: i hadba really good day today i got to spend some time bonding with my entire family and we got to celebrate something we havent had the time for in 37 years

Mutual 20: (reblogging mutual 19) L + Don't care + 632146K~P PRC, dl.2146K~P, 5K > 2146K~P, 5K > JF 2146K~P, 2H, WS ([4]6H->P), 623H

Mutual 21: (Blurry photo of them running from police) they're after me for my stash kf yaoi cocaine

Mutual 22: (Miles long RP chain they started 2 months ago. You have post notification on for them because its awesome)

Mutual 23: Discussing the morality of liking bananas over mangoes

Mutuals 24 ans 25: having a dramatic wedding where theyre acting as a crack ship. They're on the verge of divorce

Mutual 26: She winding onbmy waker (is in the middle of intense controversy)

Mutual 27: (Callout for mutual 26)

Mutual 28: If Mutual 17 asked i would give them a sloppy toppy

Mutual 29: Anon get out of my inbox before j block you his ass is NOT flat. (His ass is fucking concave)

Mutual 30: Shes just like me fr (a picture kf a shopping cart)

#textbox

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hydrangeachainsaw · 2 years

Photo

ComfySpace 🤍☁️

TS3 & TS4

11 items

functional bed!

BGC

2k texture maps

Hangin tote bag has 50+ swatches!

Mostly low/medium polycount(below 10k), except for the Marjorie Bed (20k polycount), tulips basket (17k) and Puffy Armchair (11k).

Meshes and textures by me, some patterns for textures found on pinterest/google.

ComfySpace Rugs Hanging Tote Bag

ComfySpace Set

alt download: CurseForge

♥ Socials ♥ Instagram | Pinterest | Sketchfab

⇟ more info under the cut! ⇟

Info~

BGC

functional bed!

10 Items

2k Texture Maps

Meshes and textures by me, some patterns for textures found on pinterest/google

TS4: find it typing HCComfy in the searchbar

TS3: find in collection folder. Where to place collection file: C:\User\Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 3\Collections\User

Marjorie Bed:

20k polycount

30 swatches

Artsy Posters:

1k poly

8 swatches

Hanging Tote Bag:

4k poly

50+ swatches

Nordic Nightstand:

7k poly

17 swatches

Pantop table lamp:

1k poly

13 swatches

Puffy Armchair:

11k poly

2 swatches

Puffy Couch:

5k poly

7 swatches

Comfy Rugs:

5k poly

16 swatches

Tavolo Coffee Table:

3k poly

20 swatches

Tulips Basket:

17k poly

11 swatches

Yucca vase

8k poly

1 swatch

@sssvitlanz <3

#ts4cc #s4cc #sims4cc #ts4 #s3cc #s4 #sims #sims 4 cc #sims 4 custom content #sims 3 custom content #ts3cc #cc

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rascalcurious · 3 months

Text

today i have a set of defaults for some of the base game hairs for you guys :) there's also defaults for fhairlong and fhaircornrowslong included that aren't pictured, you can take a look at them here . all clones and unnatural colours are also replaced.

download all: SFS / MF

pick and choose: SFS / MF

i hope you enjoy these defaults :) information about each one and links to custom versions of the hairs are under the cut

credits for original hairs: @simcelebrity00 @dogsill @oakiyo @imvikai @arethabee @aharris00britney @catnipsims @buzzardly28 @laeska @miikocc @clumsyalienn @c-cerberus-sims-s @goamazons @candycottonchu @jellymoo @oydis @feralpoodles

credits for conversions: @kestrelteens @platinumaspiration @miniculesim @shiftingparadymes @pforestsims

1: fhairacorntuck replaced with my conversion of simcelebrity00's lauren hair. CF-EF. 3.8k poly. animated.

2: fhairbarrette replaced with my conversion of dogsill's lucille hair. CF-EF. 7.5k poly. updated with animation

3: fhairbowltwist replaced with my conversion of oakiyo's brandy hair. TF-EF. 4k poly

4: fhairbraids replaced with kestrelteens conversion of imvikai tabitha. CF-EF. 5.5k poly. animated

5: fhairbraidsup replaced with platasp's conversion of dogsill jinx braids. CF-EF. 6.2k poly. animated

6: fhairbun replaced with pforestsims' mesh edit of kestrelteens' conversion of arethabee vega v2, using EA colours. TF-EF. 5k poly. animated

7: cfhairbun replaced with miniculesims' conversion of aharris00britney eve. CF-EF. 4.1k poly

8: fhairfeather replaced with my conversion of catnipsims groovy. TF-EF. 7.8k poly. animated

9: fhairflypigtails replaced with shiftingparadymes' conversion of axa britney. PF-EF.4.9k poly. animated

10: fhairformal replaced with platasp's conversion of ep15 butterfly. CF-EF. 4k poly (note: child sims who wear this hair will age up into fhairfrenchbraid when they age into teen)

11: fhairfrenchbraid replaced with my conversion of buzzardly28's gytha updo. TF-EF. 5.1k poly

12: fhairfuzzylongcp replaced with my conversion of laeska oliva v1. CF-EF. 7.8k poly. updated with animation.

13: fhairhalo replaced with kestrelteens conversion of miikocc marigold hair. CF-EF. 5k poly. animated

14: fhairlongsimple replaced with my conversion of dogsill natalia v2. TF-EF. 11.1k poly. animated

15: fhairlowbun replaced with pforestsims' mesh edit of platasp's conversion of clumsyalienn aelia. 7k poly. animated

16: fhairmediumcenterpart replaced with my conversion of dogsill karlee. CF-EF. 10.1k poly. animated

17: fhairmessy replaced with my conversion of axa brittany. TF-EF. 5.5k poly. animated

18: fhairpagepunk replaced with my conversion of cerberus mia v1. TF-EF. 4.2k poly. animated

19: fhairpgchoppy replaced with my conversion of goamazons lucrecia hair. TF-EF. 5.9k poly. animated

20: fhairpigtails replaced with miniculesim's conversion of oakiyo aria. CF-EF. 6.9k poly. animated

21: fhairponytail replaced with my conversion of candycottonchu's athena hair. CF-EF. 4.3k poly. updated with animation

22: fhairponytailhigh replaced with my conversion of jellymoo maddy. CF-EF. 6.9k poly. animated

23: fhairpoofs replaced with platasp's conversion of clumsyalienn linnea. CF-EF. 13.2k poly

24: fhairshorttuckin replaced with my conversion of aharris00britney amy. CF-EF. 4.2k poly. animated

not pictured

25: fhairlong replaced with my conversion of @oydis dahlia v1. TF-EF. 4.9k poly. animated

26: fhaircornrowslong replaced with @miniculesim ’s conversion of @feralpoodles zara (get custom version here). TF-EF. 14.3K poly. animated

#s2cc #sims 2 cc #ts2cc #sims 2 download #sims 2 hair #sims 2 #sims 2 defaults #sims 2 default hair #sims 2 default replacement #the sims 2 cc #ts2 download #ts2 cc #ts2 custom content

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daechwitatamic · 5 months

Text

Of Ruin || KTH || Masterpost

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: Of Ruin

Status: complete - all chapters now posted

WC: 85k total, 16 chapters

Rating: NSFW - minors DNI

Pairing: KTH x reader || platonic Namjoon x reader friendship!

Genre: supernatural!au royalty!au magic!au || s2l || angst fluff smut trifecta

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

Warnings: language, casual drinking, lots of vampire warnings such as scary situations, vampires hunting/biting/feeding/killing, magic and magical fighting, magical world politics, eventual smut but not a lot dont expect too much, EXTREMELY slow burn even for me DONT SAY I DIDNT WARN YOU, chapters will have individual warnings

Author’s Note: Although the worlds, rules, characterizations, and plot are very extremely different, I have to say that I was inspired to write this after reading @/kth1fics Black Ravens series. Thank you to Maggie for being so gracious when I asked if she’d be okay with me trying a vamp!tae fic of my own.

Big thank you to @sailoryooons for the quick, thorough, and masterful beta job, and for letting me ask questions, shout and scream, and send endless screenshots as I worked on this for the last six months! Thank you also to @eoieopda, @jeonqkooks, and @yoongiphoria for accepting an ungodly number of screenshots as well. There would be no fic without y'all, I mean it!

Series Teaser:

He’s on you in an instant, so quickly you don’t see him move. Your back hits the wall behind you and you let out an audible grunt.

He sniffs at you, fangs displayed and ready. Your heart pounds desperately, and beneath his inhumanly strong hold, your muscles shake. Your body knows you are about to die, even if your mind still wants to lie to you about it.

He laves at a spot near the base of your neck, giving a happy hum as your pulse thunders against his tongue. You close your eyes, feeling your whole body shudder in terror.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, eyelids fluttering.

Chapter 1 || wc: 5.7k

Chapter 2 || wc: 5.9k

Chapter 3 || wc: 5.1k

Chapter 4 || wc: 5.5k

Chapter 5 || wc: 4.6

Chapter 6 || wc: 6k

Chapter 7 || wc: 5k

Chapter 8 || wc: 4.8k

Chapter 9 || wc: 4.3k

Chapter 10 || wc: 5.2k

Chapter 11 || wc: 4.7k

Chapter 12 || wc: 4.8k

Chapter 13 || wc: 6k

Chapter 14 || wc: 6.3k

Chapter 15 || wc: 5k

Chapter 16 || wc: 5.1k

719 notes · View notes

chososdiscordkitten · 2 months

Text

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt 11

pt 10 here

Content: direct cont of last chap, reader wears heels, implied reader has boobies O-O, soooo much hand holding it should be considered lewd, 2 pics to help see what I picture (underlined text), date hehe, reader wouldn't mind if Choso kidnapped them 0-0, they play battle ship, jokingly implied Choso is an escort(?), reader is kinda mean, reassurance, idk just my usual bs??? just reader nd Choso being cute man what else can I say. Word Count: 11.9k (wtf, im sorry)

(a.n) this was so long, I know, pls excuse any mistakes- I underestimated how hard it was to edit something longer than 5k words. ALSO???? take this as a celebration of me hitting 1k followers!! yayyy

Taglist: @eristi @sunaumi @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @iluvreinah @iamboredowo @integers @waytootiredforthisss @1arminsimp @hannas16 @chosowhore @tojicvmslut @ofalcaodacolinablue @thesharkcollector @mochipip @hotvillianapologist @ziklope @saeline @morinuu @b3llair3 @24hrnanami

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

After you left his apartment, Choso’s mind blared with the possibility of you being kidnapped- only to find solace in the small red dot blinking on his phone. Cautious eyes watching as he expected it to move- but no. It stayed still at a restaurant right outside of campus. Choso wanted to desperately leave behind those incessant urges to follow you- to make sure you were safe.

