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twilightcitysky · 9 months

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Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 3)

Part one

Part two

There's SO MUCH excellent meta out there right now, and I'm going to try not to reinvent the wheel too much, but I want to keep going with tying the episodes/ elements up together because on first watch it wasn't entirely clear how everything fit. I also strongly recommend a rewatch, no matter what you felt about the ending... if you need to stop it 10 minutes early, do that, but you pick up so much more the second time around.

So: Maggie and Nina. I spent most of my first watch wondering why we were bothering with them, honestly. Later in the season Nina, and then Maggie and Nina, gave Crowley some insightful advice, but their actual relationship didn't progress despite all the meddling, and the amount of emotional investment BOTH Aziraphale and Crowley had in making them get together was frankly strange.

I started thinking in terms of mirror couples, since that was such a big deal in S1 and that's clearly what they were set up to be, but I made the mistake that all of us made on first watch: that Nina was Crowley and Maggie was Aziraphale. It still wasn't really coming together.

Then I put the psych hat back on and started to think about displacement. Displacement is a defense mechanism, and it consists of satisfying an impulse (usually an unconscious one) with a substitute object. At the beginning of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't really in a good place, and I think on some level they know that. Aziraphale is trying to SHOW Crowley that he wants to take the next step through all the casual touches and phone calls and inviting him in, and feeling frustrated because Crowley doesn't seem to be taking the bait. (I absolutely think that Aziraphale tried to get Crowley to stay with him at the bookshop instead of living in his CAR, and Crowley said no. That's a whole other meta.) Meanwhile, Crowley, I think, is waiting for a Grand Gesture. Where did he go, as soon as Aziraphale brought up trying to get two humans to fall in love? Romantic tropes. Getting caught in the rain under an awning. A dramatic kiss that opens someone's eyes. That's the sort of thing he's always done, right? Big rescues, impassioned pleas on the street, fancy dinners, "give you a lift anywhere you want to go". He's defensive and guarded and unlikely to let someone in unless he's CERTAIN he won't be rejected, and Aziraphale's approaches are just too... quiet. No one's fault, they just don't speak the same language.

Then, they're handed the opportunity to make two humans fall in love, and they're both All In immediately. Look at Crowley's face when he summons the rainstorm. This is HUGE for him. Why? Because of displacement. Look at Aziraphale arranging the ball and being borderline deranged about it. They're both desperate to demonstrate what they think it takes for two people to move past their misunderstandings and fall in love. They can't do it for each other because the stakes are too high, and if either of them shows their cards unequivocally the vulnerability feels life-shattering. They're codependent and terrified of rejection and also, importantly, have no idea what they're doing when it comes to love. "Saw it in a film", Crowley says. Aziraphale's read about it in books. But they have zero practical experience.

Instead of learning to communicate, they try to say what they want to say through the medium of Maggie and Nina, up to and including the questionable moral decision to exert control over people's actions and thoughts during the ball. If I can just make this come out right, they both think, then things between us will be alright too. It HAS to come out right. They're attempting to gain some control over their own lives, over something that feels so overwhelming and shattering they can't look directly at it.

It doesn't come out right. Nina's relationship falls apart, but that doesn't mean she's in love with Maggie. While Crowley's stress-cleaning the bookshop to the music that played when Aziraphale got his books back in 1941 (just fuck me up David Arnold), they come in and tell him so. "I don't understand", says Crowley. Because it should have worked. Why didn't it work?

They tell him, of course. "You need to talk to each other. Say what you're really thinking." But here's the thing about communication: you have to learn it. You need to get the hang of expressing your feelings without blaming your partner, and separating intent from impact, and staying away from getting defensive and lashing out. No one has ever taught Aziraphale and Crowley how to do this. It's like Maggie and Nina put Crowley in front of a loom and asked him to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry. He doesn't have the skills; he's always going to get it wrong, even if he tries his hardest.