Knowing that his day of reckoning would come. Choso knew that if he kept following you- the day would come when you’d see him. And he wanted to trust you now that things were starting to advance.

There was nothing he wanted more than to trust you, to trust that you could take care of yourself-

But everytime he’d try to ignore the blaring ‘warning’ signs in his mind. He’d remember every time he watched you walk home without caution, every horror story he read of people getting kidnapped and trafficked- and on the occasions where Choso couldn't shake off the invading thoughts, your voice would haunt his mind.

Overwhelming his brain as he tried to focus on what you were saying- your whispering voice making his brain pound in his skull as he watched that blinking dot.

Choso had to call you- if he couldn't run out of his apartment and find you- the least he could do was call you. Feeling like one of your clingy ‘friends’ as the phone rang, his pointer finger picking at the side of his thumb as he closed his eyes. All but praying for you to answer, opening his eyes as he heard the receiver being picked up,

“I was just thinking about you-” he spoke, hearing your angelic laugh ring through his ears. ‘I left like 20 minutes ago.’ you teased, “I know-” he mumbled “What're you doing?” he continued, not in the mood to dance around what he wanted to hear, ‘uh- I'm at..lunch with a friend.’ you hesitated. –

‘What're you doing, Choso?’ you asked, confused as to where this was going. Choso let out a half laugh from his chest. “M’sitting in the dark thinking about you.” he professed, pressing his hand to his forehead and hearing you laugh at the serious tone he took. ‘Sounds healthy.’ you joked back with a playful tone, closing his eyes and thinking. Your tone was kind- speaking sweetly as you normally did. But. You hesitated.

The same way you hesitate whenever you refer to him as your friend.

“M’sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice.” he sniffled, “Tell your friend I say hi.” hearing your smile when you replied a quick ‘Okay.’ at his request.

⋆ ⁺ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺ .⋆

The conversation of the date was a rough one. Sitting in his apartment as you played chess. The timing was horrible- sure. The econd week of February left an unavoidable holiday sitting in front of you. “We can wait...till after if you want.” he offered a solution as he moved a pawn.

“It's not so much the day for me.” you admitted, scanning the wooden chest pieces on your side of the checkerboard. “If you want- we can wait till after.” rephrasing his words as you watched his eyebrows furrow, “S’the same for me.” mentally chanting ‘pleasepleasepleaseplease’ as you pondered.

And with those words- the date was set for Valentines day. Which made Choso believe there really was a god from how well this turned out. And you're thinking of moving out from that house full of idiots- and into the small apartment complex as his neighbor.

For the first time in Choso’s life he felt like life dealt him a good hand.

When it came to actually thinking about what to do- he didn't want to ask you. Knowing you were indecisive on what you were eating for lunch that day- so he didn't want to plague you with planning a date he owed you. Checking his bank account and barely seeing enough for a stack of pancakes in the town diner.

Choso contemplated it. He thought about it over and over again, weighing the pros and cons in his mind before going into his closet and reaching into a pair of boots that were 3 sizes too small for him. Finding the thinning wad of cash he was looking for. The so-called ‘rainy day fund’ thinned every time he ran out of money for the month.

But this was worth it, you, were worth it. So he pulled the rubber band from the roll of cash, slowly counting the bills in his hands to be sure he didn't miss count.

⋆ ⁺ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺ .⋆

The next time you saw Choso you asked him what his plan was- “Just be ready by 7.” he smiled to himself, already picturing you on that day.

Furrowing your eyebrows before speaking, “Well-” you scoffed “what are we doing?”

“It's a surprise.” he grinned, looking down at the stupid game you called ‘Candy Land’

You sighed dramatically, “Choso, I hate surprises.” as you stared at the little pieces of plastic on the colorful board. “Atleast tell me what to wear.” you insisted, seeing his lips flash a pearly smile to you.

“Wear whatever you want- I’m sure you’ll look great.” he scoffed, holding the little piece of plastic between his fingers, making it hop as he counted the squares.

“Well if you're taking me to a nice restaurant and I'm wearing a t-shirt nd jeans- not gonna be very fun. Or if you're taking me to a horse race-” Choso laughed at your assumptions, “And I open the door in a dress and heels? Then what?” you threw the possibilities at him as he smiled at your nervousness.

“It's a first date- I wanna make a good impression.” You mused, earning a half laugh from his chest. “C’mon-” you batted your eyelashes at him, trying to convince him to tell you what he was planning.

Nodding his head at your coercion that was working better than you thought, “You're terrible.” he whispered, making your pouting grin turn into a toothy smile. “Wear something nice-” he avoided your eyes, moving the character on the squares again as you listened carefully, “Bring a coat- weather app says it's gonna be cold.” He instructed.

“Do I eat beforehand?” you grinned, seeing his jaw clench at your question, “Hmm- No.” you smiled at how a few pleads convinced him to tell you.

“How nice should I dress then?” pressing the issue with a winning smile on your face as you moved your plastic character, pleased at how easily he was to convince. “Atleast tell me that.” Choso looked at you and pondered the question, before nodding his head ‘no’. Knowing he's already said too much.

You pouted playfully at his denial, “Just a hint- just oneee.” seeing his eyes look over your face, “I’ll even settle for one word.” he thought of a word to use, staring at you as he skimmed through words in his mind.

“Wear something- striking.” he squinted as he settled on the word.

With raised eyebrows you started, “Striking huh?” in a teasing tone the choice of word he used, “Must be some first date to wear something striking.” your borderline bullying caused Choso to regret his choice of telling you anything.

⋆ ⁺ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺ .⋆

On the 13th of february, just one day before your date- Choso facetimed his baby brother Yuuji, knowing out of all 9, he was probably the best one to call about this delicate topic.

“What about this?” he holding a black knit sweater to his chest while looking at the screen, Yuuji let out a snicker- ‘If you like it-’ his tone was snide- almost mockingly as Choso tossed the knit onto his bed, staring at the pile of clothing that he had gone through.

Showing him a band t-shirt from one of his drawers and hearing Yuuji let out a small laugh before he tossed the t-shirt on his already messy bed. “You're no help.”

‘M’not here to helppp-’ Yuuji droned on, “That's precisely why I called you, Yuuji.” Choso retorted in a stern tone, not enjoying the game his brother was trying to play, slipping on a black dress shirt and doing up the tiny buttons.

‘Didn't you wear that to your graduation?’ he heard from the phone with a half laugh forming in his brother's words. “Can you tell?” straightening his back and seeing the fabric flex against his chest and shoulders, ‘Looks a lil tight buddy.’ Yuuji held back a laugh, being able to see the buttons strain and form small openings down his chest.

With an exasperated sigh he looked back to the mess on his bed, “I don't know what to wear.”

‘The dark navy button down you wore to parent teacher conferences and black slacks.’ Yuuji spat quickly, ‘Hey when am I gonna meet this person?’ Smiling as he changed the topic, “When you stop being so nosy.” Choso muttered, looting through his closet and finding the button up Yuuji was talking about.

Unbuttoning the taut buttons and slipping off the small shirt. Tossing it onto the pile of discarded options before slipping on the better fitting dress shirt, doing up the small buttons and looking in the mirror, ‘I'm not nosy-’ Yuuji laughed, ‘Excuse me for trying to find out who’s involved in my big brothers life-’ enunciating the words. Attempting to make Choso feel bad for scolding him.

“If you ever come out here- I'll introduce them to you.” he looked at the top two buttons that were undone, trying to decide whether or not to do them.

‘I'm on the next flight out.’ Yuuji quipped, making Choso scoff.

“No Yuuji. Go to school.” Choso demanded, knowing he was skipping more than a handful of classes. ‘One day I’ll fly out there and you won't be able to say no to me till I’m standin’ at your door.’ Yuuji threatened, Choso offered only a sarcastic ‘haha’ in response.

‘How you got a date before I got a girlfriend is still insane to me.’ he pressed, “Why’s that Yuuji?” rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt as he looked in the mirror.

Yuuji laughed- knowing just what to do to annoy his older brother, ‘Cause you're so… weird.’ Yuuji struggled to say the words through a bully-like smile, “For your information- brother of the year,” Choso snapped playfully, which surprised Yuuji since Choso was never the type to banter- not because he didn't want to. But his quips would always come out in stutters, never being able to come up with smart replies fast enough.

Choso smiled as he recalled your slurred words,“They like that I'm ‘strange’.” Yuuji chirped from the phone, ‘They tell you that?’ with a sarcastic tone.

Looking at Yuuji with a cocky smile, “They did.” earning for his baby brother to raise his eyebrows in feigned shock, ‘The world is so backwards.’ he scoffed before asking more questions about you.

⋆ ⁺ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺ .⋆

Choso wanted to make tonight special, he wanted to make this the last first date you ever went on.

So as he looked at himself in the mirror, putting on his many rings and muttering words of encouragement to himself, hands shaking as he rolled up the sleeves of his dark navy blue dress shirt. Trying not to nitpick any detail that he didn't like about the reflection staring back at him- whispering that even if he was ‘strange and off putting’ you still liked him.

Side eyeing the clear bowl shaped vase that held three white lilies, Choso felt nerves eating away at him as his eyes flashed down to his phone that lit up with a message from you.

‘lmk when ur outside :)’ your message read. If only you knew Choso’s stomach was in knots. A specific kind of anxiety he had never felt before, it almost felt like how your stomach churned while in line for a scary rollercoaster for the first time.

He quickly typed, ‘im omw now’ with trembling thumbs.

So as he put on the torn up carhartt jacket he relied on whenever it was cold, he straightened his back as he held the clear vase in his hand- Choso hesitated to turn the doorknob of his apartment. Thinking on if this was a good idea- a million doubts racing in his mind.

But he only needed one thought to pull him from his doubts. All he needed was to remember you to open the door.

The walk across the lively campus full of people carrying bouquets of red roses and overcompensating stuffed animals made him think that maybe the three lilies were not enough- Till the realization that he was actually taking you out on Valentine's day hit, which only made him even more nervous, the pondering thoughts of ‘am I making a fool of myself?’ making him overheat in the heavy jacket. Choso must've taken it off and put it back on 2 or 3 times before he reached your neighborhood.

Standing on your rundown porch, thinking about ringing the doorbell. Those doubts daring to creep back into his mind, but his hesitant finger pressed the button anyway. Holding the bowl in both hands as he heard muffled shouts through the heavy wood door. He watched the brass handle turn before the door cracked open- his eyes being granted the honor of seeing you.

‘Breathtaking’ was the word his mind formulated once he felt air fill his lungs again.

Choso swore that every single time he looked at you, it felt like the first time. But this time- this, took the cake. This would be the mental image he’d remember every time he thought of you. The nerves and unease he felt in his chest melted away when he saw the warmth of your smile.

His eyes blinked quickly- almost in disbelief as he looked at you, so love drunk it hurt his chest a little.

And you, bent to the side and fiddling with the tiny buckle of your heel. To Choso it felt like you came straight out of his teenage dreams as you looked at him.

Smiling as you uttered the word that was stuck in his throat, with a hurried smile you spoke, “Heyy-” before placing your foot back onto the ground as you stepped back with a quiet gasp, looking at the bowl in his hands. “Come in!” you urged sweetly, seeing his eyes scan your frame, darting to your living room that was full of your gawking roommates and their friends. ‘An anti-valentines day movie night’ you called it.

“Thought I told you to tell me you were outside-” you grinned, standing at the entryway of the house. ‘God, you are haunting.’ You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to reply. Unknowing your roommates were ignoring the movie on the living room tv. Furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at the round vase in his hands.

“T-these are for you.” He muttered, his heart racing at an abominable speed by seeing you grin kindly before your smile fell.

It turned into a grimace, “I have something for you too-” looking back up at the stairs you practically fell down when the doorbell rang. Turning back around to face him. Taking the bowl from his extended hands with a prolonged touch, “They're lovely. Thank you.” you smiled, “Stay right here- I'll be right back.” You hushed, turning around and dashing up the stairs.

Choso stood at the doorway, almost mournful knowing the sight of you that greeted him would only exist in his memory now. Fiddling with his rings as he felt the people's eyes burn through him. Unintelligible whispers from the prying gazes. Gulping as he heard your bedroom door slam shut, urging footsteps on the ground as you hurried down the stairs. Both hands held behind your back as you hid his present.

A silly smile on your lips as you looked at him, the thin heel of your shoes clacking on the tile as you stood before him, reaching your arm around as you a box with a small bow on top. Raising his eyebrows and looking at the box holding a pair of white glass plates inside. “Plates?” he smiled defeated at the present as you tried to suppress a small laugh.

Your shoulders moved in a silent laugh as you watched his eyes flash back up to you, “Yes. Plates.” seeing him exhale through his nose, amused at what a coincidence it was that you bought him them.

“Thank you.” He mumbled softly, already being able to picture using them.

Choso held the box in one hand, looking at you with adoring eyes, you cleared your throat, “Striking enough?” you sneered proudfully. He practically choked on air at your question.

He took a second to look at you, trying to find the correct thing to say, “You look beautiful.” he breathed softly, words that came straight from his heart. Mentally he was shouting any word he thought of when he looked at you. Words that are not to be said on a ‘first date’, confessions of yearning love and descriptive words of how he felt about you.

‘Captivating.’ Choso thought as he admired your features that were accentuated by the warm lighting, almost casting a glow on your skin.

You felt the warmth in your cheeks trail to the tip of your nose at the compliment. ‘Thank y-’ you mouthed silently, being interrupted by a loud over exaggerated cough coming from the living room.

Squinting your eyes as you turned around to face the source, “When did you say you'd be home?” one of your roommates spouted from the couch.

“I didn't.” You spoke with a raised tone laced with irritation, scoffing before walking into the living room. Focused on your coat that was draped on the edge of the couch.

Their eyes looked up at you as though you owed them something, “Where's he taking you?” desperate to keep you home.

You raised your eyebrows before you spoke, “No idea.”, reaching your hands into the pockets of your coat to be sure you had what you needed.

Picking it up from the couch before turning around and speed walking back to Choso, looking at him with an urgent look on your face. “Let's go.” you whispered as you reached for the doorknob, “It's not safe to go to an undisclosed location with a stranger-!” your roommate shouted as you stepped through the doorway. Sighing as you pulled the door behind you.

“Sorry about that.” you breathed, inhaling the cold air as you scanned the cloudy overcast with squinted eyes and creased eyebrows.

Choso inhaled sharply before he spoke, “Was that-”

“Yes, that was my den mother.” with a scoff, Choso parted his lips in a silent wince as you slipped your coat onto your exposed shoulders. Reaching a hand down and raising your ankle halfway to tweak with the strap of your heel again.

“Lead the way.” you smiled as Choso took a step forward onto the rickety stairs.

⋆ ⁺ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ . ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺ .⋆

“Can you tell me where you're taking me now?” You sounded almost defeated as you walked side by side on the pavement. Choso made sure that he was on the open side of the sidewalk, walking between you and the potential risk.

Quiet streets derived from people made the walk peaceful, the sunless sky causing everything to look pale blue- almost as though you stepped through a blue tinted filter.

The weather was fresh- cold enough for a coat but not freezing the way it was a few days ago. A small breeze would have made you regret your choice in what you wore- your calves and ankles exposed to the frigid air.

Looking over at him as he held the boxed plates, with a smug grin on his lips, “We have to go pick something up first.” you hummed at Choso’s denial as his rundown oxford-esque shoes stomped on the ground.

Seeing an opportunity to wear down that smugness, you looked at him with an unashamed smile. “You look beautiful too, Choso.” circling back to his compliment that was interrupted by your roommate. He looked over to you- not shocked but surprised at your choice of words, despite the gloomy weather- you looked warm in his eyes. As though the sun was shining and it was the middle of summer.

He sighed as he felt your shoulder brush against his, “I don't think I’ve ever been called that.” he admitted honestly with a flustered smile.

You laughed, “I can call you something else-” with an enthusiastic grin, looking up into the sky as you thought of the words to use, “How about- scenic. Or uh, captivating-” watching the blush on his cheeks trail onto his exposed ear.

Choso’s teeth stuttered as he heard you- trying to silence the sudden compliment, “My name is fine.” He insisted with a nervous laugh, trying his best to ignore your gaze.

You raised your eyebrows, “Are you sure? I can keep going-”

“Ju-” he breathed, “Just Choso is fine.” he implored, his heart racing at an unimaginable speed.

You were pleased with his stutter, “Okay. ‘Just Choso’, where are you taking me?” grazing the back of your palm against his as you walked, his eyes on the ground watching the lines on the pavement come and go.

Choso sighed, “I already told you- We. Are going. To pick. Something up.” He paused between the words as though that was an answer, flinching when you bumped your knuckles into his as you strolled beside him.

“Don't take that tone with me, mister.” you teased playfully, holding your knuckles against his as you saw him perk a smile.

“Sorry-” he grinned as he looked over at you sweetly, “We’re gonna go pick something up.” he corrected himself, smiling at the sugared words, not moving his hand from yours- if anything pressing it closer.

With a sigh you took the initiative and interlocked your fingers with his, your cool hand icing his warm palm, “If you're gonna kidnap me- let me know. Promise I won't fight back or anything.” you joked, making Choso shiver at your accusation.

With a grimace he hesitated the words he was about to say, “That is a terrible and equally horrifying thing to say,” he spoke your name in a reprimanding tone.

“I mean in the way that life sucks right now, and you're a pretty cool person. And you're nice, and tolerate me.” squinting your eyes at the sudden frost-like breeze puff against your bare shins.

Your circling hum on the side of his pointer finger made this conversation suddenly very difficult for him to focus on. “Just don't put me in a glass cage. That's all I ask.” You continued the unsettling topic as you squeezed his hand.

Choso laughed at the reference, “You see,” being able to conjure the words in his mind. “I had reason to worry about you getting kidnapped.” he murmured, mentally damning you for putting that thought into his head again.

“That's different though.” you hummed, tilting your head towards him. “Of course if it was a stranger I’d fight tooth and nail-” a playful grin on your lips, watching his eyebrows slowly pull upwards. “But, if it was you?” you continued, feeling his palm subtly start to clam against yours.

Choso looked over at you- waiting for you to finish what you were saying. The troubled expression on his face made you smile at how easy it was to fluster him.

Shaking away the words in your mind, the sky dimming as you clutched onto his hand, you let out a ‘tsk’ at the thought, “Now that would be something quite forward to say.” you grinned playfully.

‘Your smile hides your mischievousness a little too well- I think you're just being cruel at this point.’ he thought as he looked at your profile. A proud smile adorning your lips.

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“A parking garage?” you asked, twitching your ankle as you watched Choso input a security code into the metal receiver.

Choso sucked his teeth with a smile, “Did you expect us to walk for the entire night?” looking down to your shoe that was clearly bothering you.

“You have a car?” you asked as you watched the metal gate creak open.

He winced, “Technically no-” hand in hand as he led you through the barrier of the two story garage. Walking up the sloped concrete as you looked at the dusty cars.

“I didn't even know this place existed.” You muttered, eyeing the gray walls illuminated by old yellow lights. Swinging your connected hands softly as Choso laid eyes upon the black car cover he hoped was waiting for him.

“Let's hope it still runs.” he joked as you let go of his hand.

“Hold these for me won't you?” he whispered, handing you the cardboard box as you tapped your heeled foot on the ground, causing Choso to look down at your ankle once more.

Placing his hands on the front end of the cover, yanking it off as you laid eyes on the two seater maroon colored classic. Almost perfectly polished as you raised your eyebrows in shock, his hands balling up the black car cover and placing it on the hood haphazardly.

He inhaled almost painfully, “It was my father’s-” as he inserted the key into the driver's side and turned it, unlocking the doors before walking to the passenger side and opening the door with a hand held out to you.

Taking the boxed plates from your hands and placing them on the roof of the car, holding your hand as you eased into the vehicle.

Connected matte black seats meeting your eyes as you eased into the seat. Silent as he nervously tried explaining why he had the car, “H-he left it behind- and I didn’t wanna leave it to be sold.” He smiled, looking down at you as he held the frame of the door.

“So you brought it with you?” You hummed, fiddling with your hands on your lap and looking at the interior.

“I stole it- yes.” he admitted without shame, leaning on the frame of the opened door.

Pulling off his jacket as your hands reached out to take it from him, a small ‘Thank you’ fell from his lips as you held it in your lap. His lips parted in a grin, looking at your expression as you pinched your eyebrows together. Reaching your hand down to the bothersome buckle that squeezed your ankle a little too tightly.

Your fingers struggled to fix the issue as he watched you. Flashing your eyes up at him with an awkward giggle before you spoke, “When you rang the doorbell I accidentally pulled the-” You sighed, trying to pull the black strap from the bothersome buckle, “-the strap too tight.”

Choso smiled before mouthing an understanding ‘oh’

“May I?” he asked, frustration starting to seep from you and into him by just watching your aimless attempts. You eyed him, lowering himself to his knee, the other propped up as you turned your body to face him.

Suddenly all too aware of the veins on the tops of his hands, the light arm hair on his outer forearms that were exposed from his rolled up sleeves.

His calloused hand held open awaiting you to lift your dangling foot to his palm. Without a word, you lifted your ankle. Choso delicately placed his hand onto the back of your calf, your cold skin warming in his palm as he guided the back of the heel to rest atop his bent knee. Trailing his fingertips mindlessly on your skin as he gently unbuckled the silver rivet of the shoe.