And he does try. But that's where Maggie and Nina the mirror couple, rather than Maggie and Nina the displacement relationship or Maggie and Nina the Greek chorus, come in. Aziraphale, as Nina, has just ended an incredibly toxic, invasive relationship with Heaven. A relationship that invaded every facet of his life, isolated him, and prevented him from being close to anyone else. "Rebound mess," Nina says. Aziraphale is a rebound mess. He's transferred the responsibility for his emotional wellness to Crowley. Crowley is the person he calls when he's in trouble, or (and this is key) when he wants to report a clever/ good thing he's done, or when he's bored. (At no point did Crowley reference Aziraphale calling him for a solicitous reason-- another problem.) Crowley is meant to take care of him. He forgets, I think, that Crowley is a person with his own wants and needs, just like Maggie and Nina are people with their own wants and needs who don't appreciate being messed with. (I think things would have been much different had Aziraphale BEEN THERE for Maggie and Nina's talk with Crowley, but he wasn't.)

And Maggie-as-Crowley? Lonely. Behind on rent, at risk of being evicted (it's important to note that Aziraphale saves Maggie from losing her record shop, as he couldn't save Crowley from losing his flat). Pining. Awkward. Revolving around Nina like a planet, to the extent that we don't get much of an impression of her otherwise. They realize, there at the end, that they both need to round themselves out before jumping into a relationship. Aziraphale and Crowley need that too. They need to take time apart and learn to be healthy on their own. Unfortunately they don't have the skills to get to that conclusion in a healthy way, so it all explodes in their faces and everything falls apart.

Aziraphale tries to teach Nina and Maggie to dance as a substitute for communication. Nina and Maggie try to teach Crowley communication as a substitute for the dance they've been doing around each other. That's the reason they're a part of the plot: they exist to demonstrate the way Aziraphale and Crowley might have succeeded in forging a better dynamic. Sadly, the boys' dance is too practiced and they got sucked right back into it.

It's okay, I think, that Nina and Maggie's storyline never really went anywhere. It wasn't supposed to. It's an allegory, not something that needs to stand alone.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens season 2 #gos2 #good omens season two #crowley #aziraphale #maggie #nina #defense mechanisms #the psychology of good omens #everything is meant #ineffable husbands

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months

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the croissants

buttercup, chapter one

a/n: i was actually working on something else, but then one night i got the desperate need to rewatch daredevil yet again and then this just kinda accidentally tumbled out. oopsi i guess.

summary: he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, moving, lowkey love at first sight (for reader)

word count: 2415

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“Do you wanna make the call or would you like me to do it?”

Turning to look at the robust and inked visage of your uncle, your face crinkled up slightly as you asked in a hesitant tone, “…would you mind doing it? Please?”

“Sure, hon,” Howard nodded before blinking down at his phone and dialling the number, “what kind? Margherita?”

“Yeah, and with some arugula on top, please,” you spoke as you squeezed by a tower of messy moving boxes to enter the open kitchen of your new apartment, “thank you!”

Hearing his footsteps carry him deeper into the new home, his voice soon rumbled, muffled behind your bedroom door. Opening up the cardboard box that half blocked off your empty fridge, you dug through it till you found a glass, swiftly straightening back up and filling it up with water.

“How are you doing, cupcake?” you heard the soft voice of Walter, your uncle’s husband, as you turned off the tab, “you gonna be okay tonight? Because if you don’t want to be alone, we can stay.”

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m okay,” you took a tiny sip before placing the tall glass down on the counter, “you both gotta get up early tomorrow to open the bakery anyways.”

“It’s never stopped us before. Do you remember when you were 11 and you watched that terrifying movie at some slumber party?” a smile twitched at the bald man’s lip from the memory, “I don’t think any of us slept for a whole week straight and the bakery still kept on running. If we could get through those sleepless nights of trying to convince you that our apartment wasn’t haunted, then we can get through this.”

Stepping up closer to him, you caught his hand in yours and said, “I think I’m gonna be okay, but thank you, Walter, really, for everything, for this, for letting me move back home and letting me stay there for over a year.”

“Hey,” he squeezed your palm and ushered you to meet his gaze, “you do not need to thank us for that. It’s–…” he dropped the heavy comment he nearly uttered and instead let out a low sigh, “we love you. It was the very least we could do.”

“I love you too,” you heard your voice threaten a tremble of vulnerability, “so much.”

As the bedroom door then swung back open, out stepped Howard with an exhale, “alright, the pizza is on its way. You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a nod before walking them out.

Peeking back at you over his shoulder as he swung his bright red scarf back on, Walter raised his brows tenderly, “promise that you’ll call us if anything happens, yeah?”