Feeling the instant relief as he slid the buckle into a neighboring notch. A warm blush forming on your cheeks as you watch his painted hands trail gentle touches on your skin.

“There?” he mumbled, looking up at you as his thumb settled on the protruding bone of your ankle. Only offering a blushed ‘Mhm’ from your dry throat as he laced the rest of the tiny strap beneath the metal. Your hand was clutched on the edge of the seat- if your grip tightened any more you’d scratch the pristine leather.

Choso gently placed his palm back onto your calf, easing your leg back down gently before he stood up again. “Now for the moment of truth.” he winced, taking a step back and leaving you with your feet on the ground.

You inhaled sharply as his hand rested on the door again, waiting for you to sit correctly. You turned your body back to face the windshield, he closed the door for you- reaching his hand on the roof of the car for the plates before walking to the drivers side.

With how easy it was to fluster him or make him nervous, you were unsure why out of the two of you- you were the one who was on the verge of hyperventilating from the innocent act of kindness. In your mind an obstacle presented itself; how you were expected to keep your composure for the rest of the evening.

Your hand dared to tremble as you placed his heavy jacket on the center of the benched seat. Some kind of desperate attempt at a wall to keep you from acting on your self-indulgent thoughts.

Hearing a small thud as he placed the plates on the roof again. The driver's door opened smoothly, Choso eased into the seat as he placed his hand on the wheel with the keys in hand, leaving his door open with one foot on the ground.

Choso cleared his throat as he turned the ignition, raising his eyebrows in hopes the car would turn on. A wave of relief washed over him when he heard the loud roar come from the muffler. Quiet music playing from the staticky radio breaking the silence.

He stepped out of the car once more, walking to the hood to grab the car cover he carelessly folded. Your eyes followed him as he slid the pair of plates from the roof and walked to the back of the car, your shoulders tense while trying to breathe.

Flinching when you heard the trunk pound shut, clearing your throat when you saw him walk back to the opened door.

He settled into the driver's seat once more, mindlessly picking up your attempt at a wall and placing his jacket onto the ledge of the rearview window, leaving nothing but air to keep you separate from him.

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The drive was silent, the quiet radio music easing the tension in the air only you felt. Hands in your lap as you fiddled with your thumbs, Choso was unaware of your tense shoulders till he stopped at a red light.

Looking over at you- your head locked forward and sitting very, very far away. The look on your face though, furrowed eyebrows and unblinking eyes, lips pressed tightly together as though you were in deep thought- that's what made him realize something was wrong.

Replaying the last 10 minutes- not recalling a single snide comment or any attempts at flirting since he started driving.

He murmured your name- trying to pull you out of the thoughts that were whirling in your mind at that moment. Blinking your eyes and turning your head slightly, looking at Choso’s face that was illuminated by the red light. “Something wrong?”

You nodded your head ‘no’ intertwining your hands harshly together. Choso looked down to your latched hands, then back up to you with a perked brow- He didn't need to speak, you knew what he was asking with the look on his face.

You inhaled, trying to find something clever to say- “M’trying to keep my hands to myself.” you murmured, looking out of the window, gathering he was driving into the neighboring city as your knees pointed to the door along with your head.

‘...hands to yourself..?’ Choso mentally repeated your words, not knowing why you had to try to, when you were never shy about it before.

Air caught in your throat at the realization you said that louder than you were expecting, “In a- a non creepy way.” you reiterated, scrunching your eyes together at the stutter in your words.

Mentally you were cursing the stupid old traffic light that refused to turn green, even with the lack of cars around- it still beamed red. “Did I do something?” he asked, worried he offended you in some way.

You sighed, “Yes-”, refusing to look at him, “Yes, you did something.” you muttered as you looked into the glass, staring at him through the reflection.

“I’m sorry- I didn't mean to-” he started apologizing unknowing what he did- but it still felt like he had to.

You let out a laugh that rang through his ears in the sound of a hymn, “You don't even know what you did.” corners of your lips twitching upwards, turning your knees over to him as he looked forward at the now green light- accelerating slowly as you scanned his side profile.

“Must've been something worth an apology if you- of all people are keeping your hands to yourself.” he joked slyly. Only he meant to think those words- not actually say them to you.

You squinted your eyes at his banter, “Oh haha-” you grinned sarcastically, planting your hand onto the seat, “I'll make sure to keep ‘em to myself from now on if you feel that way.” You played, feeling your confidence soak back into your words.

Choso turned his head slightly over to you, low eyes knowing you wouldn't be able to keep that declaration, dropping his hand from the bottom of the wheel as the other held onto the side of it, placing it on the black leather to tempt you. Suddenly the distance you set between you too was too evident- too far, his eyes were forward- watching the road.

You gulped, scanning the top of his veiny hand, slowly you shifted closer to him.

Now close enough that he could sense you, “Choso?” you whispered, earning for a small hum to leave his throat, a childish smile on your lips “Can I hold your hand?” you spoke in a whisper- Choso furrowed his eyebrows at the question.

A gentle grin on his lips, “You don't need to ask me.” he whispered back, looking forward as he heard alarms and bells ring in his head from excitement.

So as you scooched closer to Choso, he held his hand out for you. His heart couldn't help but beat at an alarming pace, so close your thigh was pressed against his. Your knees pointed in his direction as he felt his palm threaten to sweat.

You slumped the tiniest bit into the matte seat, looking up at him as you gently took his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers with his as your other hand caged the back of his palm.

Both of your hands overwhelmed his tender one, smiling as you leaned the side of your head onto his bicep. Resting your joined hands on the seam where his thigh ended and yours began.

“I've always liked your hands.” you mumbled, caressing your thumbs on his skin as he drove- he was grateful the sky was darkening. Cause he was so sure the blush he was sporting on his cheeks was starting to roam down his chest.

Choso’s breathing hitched- catching in his throat, “My h-hands?” feeling his heart pound in his chest. And for the foot that wasn't on the gas to start bouncing nervously.

You giggled, “Yeah, your hands.” you hummed, unaware of the state you were pushing him to. “They're so pretty.” you complimented him with a tone only heard in his frantic dreams.

And as you scanned his jeweled hand engulfed by your own- the veins that trailed up his forearm beneath his pale skin proudly, you smiled as you pressed your thumb down onto a blood filled ridge on the top of his hand. Stopping the blood flow from the prominent vein.

His mind was whirring in his skull- had you said anything else he would've had to pull over to catch his breath.

But you didn't, no you only traced mindless doodles on his skin softly. ‘This has to be some kind of attempt on my life.’ his brain managed as the scent of your perfume infiltrated his nose.

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Though he was eternally grateful to be so- (some would say too close) to you, he felt his lungs able to breathe with a set pace once he found a parking spot in front of the building he was looking for. Streets full of couples as the moon started arising. Choso exhaled expectantly, switching the ignition off and feeling your grasp on his hand loosen.

“We’re here.” he practically choked out. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked onto the street, watching the people walking past the lit up glass doors.

“What's here?” you grinned, straightening your back and looking at Choso, you were so very close to his face. The light on the roof of the car made it very obvious that he was blushing.

“A uh-” he inhaled the air between you, “A museum.” his shoulders were tense, looking from your eyes to the curve of your nose- darting back and forth from the cupid's bow of your lips back up to your eyes. You smiled hearing his hesitant tone- relishing the sight of pure nerves flooding in his pupils from how close you were.

With an amused smile you snorted softly, “Ouu you want to kiss me sooo bad- I can see it-” you teased, earning for Choso to look away from you in embarrassment.

And as you pulled your hands from his, he opened his door, mumbling small curses, racing to the passenger side- reminding himself that he needs to be polite and well-mannered.

As he pulled your door open he held a hand out to you, giving you a brace to step out from the old car.

The sight of your hand in his as you stepped from the car elegantly made one thing click in his mind. Choso felt in his heart that he would be more than happy- elated even, to do this with you every weekend till you were both old and wrinkly.

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Hand in hand as you walked past the white walls. Stopping at any piece of art that caught your attention.

Your eyebrows pulled tight as you looked at a piece painted black with glimmers of red. Choso’s eyes were on your profile as you examined the art, “What do you see?” he mumbled, looking back to the large canvas. Unable to understand how you could see meaning in a few colors.

You sighed, tilting your head and staring at the streaks “It seems sad.” you whispered as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Like the person who painted this was distressed.”

Choso didn't see what you saw- he saw a lazy attempt at modern art- “You can see it in the brush strokes-” you leaned over to him as you pointed to the seemingly violent brush strokes. He tried to see what you saw, “In the way they decided to use a little bit of red.” You continued, looking over to his lost expression.

When you walked into the room of sculptures you stared at an old wooden chair placed on a small platform with a harsh spotlight on it, “Performer.” you read the words on the silver plate at the bottom, “What do you see Choso?” you repeated his question as he stared at the chair.

He squinted his eyes before speaking, “I think it's a chair-”, feeling your elbow shove him gently. He sighed, “Well, the chair is old, and the spotlight is on it almost in a mocking way.” Choso expressed his depiction of the piece. “And the title signifies that the chair is a piece to be gawked at.” he muttered as you smiled at his intune thoughts.

He huffed, almost feeling like he said too much. “You?” he broke your silence as he looked back at you.

“I think it's just a chair.” you mocked with a perked smile.

On the other end of the room there was a wired sculpture, if you looked in the right angle you'd be able to see the projected image within the silver wires.

You were tilting your head trying to make out the image, “I think it's a face?” you whispered as Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “Or two?” you squinted your eyes as you finally saw the image with a gratified exhale.

Choso huffed- frustrated from how tedious this was. “How are you seeing anything?” he asked frustrated as his neck started to strain from how long he was tilting it.

You dropped his hand- taking a step behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders, “Here.” you hummed, moving him to where you previously stood. “Lean down a little-” you whispered, you weren't able to see it- but his eyes were wide and his cheeks were tingling from your guidance.

And as he lowered himself, you placed your hands onto the side of his head- angling it softly to this side as he allowed you to. You stood behind him- close enough for him to be able to feel your breath wisp on his nape. “Can you see it?” you whispered- Choso felt goosebumps form on his arms at your soft tone.

You slid your hands from the side of his head- seeing him stay in place as he looked at the sculpture. “Can you?” you whispered as he raised himself back to stand up straight.

He looked at you with a horrified look on his face, “Yeah I can.” he muttered before you took his hand in yours again.

And when you found the room he specifically chose this museum for- he lit up with a smile.

“Art history-” you read the plaque on the wall.

Choso led you into the dimly lit room, “Finally some real art.” he muttered before turning the corner. Standing before the grand in size portraits- he looked at them in silence. Only you didn't find the same fascination in the old paintings as he did- you found the excitement that gleamed in his eyes more interesting than the dusty art works.

With every piece he knew, he'd tell you the tragedy behind them, star crossed lovers and small comments of the trageties- “Why are you looking at me like that?” he paused his previous sentence, looking at you worried that he was talking too much.

You offered a timid smile, circling your thumb on his skin lovingly. Reaching a pinkie up to his temple and brushing away a loose strand from his temple, “I can't look at you now?” you murmured playfully, his eyes glimmered with shock at the sudden contact against his face.

Choso diverted his eyes from your gaze, looking down to his shoes before mumbling, “You can't look at me like- that.” he felt his heart pound in his chest recalling the expression on your face with closed eyes.

You giggled at his words, “Why not?” you pressed, being able to feel his hand tighten its grip on yours.

He sighed, looking back up to your seemingly intoxicated face. Choso parted his lips, daring to say the first words that came to his mind. You raised your eyebrows and gripped his hand to urge him to give you a reason. “Cause I don't know what it means.” he retorted quietly.

You scoffed, an amused smile on your lips as you nodded your head. Not knowing how he could be so insightful in some ways and completely blind when it came to this.

Your eyes scanned his features, “How many times do I have to tell you before you get it?” you quipped, seeing his eyes pool with confusion at your question.

“I like you so much, Cho.” you whispered, seeing his eyebrows furrow harshly at the shortened version of his name. “I stare at you because I like you.” You assured, “I laugh at everything you say because I like you.”, watching his eyes blink down in timidness. In his mind, actually processing your words took a lot of effort.

“Can I be honest?” you whispered, seeing his lips mouth an ‘okay.’ to your question. “I don’t think I've ever liked someone in the way I like you.” Choso exhaled at your words- mumbling a ‘stop’ as you smiled.

You exhaled, “I'm being serious. You're just-” you started, only for Choso to raise your hand and place it flat onto his chest. His eyes trembled as he looked at you with a stern but pained expression. You raised your eyebrows at how fast his heart pounded in his chest, explaining why he asked you to stop without words.

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, pulling his hand that was wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand flat on his chest as you led his hand towards your exposed cleavage in attempts to show him how fast your own heart was beating.

Only for his eyes to widen and pull his hand from your grasp in shock- all but clutching his imaginary pearls as he hissed your name. Mortified to even think of touching you there.

A small laugh left your throat at how he exclaimed your name. You were kind enough to not attempt to do that again- fearing his heart might go into cardiac arrest from being skin to skin. Instead you pulled your hand from his chest, guiding his opposite one onto your wrist and pressing his index and middle finger onto the pulse in your wrist.

His eyebrows furrowed as he felt your racing pulse against his two fingers, “You make me just as nervous.” you whispered softly, smiling as he parted his lips.

Choso softened his gaze, “You do a great job at hiding it.” he whispered back, recalling every moment his heart palpitated in his chest- wondering if all those times your heart was racing too.

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“I think this is the first official date I've ever been on-” you smiled, now standing outside. Thinking how stupid it was that the exit was on the other end of the building.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “First, first date you mean?” he clarified your statement assumingly.

You scoffed with a smile, “No, the only date I've ever been on.” seeing his expression fall in surprisement.

Choso nodded his head as though that proclamation didn't make his heart burst in his chest, “Besides the times where we'd hang out after class- but I think this one is the first official one.” you grinned, pulling his hand with you as you turned to start walking back to the car.

‘The times we’d hang out..?’ he thought, recalling the afternoons you'd spend with him.

He inhaled quickly, “Those were dates?” he urged with a horrified look on his face, scanning at your profile. You looked at him as you stepped slowly.

Raising your eyebrows almost amused, “Well when two people like each other- and admit it to each other,” You taunted playfully, turning the corner of the sidewalk, “If both are consenting parties-” you continued your mocking tone as Choso listened to your words, to be sure he wouldn't miss hearing what you were saying.

“They start dating.” you teased, looking at him with a smile full of satisfaction.

In his mind, he replayed every moment from when he admitted he liked you till now- reevaluating them at the new information. With warm cheeks that were grazed by the cold air, “Are we..” he started, his palm becoming clammy against yours at the words he dared to spout. “Dating?” He asked, looking at you in a new light at that word.

No longer were you a person he liked- or a school friend. He was a person you were dating.

A soft chuckle left your throat at the dramatized words, “Don't tell me you just wanted to be a situationship?” you asked with feigned offense, furrowing your eyebrows as he listened to your words.

His face fell, trying to process the word you just said, “What is a situationship?” he asked almost scornfully at the unknown word as his grasp in your hand tightened. A sweet laugh left your throat at his question, not even being too sure of what that word meant yourself.

“Cho- are we dating or not?” you asked- turning the question around on him. His face went pink, both at the confrontation and the nickname- looking at you as though you hung the stars in the sky. You raised your eyebrows waiting for his reply.

Choso tried to think- he tried using all 4 fried brain cells in his mind to formulate a proper sentence, but all his trembling lips could muster was one word;

“Yes.”

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The walk back to the car was silent- You were pleased with how much he blushed, how you practically forced him to confirm that your goal was achieved.

Choso, on the other hand, had a mortified look on his face. The fear of taking the first step was long gone since the first 3 steps were already taken unbeknownst to him. In his mind he started seeing every possibility, every negative thing that could wait for him 10 miles down the road. Choso knew he should've been elated- but he couldn't help the heavy feeling in his chest as he thought of the future.

Staring at him lovingly, “Where to now?” you broke the silence as he opened the car door for you, holding your hand with trembling fingers as you eased into the vehicle.

Choso hurried to the other side of the car, taking a deep breath before getting into it. Thinking how everything is different now- he drove this car as your friend and now he was driving it as a person you were dating.

You scooched back to the spot you previously sat in, “I hope you're hungry-” he started, his cheeks tingling as he felt your hand interlock with his again, “God– I am starving.” You interrupted, looking over to him with an enticing grin.

Choso smiled to himself, “I have a fridge full of groceries waiting for us.” he tried ignoring your tracing thumbs as he put the car in drive.

You reached a hand over and pushed a few stray strands of hair that blocked his profile from you. “You gonna cook for me?” You hummed sweetly, seeing the blush on his cheeks deepen.

A small ‘Mhm’ left his lips as he pulled out of the street parking, you looked at him with adoring eyes, intoxicated on how close you were to him. “Those plates were definitely a good idea huh?” you asked smugly.

He sighed with a smile, “Yes. They were a phenomenal idea.” he fed into your boastful tone.

You looked at him, admiring that he cared enough to agree with you,“You’re so-” you hesitated as you tried to find the word, “So,” Choso was smiling as he awaited your words. You gritted your teeth- feeling cuteness aggression, “It's like I made you in a computer.” You smiled, hearing a hearty laugh from his chest.

The entire ride back to the campus- you didn't let go of his hand. The cringey love songs played on the radio quietly, with any song you recognized you’d tell him a memory from your upbringing. Grazing the tips of your fingers along his larger ones.

Choso made sure to listen to every single word you'd speak into the air- “M’sorry I know I'm talking a lot-” you sighed, noticing he wasn’t replying to your words.

Hee scoffed, “Don't apologize- I like listening to you talk.” flashing his eyes over to you as you nodded your head in disbelief at how smoothe he could be at times.

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You didn't check your phone the entire time. So you were happily relishing in the peace you felt being in the presence of him.

Walking past the entryway of his apartment, reaching into your coat pocket and taking it off as Choso reached for it in your hand, hanging it along with his on the coat rack.

You checked the stupid piece of aluminum, widening your eyes at the countless messages from your overbearing roommate, and checking the time. 9:05 pm as you heard Choso set down the boxed plates onto the kitchen counter in front of you.

You sighed as you pulled out a barstool from the wall, furiously typing as Choso gently peeled off the tape from the box.

Looking across the kitchen counter at you as you settled on the barstool with furrowed eyebrows. Scanning your bugged expression, “Everything okay?” he pulled you from your thoughts.

You sighed as you shut off the phone, placing it onto the counter faced down as you looked at him- completely defeated. “I’m moving out.” you claimed with a deadpan tone.

Choso looked at you from the cabinet, “What now?” he smiled as he reached for a pan.

“I have like- 50 texts and 20 missed calls from my-” you were interrupted, Choso finished your sentence, ‘roommate’, watching as you huffed a sweet smile at how he knew what you were ranting about. “Regardless, I'm moving- even if I live on the street for a few days. I can't stay at that house anymore.” You sighed, watching Choso turn on two knobs on the stove.

Looking at him with defeated eyes, “You won't live on the street.” he assured, turning around and opening the fridge.

You rested your elbow on the counter, placing your chin in your hand as you watched him set various small containers of already prepared herbs onto the counter. “At the end of the day people really are disappointing aren't they?” you asked with a sigh, watching as he pulled out two pre-marinated chicken breasts from the fridge.

Choso decided to ignore your previous statement- not wanting to sullen the mood even more, “Are they like this with your other roommates?” he asked with a smile, drizzling oil into the pan. Going to lower the heat on the small steel pot on the back burner before moving to stand in front of you.

You watched as he slowly pulled his jewelry from his fingers, “No- if anything they enable their behavior.” eyeing the silver metal on the counter, your proclamation earning a sigh from Choso.

He noticed your eyes following his hands, furrowing his eyebrows at your gawking. “You need better roommates.” he declared, turning to the sink and washing his hands as you reached for the abandoned metal he left on the counter.

As you rolled the warm metal in your hand you sighed, “I need to move out is what I need-” watching as he dried his hands. You smirked to yourself, “If I was your neighbor would you cook for me everyday?” You asked- half joking as he looked up from the searing pan.

Choso smiled at your question, picking up one of the raw chickens, “If you were my neighbor I’d cook for you anytime you asked.” he flashed his eyes up at you before placing the white meat into the pan, a loud sizzle coming from the action.

You rested your elbows onto the counter with a hearty giggle, “You say that now- But when m’knocking at your door 2-3 times a day- you can't complain.” you warned, watching as he let out a half laugh.

He picked up metal tongs from the utensil holder, “If you knock on my door 2-3 times a day- I won't have any reason to complain,” he spoke your name in reassurance as he flipped the grilling chicken on the other side.

You laughed to yourself, not being able to sense any nervousness or hesitation in his words anymore, almost as though he gained more confidence in the past half hour.

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As he plated the cooked chicken, you watched with a grumbling stomach. Almost drooling as he scooped a decent portion of mashed potatoes onto the brand new white plate, “God- that looks so good.” You bit your lip, reaching your hands to the plate.

“Wait-” he held onto the edgeas he reached for a pre-cut lemon- squeezing it gently as the citrus glazed the browned chicken.

With a warm smile he spoke, “There- now you can eat it.” looking down to the beautifully plated meal, you sighed. Grabbing onto the edge of the plate and pulling it towards you.

You looked back to him, “I can wait for you-” you muttered, hoping he'd say no.

He exhaled, smiling as he watched your eyes full of hunger flicker from him back down to your serving. “It's okay- you eat.” He assured, watching the smile return on your lips as you picked up the metal fork placed on the side of the plate.

Choso watched you expectantly, the fork scraping against the plate as you sliced into the meat-piercing the chunk you cut off and lifting it to your lips, looking at him as you placed the fork into your mouth. The warmth from the grilled chicken landing on your tongue as you pulled the fork from your lips- leaving nothing on it with a sigh from your nose.

Chewing a few times as you closed your eyes, savoring the flavor between every bite.

You swallowed, opening your eyes and nodding your head, “You're insane.” you mumbled, looking at his expression unchanged- not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Please finish cooking so I can eat more-” you joked, placing the fork onto your plate, he scoffed at the words that seemed like a compliment.

And as you asked, he plated his own serving, not with a quarter as much love nor care- but it was infront him as he leaned down to take a bite, assuring you it was fine for you to continue eating.

He hummed as he placed the fork down onto his plate, “I didn't even offer you anything to drink-” he scoffed to himself reaching to the cupboard above his head and pulling down two glass cups.

You opened your mouth- hesitating to speak as you watched him turn to the fridge, “Not to sound alcohol-dependent or anything-” you grinned as he peeked back to you. “But do you…?” you insinuated with half lidded eyes.

Choso sighed, “I don't. I have water and orange juice.” he mumbled, knowing exactly what you were trying to do- but he knew in his bones it wouldn't have been a good idea to let you drink right now.

You gave a half laugh, “Water is fine.” you smiled as he reached into the fridge. Choosing to keep the bottle of ‘Titos’ he had a secret from you.

Pulling out a glass bottle from the fridge he had bought yesterday. Pouring water into your glass as you chewed on your affection infused meal.

You placed down your fork, swallowing the previous bite before reaching for the cold glass. “You'd really be okay with me moving next door?” watching his eyes trail down to his plate.

Choso inhaled, “If it makes you happier- and not feel so stressed, I would let you move in here-” he spoke mindlessly, halting his chewing as he realized what he said. He inhaled sharply- feeling like your silence was deafening. He was about to apologize-

Only you laughed, “All my clothes would not fit in your closet.” you inhaled as you placed a bite of the mashed potatoes into your mouth. He huffed through his nose at your comment, pleased that you took it as a joke rather than how he truly meant it.

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Somewhere between him finishing half of his meal and your 5th compliment on how fucking good the food tasted- a battle ship board was put up between you.

Furrowed eyebrows staring back at you as he called out a number on the board. You hissed as you looked at your side of the game, “Nope.” you grinned as he gruffed at his attempts.

You were examining your grid, trying to use all the divination you could muster before he spoke up- “Did I tell you I'm thinking of getting a job?” he smiled, watching your furrowed eyebrows ease at the question.

You gasped, “No! Don't do that-” holding a peg in your hand as his expression churned to confusion. “I won't be able to see you as often.” you pouted, looking down at your board. The words seemingly came unfiltered from your heart, and the sight of you pouting at the idea of not being able to see him as much anymore was more than enough to push that idiocy to the side.

And though you meant it as a half joke, it still pained you to know that now- of all times. When things were finally advancing, he'd pull away.

“If you need money-” your lungs threatened to laugh at the words forming on your lips. “I'd be more than happy to pay for your time.” You spewed as though you were a sleazy 80 year old man speaking to a lady of the night.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows and parted his lips, “Like an escort??” he huffed a laugh, you looked up from your board with an entertained smile. “No- no, not like an escort-” you defended.

Calling out a number on the board as he nodded his head. “Like a paid…” you thought of the word, “Though I can't call you a friend anymore can I?” You spoke to yourself as he scanned his side of the plastic game, smiling at the thought that you'd no longer hesitate when referring to him.

He inhaled as he took a bite from the coldening food, looking over to your plate and seeing you had finished. “I thought you were broke?” he spoke thoughtlessly, not being able to feel the hesitance before he spoke now.

Your smile fell, he squinted his eyes as you shook off the sudden heavy feeling- “You're that expensive?” you chirped, looking at him bewildered at the thought he might've taken your words seriously.

Choso scoffed, “No, you don't have to pay me to hang out with you.” he reiterated, watching as you fiddled with the peg in your hand. Recalling your query of if he'd mind if you were his neighbor. “But I remember you said you were broke..?” he looked at you with detective eyes as you called out a square on the grid. Sucking his teeth when you actually hit one of his boats.

You hummed as you avoided eye contact, “I uhh-” you lowered your shoulders and raised a brow, “I figured it out.” flashing a warm smile at him. Only you meant it in an assuring way- Choso saw past it. He saw the way your lips fell after you said that, the way your eyes dimmed from recalling what you were hiding.

You cleared your throat, “Meaning, I can afford your company now.” you circled back to the silly topic with a smile, Choso sneered through his nose at your insistence. He opened his mouth to speak- but you spoke before he could.

“What kind of job?” you looked at him, changing the topic before he called out a number on the grid.

He sucked his teeth, “I was thinking at the library- Quiet, don't have to do a whole lot.” He muttered as he studied the target grid. “Or I could apply to be a TA.”squinting before calling out a number.

You tightened your lips, mouthing a curse as you marked a small boat with a red peg. “Why now of all times?” you asked as you waited for him to call out another number.

Choso parted his lips- almost saying the words that popped into his mind before closing his mouth. “No- say what you were thinking.” you caught onto the little habit he had developed since he was a child.

He smiled at your attentiveness, “I was thinking, now that I’m..” looking at you with a blushing smile, you raised your eyebrows, all but saying ‘go on.’

“Now that I am seeing someone.” he murmured, looking down at the board embarrassed and trying to ignore your gaze, you laughed at his avoidant eyes.

You inhaled, nodding your head ‘no’ disapprovingly. “You don't need to get a job just because we're dating, Cho.” you assured, standing from the barstool and taking a step around the end of the kitchen counter, standing before his figure as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Look at all the times we've hung out- not once did we need money or to go out to have fun.” placing a hand on his bicep and squeezing gently to affirm your words even more.

Choso inhaled, “Would it be enough?” he muttered as he looked down to his shoes. You scoffed, trailing your hand down to his forearm, then to his hand.

“I would be more than fulfilled if all we did was stay here and play board games day after day.” you whispered, holding your hand gently in his as he felt his throat close up-

He looked back to you with creased eyebrows, the tip of his nose daring to turn pink from an expression that looked close to tears. “You want a hug?” you asked sweetly, hearing a sniffle from his nose before pulling you to him.

Your hands wrapped around his waist as his arms rested atop your shoulders, holding you tightly as your bodies came together in a perfect mold. Choso held one hand on the back of your neck softly, the other pressed taut between your shoulder blades as you smiled into his chest, circling your hands soothingly on his spine, he sniffled before speaking.

“Be honest. Did you come over here to look at where my boats were?” you breathed out- defeated that he saw through your plot. Pulling away from him as his hands hesisted to let you go from the hug that felt like home.

You looked at him with a cheeky smile, “I did.” you nodded, looking over to his side of the board and seeing you were close to winning by a few more pegs. You looked back to him, parting your lips expectantly as he took a step back.

‘Be well-mannered’ Choso thought as he watched you brush off the slight disappointment.

He cleared his throat, “I think it's time to take you home.” he smiled, watching your eyes blink down to your shoes that had to be uncomfortable by now.

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The trip to your house was short now that there was a car, and yet- you still held onto him as though it was the last time you'd have the chance to.

Choso parked on the opposite side of the street, turning off the car as your eyes looked at the wooden door across the street almost resentfully. “Ready?” he asked, knowing you’d refuse to face the music were he not there.

With a begrudged exhale, you nodded your head.

Choso held the car door open for you, holding your hand as you stepped onto the street. You almost resented how polite he was- knowing if it were anyone else they would have invited you to stay the night- regardless if it was a first date.

But not him, Choso didn't dare to even think of asking that of you.

And as you stood before him on your unlit porch, you smiled, “Thank you.” with a whisper, looking into his eyes as he scanned the prominent aspects of your face.

“Don't thank me.” he murmured, his voice low and throaty as he watched the sparkle in your eye round your pupil.

With a modist smile, you looked at him impatiently. “I think this is where you kiss me goodnight.” you leaned forward mere millimeters as Choso refused to step back this time.

He gulped at your words, “It wouldn't be polite.” he dissuaded lowly as you grinned innocently.

Close enough that you were breathing the same air- “It would be more impolite not to, Choso.” you compelled, watching his gaze dart from your lips back to your eyes.

He raised his hands to the side of your face- thumbs caressing your temples softly, parting your lips as his fingers kept a light touch beneath your ears. You fluttered your eyes closed as you heard ringing in your mind, cheeks warm and tingling as you awaited.

Only you awaited something to press against your lips- But Choso had other plans.

His parted lips pressed onto the center of your forehead, pulling away with your head in his hands. It wasn't disappointment- more like a challenge that you felt. “Goodnight,” he spoke your name in an intoxicating tone, softly taking his hands from your face and taking a step back from you.

You couldn't help but smile at his chivalry, “You're cruel.” you whispered, earning a quiet half-laugh from his chest.

“It’s not respectful to kiss you on a first date.” He scolded playfully, watching you roll your eyes lightheartedly.

You stared at him as you leaned your back onto the door, placing your hand on the brass knob before sucking your teeth. “When is a respectful time then?” you murmured, watching his hands slide into his coat pockets.

“Third. Maybe even fourth date.” he smiled, knowing that would gain a feigned groan of dissatisfaction from you. Though it was earlier than you'd like- 10:43 to be exact, you were still grateful he was courteous enough to bring you back home as though you had a curfew.

“Goodnight Cho.” you smiled, turning the brass knob as he kept his eyes on you.

Were the porch light on you’d be able to see the beaming blush on his cheeks, “Goodnight.” he replied sweetly, watching as you stepped into your house, taking one last look at him before waving a small goodbye.

Choso was able to contain the excitement in his throat till he turned away from your porch, his lungs threatening to start hyperventilating as he tried to confirm with himself if that actually just happened. He stood at the car door- looking up at the sky and thanking whatever celestial being was out there for the lucky hand he was dealt.

There was one thought in his mind at that moment. He was now sure that you made him feel more alive and far less lost than he felt without you. And he relished in that thought as he drove back to his apartment, no longer fearing the future- if anything he was thrilled to know that for the first time, love finally loved him back.

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and if I told you I over indulged sooo much in this chapter??? and if i said........ I almost hemorrhaged writing this?!!! this was too cute, (just wait till I write abt the first time they have sex) And if you're curious- yes the rewarding cigarette was delicious.

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eddies-house · 8 months

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter One - Damn Mailbox

W/C: 5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

A/N: I'm super excited to start this lil series, I've had this idea for a little while and I can never resist writing total opposites, it's just so fun to explore their dynamic when they want to reject each other so bad. Also a lot of this fic is inspired by Smoke Signals by Phoebe Bridgers (hence the name). As always I would love your feedback and any comments y’all have 🙂 OH and finally...the hugest largest biggest thank you to @uglypastels for beta reading and proof reading and all that good stuff, it was SO appreciated and really helped smooth things out ILY Z YOU'RE SO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO 💜

Masterlist

Morning dew was like an old friend, someone you hadn’t paid attention to since childhood but felt so familiar with, so…safe. Maybe it was a little too ridiculous to find security in a few dew drops but arriving in a new town with a population of less than five hundred would have that effect. Twists and turns of windy roads unknown, trees larger than any house, and barely any infrastructure would all frazzle anyone not accustomed to its elements. Normally you wouldn’t get car sick but these roads were a beast you’d never encountered before in your life, stomach threatening to send back your lunch of tuna on white bread and a bag of Doritos. You refused to let bile even trace your tongue so with just enough self control, you swallowed any sickness down and pushed forward. Now you were hunched over in the driver’s seat, the door open as you sucked in the fresh mountain air, perfect lengthy blades of grass grazing the bottom of the door. Just before you, up the driveway made up of damp dirt, was home. A home you were a stranger to at the moment but hoped to at least become acquaintances with. Lower expectations created less disappointment. If you dive in head first, you can only guarantee yourself vulnerability and pain, slow and steady was the only pace.

It’s not permanent; you are just figuring things out.

It’s what you kept preaching to yourself during the altitude change, where flatter land transformed into large mountains, the tallest peaks coated in white. Where your ears popped and your brain felt pressure. And then shortly after, you were submerged deep into the forests, far from home, where you knew there was no going back for quite some time. It was a trial run although it didn’t feel that way when the moving truck packed with your life pulled up just minutes after you, delivering every piece of your life to some cabin in a secluded town that was nearly invisible on any map. Temporary was starting to feel foreign when everything felt more set in stone.

You’d think a town called ‘Knife’s Edge’ would steer you away and maybe that was the intent when it was first named; to ward off newcomers who had no business being out in the woods. But it only intrigued you. From what you could find out in a few tourism magazines, Knife’s Edge was not somewhere you went for a getaway, not according to the locals who were a tight knit community where everyone knew everyone. The economy relied on the small businesses down in The Village, on Main Street which according to your calculations was about five miles down the road and around the lake then up. That was the extent of knowledge you’d had on your new home and yes, maybe you should have gathered more information before daring to even place a down payment on some random cabin in the woods but when a new start calls, you either answer the phone or stare at it until nothing happens. The cabin was either yours if you paid the down payment or it would’ve been torn down and sold to the neighbor for more land which would’ve sent you on your way again, on a wild goose chase for a new place that you could fit into. Not that you were too sure that you’d even fit in here. But it seemed too obvious that this was where you were meant to be when the realtor advised that it was yours at a low down payment, a steal. So you’d try to make it work.

The moving truck’s door startled you, slamming against the top as two men got to work, unloading all your belongings. You figured this was your cue to exit your beat-up sedan to unlock the front door–wide-paneled and made of a beautiful dark oak. The crunch of pebbles and dirt alerted the movers to your presence where you let them know you were going to open up so they could begin their tedious process, one of them grumbling something incoherent in response. As you approached even closer, there were knicks and dents decorating the surface of the door but it seemed to add to the essence. The wooden steps creaked underneath your weight and upon glancing around the porch, you found two well built rocking chairs that the previous owner must have left behind. Other than that, there were pine needles and other debris from the surrounding nature caked in the corners, some scattered along the rest of the floor that would need to be swept up but it wasn’t an urgent task in comparison to actually setting up your bed and other necessities.

The lock was stubborn as you twisted the key but with one more persistent shove and turn, it clicked and you were able to push your way in, the hinges painfully squeaking as you made a mental note to pick up some WD40. The air inside was stale, smelling of dust and maybe a half hearted spritz of air freshener. Or maybe it was drenched in air freshener but it did little to nothing to cover up the smell of an old abandoned cabin; you weren’t sure. It was a modest size, the kitchen off to the right, tucked into the corner with a small island in the center. The living room was the first room you walked into from the front, the floorplan more open than you’d expected. A little to the left was a narrow hallway with shutter doors lining both sides, you assumed one side had to be the laundry. The door at the end had to be the bedroom and the door just before you embark into the hall had to be the bathroom but you had no time to explore right now.

Morning light trickled in through the kitchen window just above the stove, creating a beautiful hue against the wood paneling of the walls which you only noticed as you came back in, setting a box that was labeled ‘kitchen’ on the counter before rushing back out to retrieve more of your belongings. It was too early to be doing such strenuous work but that's what you get for securing a slot with the moving company first thing in the morning. In hindsight, you didn’t realize you were signing yourself up to meet said moving truck at 6:00 AM but in your defense, you’d never done this before.

By 7:00 AM the truck was fully unloaded and on its way out and with it went the grumpy movers, more than likely unsatisfied with the fact that they’d have to trek back down the mountain. You graciously offered them an extra twenty bucks which they gladly took but still appeared crabby nonetheless. Now for the part you had been dreading the most: unpacking each box and putting everything in its respective place. But first, you wanted to take it all in. You were right; the laundry was on the left side of the hall behind the shutter door and on the other side was a closet. The bedroom was settled right where you had guessed, at the end of the hall and rather than being empty, it now held your bed and mattress, sheets still yet to be found among the boxes labeled ‘bedroom’ in thick sharpie. The wallpaper was something you could do without but maybe you’d find time to peel it off later and replace it with something more to your taste. Currently the bedroom walls were lined with floral designs and pale blue stripes and if you could be honest, the design was a bit too busy for your liking. But it was a roof over your head for a good price so complaining was out of the equation.

At the opposite end of the hall, just off the living room was the bathroom, sporting a less off putting wallpaper of faded yellow and white vertical stripes. You first ensured your hygiene essentials were in place, toothbrush and toothpaste in a glass on the sink, towels on the rack, and soaps set up in the shower including shampoo, conditioner, and bar of Dove. Having these accessible was a priority, cleanliness being one of the most important factors of your daily routine.

Clothes were next and you’d forgotten a box in your trunk of your most worn items of clothing that you could pick through until you were fully settled. Lazily carrying yourself back to the driveway where your maroon sedan sat on top of the copper-toned dirt, you do a double take when you realize your mailbox was taken out, wood splintering out of the ground as the poor box lays among the grass at the edge of the street. From what you could remember, it was fully intact when you first drove up so you’re forced to conclude that the movers you’d tipped generously must have run it over and not given it a second thought.

The half of the mailbox that rested on the ground was a lot heavier than it looked and you would’ve thought it was made of cement just by the weight. You felt pathetic dragging it up the driveway, creating a prominent line in the dirt along the way. A brief break in getting the damn thing up to your porch has you about half way up the driveway, glancing around at your surroundings, only to finally take into account that you had a neighbor relatively close by, a cabin similar to yours only a few hundred yards away except it was a darker wood and a red pickup sat idle in front of it.

You braced yourself, catching your breath to continue hauling the mailbox back until you can figure out how to repair it when your eyes catch on figure, a man making his way down the steps of the cabin you’d just been analyzing. And you’re quick to shy away until you realize he’d already been looking at you, a cocky grin on his face as he slowly, almost tauntingly stepped off his porch. The way he walked closer reminded you of a lion declaring its territory, especially with the mane of curls he had, shaggy and brunette. He wasn’t close enough to allow you to examine any further; however, you caught the click of his tongue before he spoke.

“Gonna get splinters draggin’ wood around like that.”

It’s all he says, a toothpick between his teeth before he turns on his heel, combat boot digging into the soil and it’s only then that you realize he wasn’t offering assistance, he was simply picking up the hose connected to his spigot to rinse off his windshield which now that he’d drawn attention to it, was filthy with mud and leaves. He wore a red and black flannel which reminded you of a lumberjack but this man just didn’t fit that description based on your short interaction with him. Or rather his interaction with you. Your first indication was that he had no facial hair; he was clean-shaven. And his tight jeans that had black rips at the knees didn’t seem very suitable for a job that required a larger range of motion.

Without any further acknowledgement of your existence, he hopped in his truck and sped off around the bend without a care in the world. He was a resident douchebag and you’d never even spoken a word to him. You quickly realized you were still stood in the middle of the driveway with half a mailbox, grunting in protest as you lugged it the rest of the way up to the porch, leaning it against the railing for future contemplation on how to repair it or if you’d have to fork up money for a brand new one. That was a problem for future you and though future you would be pissed at past you for putting the responsibility on her, you had other things to sort out such as unpacking the rest of the kitchen so you’d be able to actually use it to feed yourself. And then of course you’d have to make your way into town a ways down the road to actually get groceries because not a crumb of anything edible was packed. Aside from a bag of Chex Mix that sat in the passenger seat of your car that you’d picked up at a gas station.

–

Going overboard was an understatement when it came to how much you’d actually gotten done. By 12:00 PM you almost had each room unpacked and put away, moving boxes discarded next to the front door to be thrown out later. Your plan was to finish off the kitchen and then go into town. Instead you finished the kitchen and moved from room to room with more motivation than you’d ever experienced in your life. Maybe it was the adrenaline of living alone, no one else could tell you what to do or where to put things. It was all up to you and maybe you were a little drunk off that power. Regardless, you were now worn out and that energy didn’t last very long. At least you had a freshly made bed for when you came back, that’s what you would reward yourself with.

If you go grocery shopping then you can come back and nap.

There were still various projects to be done, items to be organized, and objects without a home but for the most part, you could sleep peacefully with the work you’d done today. The floors were yet to be cleaned and the fridge still needed a good scrub down but that could wait until tonight after you properly refueled.

Humming to some song you’d heard on the radio earlier, you make your way out the door, patting your pockets for your keys and wallet, both of which you had before locking up and heading for the car. You rolled your eyes passing the mutilated mailbox, settling into the driver’s seat with an ache in your back from the grueling labor in the early hours of the morning. Shifting into drive and then rapidly back to park, you remember that these roads are foreign to you and that you could easily get lost and possibly become a bear’s lunch with your luck. With a tug, the glove box opens and reveals the map you had set in it before embarking on our journey. The map that was mailed to you of the town didn’t seem very complicated. But if you happened to make a wrong turn it could land you amongst some rocky cliffs which you thought better to stay away from. So you carefully examined the route to town, what the people here seemed to call The Village Square. You took the liberty of drawing your house on the map, a cute little doodle in blue gel pen and then proceeding to draw the rest of the route in the same blue so you’d always have it.

This was it. A fresh start where no one knew your name. This would be good for you. At least that's what you kept trying to convince yourself.

Goodbye someone else’s daughter and hello new self-made woman.

–

You weren’t lost. You were just…exploring.

Okay, you were a little lost but the signs for The Village Square kept passing you by and yet you found yourself also passing the same exact pine trees–and you knew they were the same pine trees because every time you saw them you thought ‘hey that kinda looks like a dog’. At some point it started to feel as if you were spawning in and out of some dimension until you finally turned into a lot directly behind one of the signs, sick of this game of hide and seek. There were no signs for parking which is why you’d passed by so many times in the first place, and now it seemed like you were behind a restaurant of some kind. This couldn’t be where everyone parked, right? Anxiety was pooling in your stomach and before you could sike yourself out, you ultimately decided to park and walk from here. You would only be a few minutes and hopefully you’d be able to muster up the courage to ask someone where to park from now on, even if it did make you seem like an idiot.

Leaves crunched under your sneakers, an obvious indication of the Fall season trickling one leaf at a time. As if you were a wary animal, you cautiously walked around the building, finding that it was someplace called The Bourbon; the letters written out in neon red lights that weren’t yet illuminated, the open sign in the window dull signifying they were closed. You let your eyes roam up and down the street, small businesses lined up all the way through and a few patrons, clearly with an agenda making their way along the sidewalks. It was a cute place, nestled in a little valley. Instead of plain old cement the sidewalks were cobblestone and overall it seemed to be a pedestrian oriented community with several cross walks and barely any traffic.

From here you had no idea how to get to Marvin’s Grocery, which seemed to be one of the only produce stores around according to your map. The others were a little more out of the way, your house conveniently only around five miles away from The Village Square. The shops you passed as you attempted to gain a sense of direction were exquisite. Mom-and-pop shops that either smelled of delicious baked goods or hunger-inducing aromas that filled your nostrils with savory goodness. The smell would haunt you in the best way for days to come. A candle shop piqued your interest, as well as a flower shop that bloomed so beautifully among the muted tones of the brick buildings around it.

Everything was so unlike what you were used to, back home things were more commercialized, built for quantity not quality. Here it seemed to be the polar opposite which you could appreciate. Corporations were the root of all evil and you had yet to see one single corporation among the several businesses you passed so far. People seemed friendly but also confused by your presence, offering you a meaningful wave accompanied by a puzzled expression written on every face you encountered. You were a stranger and it was becoming more apparent the deeper you found yourself in the square. Some people whispered and you happened to snag onto a few words, mostly grasping ‘is she new?’. In return, you graced them with a polite smile. It wasn’t like you to initiate small talk or approach new friendships. If they happened, they happened per the other party’s account, not yours, never one to try and stand out in the crowd only making this infinitely more uncomfortable for you, which was no one’s fault other than your own insecurity.

Eventually you were able to come face to face with the giant ‘Marvin’s Grocery’ sign which looked to be handpainted in big white letters outlined in black with a few cartoony carrots, a tomato, and a head of lettuce. Wandering around for an extra ten minutes and refusing to ask for help certainly wasn’t ideal but it did familiarize you with the shops you would soon be buying from on the regular. And it did give you a soft introduction to the small population of Knife’s Edge which despite the name, the people seemed lovely enough.

The store wasn’t the slightest bit crowded and it wasn’t very large either. A mother and her two kids skimmed one of the aisles while an older man pondered over the produce, apples specifically. Grabbing a cart, you begin gathering the items you had sorted out on a list in your head. First bananas, grapes, and blueberries, you didn’t want to bother with too much produce as it went bad fast and you were only one person so those would do for now. Then you moved on to pantry essentials, canned goods that you could stock up on and always have on hand. Green beans, corn, peas, baked beans, even soups such as tomato, cream of mushroom, and the standard chicken noodle.

You’d built up a cart full in no time, and by then, no one else was around so you noted that this time would be perfect to get your shopping done in the future so as to avoid as many people as possible. The cashier was a woman, probably in her early sixties who seemed not all that intimidating which you were grateful for. She smiles warmly and you appreciate the sentiment, grinning back at her as you place each item at the register.

“You’re new. But I bet you’ve already had an earful of that, haven’t you?” She lightly teases.

You laugh softly, avoiding eye contact while still trying to remain well mannered, taking notice in small glances that the woman’s name tag reads Donnie in bold red letters as well as the ‘help wanted’ sign perched up against the window. She seems friendly, a little rough around the edges though in the sense that she had several tattoos that disappeared into the rolled up sleeve of her blue crewneck sweater as well as a fire in her icy blue eyes. You could already guess that she was quite the character.

“Don’t let them scare you off.” Donnie carefully bags the eggs with a few more light items, her confidence radiating, as if she doesn’t even need to try, as if it just comes to her so naturally. Something you could only wish for every once in a blue moon. “We don’t get many newbies. They’ll get it outta their system.” Her voice is a tad scratchy but smooth otherwise, bringing a strange sense of comfort.

“Thank you.” A mouse may as well have been louder than you but you tried and that’s what counts, right? New people were not your thing but they would have to become your thing, moving to a place where no one knew you existed and all. Or maybe you could fly under the radar? It couldn’t hurt to become the mysterious outsider that spoke to no one although it wasn’t a very realistic ambition.

This was fucked. You thought to yourself in the solitude of your brain. Of course the second thoughts were coming now and not before you bought the damn property that tied you to this place. Initially, the idea was a temporary situation far from home but the deeper you delved into this town, the more permanent it started to feel. Not just anyone up and moved here and that was clear by the reaction you pulled from several onlookers. And yet you moved here, bought that damn cabin with the money left to you from your father’s estate, and ultimately, left everything you knew in a manic state. A mid life crisis in your early twenties.

“Miss, your change.” The woman broke through your thoughts and you must have shifted into autopilot, not even remembering handing her any money in the first place.

“S-sorry.” You mutter, collecting the filthy coins in your palm, shoving them into the front pocket of your jeans which you knew would be a pain to dig out later but again, that was an issue for future you. She hated your guts.

“No prob–”

It was abrupt, your exit but despite your rude departure, she called out “I’m Donnie!” and you never felt like a shittier person. She was welcoming you to her home and you didn’t even have the decency to introduce yourself. That’s how it looked at least, on the inside you were panicking and needed to isolate yourself immediately.

You must have looked like a maniac carrying your groceries in a near sprint toward the direction of your car. Everyone else seemed to move at such a mellow pace, not a single vein close to popping out of stress whereas you looked like you’d crumble under the slightest inconvenience. Which you would if you didn’t get to the car fast enough. A small misstep causing you to trip? No chance, you wouldn’t show your face again for weeks. Your groceries spilling all over the pavement because of said possible misstep? You would consider moving all over again.

Thankfully the majority of the walk back to the little lot behind one of many businesses was blacked out, your heart practically pumping in your ear the whole time. What you couldn’t black out from was the man-the same man from this morning smoking a cigarette as he stared at your car. Fear drenched you; you couldn’t gauge his expression with his back to you but you could guess he wasn’t going to be smiling with the way he was lingering, shuffling his boots back and forth in contemplation.

Announcing yourself felt like the most daunting task in the world, humiliation melting into your skin like an uncomfortable burn. Maybe some higher power heard your pathetic struggle because the crunch of your sneaker on a perfectly placed leaf called his attention to you, his head snapping in your direction instantly.

The urge to just run was strong but you maintained whatever cool was left within you, fingers waving at him weakly.

His expression was blank, unreadable. He didn’t say a word as you slowly inched your way closer to the vehicle, only eyeing your every movement like a predator protecting his territory, much like he did that same morning. The closer view of his face showcased his stoic yet soft features, eyes almost puppy dog-like but something glazed over them, a facade of some kind. Something that overtook the puppy dog nature they were capable of and replaced them with a cruel glare. The shape of his nose was endearing at least, rounded at the tip and tinted pink from the cold.

“You just park anywhere you want where you’re from?” He asks, gesturing vaguely with a tip of his cigarette toward the car.

Your shaky breath has him furrowing his brows at you, seemingly offended. It’s not in your nature to offend people but you can’t seem to stop doing it, especially today whether you mean to or not. But you definitely don’t think you mean to.

“N-no, ‘m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He mocks, scoffing before inhaling a puff of smoke once more.

“I-I uh, I’m leaving. It won’t happen again.” You rush out, all the while forcing yourself not to cry. “I just–I couldn’t find parking–I was driving around and—there was no–I couldn’t–”

“Don’t let it happen again.” He warns, stern but easing up on his intense demeanor.

“Promise.” You whisper, a tear betraying you and rolling down your cheek to which you quickly gather your grocery bags in one hand to swat away at your cheek. It’s too late, he already saw.

No empathy is detected in his stare, not that you feel you deserve any. It was just an observation. “Now, get out of my lot.” It’s a demand, a non-negotiable demand that if you were brave enough to argue, would probably have him towing your shitty little sedan.

So you nod, blinking back the water works as best you could while tossing your groceries into the passenger seat, him watching the whole time. With your seatbelt suddenly feeling like the most complicated thing in the world, you expect to look up and meet pure rage but instead your ears perk up at a few knocks on the window. Rolling it down as fast as possible with the manual handle, the man stands towering over you, cigarette abandoned sometime in between you getting in the car and struggling to remember how a seatbelt works. Did he have more choice words for you for illegally parking on what he deemed ‘his lot’? You really didn’t want to stick around to find out but you had no choice.

“Left on Main. Then right on Cherry.” His dark eyes hinted at hues of warm honey but they were briskly dismissed by his cold attitude.

“What?”

“Next time. So you don’t turn into my damn lot again.”

You still didn’t know what he meant by ‘his lot’ and you didn’t have the backbone to ask. You did however fully get the message that you were to never park here again and were now aware of which streets to search for to avoid it at all costs. You’d memorize every detail of it if it meant you could steer clear of the apathetic man before you. With a nervous nod, you were off, not once looking back just as he did that morning except he had more grit in his actions, you just came off as a scared church mouse. You never even caught his name and you didn’t mind not knowing it at this rate seeing as he was all bite and bark for no good reason.

This place never felt so far from home. Nowhere was home. Your heart was in a sense homeless, lost and longing for the connections that these people had with each other that you couldn’t seem to tap into even if your life depended on it. In all fairness, it had only been a few hours and you couldn’t gauge your success based on that but it was tugging on your brain like a parasite, eating away at your final optimistic thoughts.

I don’t belong here.

I don’t fit in.

The drive ‘home’ was flooded with tears and muffled sobs into your now sticky sleeve, coated in snot and if anyone were to pass you along the way you would look psychotic with how your face scrunched up at every exhale, doing your best to keep yourself quiet despite being the only one in the car. You were always doing your best. Always to please others. And it never worked.

~end~

Masterlist

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