“Promise,” you breathed as you watched them creak open the front door and step out into the cold hallway, “love you, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, hon!” Howard waved over his shoulder at your visage in the doorway as the couple reached the stairs, “see you tomorrow! Try and get some rest, just head in whenever you get up.”

“Okay,” a soft smile warmed your features. Lately, or the past year actually, they’d let you cut down on your work quite a bit so that your hours at the bakery were significantly less and the only days you were to get up before the sun did was on weekends.

“Bye!” they both called out loudly as they disappeared from your view before your own echo rang throughout the hallway.

“Bye!”

You didn’t manage to unpack much, only half of your books, before the buzzer rang obnoxiously, causing your feet to scramble to let the delivery guy up.

Swiftly locating your backpack, you fished out your wallet just before a knock boomed at your door.

“That’ll be twenty bucks,” the pimply-faced pizza guy spoke in a monotone voice as soon as you opened up.

Catching the shadow of another figure ascend the staircase just before you began to dig through your wallet, his handsome and scruffy features were adorned with a pair of glasses that had a darkly crimson tint to them.

“Yep… uh… do you have change for a fifty?”

“Nope,” he impatiently blinked before loudly popping his bright blue bubblegum.

“Oh, alright…” you felt your palms begin to sweat, “do you mind just waiting here for a second? I might have some more cash in a jacket… somewhere…”

But just before you could duck back inside, the suit-clad man who had stopped to unlock the door directly opposite yours, whipped his own wallet out and handed off the needed bucks, “here.”

Satisfied, the pizza guy accepted the change and shoved the wide box into your arms before dashing off.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you blinked over at your generous, new neighbour, “I can pay you back–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he offered you a polite smile that sent a swarm of butterflies soaring within your belly, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in ages, “welcome to the building,” he added as he tugged his door open.

“Thanks,” you uttered, slightly windblown in your threshold as he disappeared into his apartment.

Slipping into your sneakers and hastily fastening them with sloppy bows, you slugged your jacket on and grabbed your bag. As you exited your apartment, the neighbouring door opened just as you locked up your own.

“Oh, hi!” you squeaked over your shoulder as you turned the key, “good morning!”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned to face him fully, shoving your bundle of keys into your pocket. Did he look even better than you remembered? Now no longer obscured by the terrible excuses this hallway had for lighting, the frosted window to your right illuminated every detail of him that you’d missed the first time around.

“Morning,” he replied as he too locked his door behind him.

Waiting a moment before you began to move your feet, you eyed his polished attire, “are you off to work?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fished out a folded-up cane from the inner pocket of his jacket, “you?”

“Yeah,” you sucked in a breath, “I’m Y/n, by the way, forgot to introduce myself the other night.”

“Matthew,” the bespectacled man extended his hand out for you to shake, “nice to meet you.”

After ignoring the tingle his touch sent down your spine, the two of you began to descend the stairs.

“Thanks again for what you did with the–, oh! I should pay you back!” you reached into your deep coat pocket to locate your wallet, “I’m pretty sure I have–, how much was it?”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine, really,” he politely declined.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, your brows flew up, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged as he then held the front door open for you to get out onto the street first.

“Thank you, Matthew,” you slipped out, waiting a moment before you began to head off, “have a good day!”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, flicking out his cane to its full length, just before you both began to walk in the exact same direction.

“Oh, wait,” you slowed as a giggle bubbled out of your lungs, “you’re also heading this way?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Do you–, uh… I can wait for a little bit and let you get a head start if you–”

“Or you can just walk with me, if you’d like,” he suggested with a gentle smile that made your brain forget for just a split second where your destination was in the first place, “it’s fine with me, I don’t mind the company.”

“Okay,” you agreed in a quiet voice, returning to a brisk pace beside him. You didn’t take too many strides before a casual question nervously fell from your lips, “so, have you lived here long?”

“In the apartment or Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Oh,” your heartbeat thrummed in your ears, “both, I guess.”

“I’ve been in the apartment for a while,” he told you, “but lived here in the neighbourhood pretty much all my life.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, maybe glancing over at him a bit too much for it to be safe as you walked, “that’s nice.”

“You?”

“Uhm, grew up in Brooklyn, moved here to live with my uncles when I was nine, after my parents passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” his low tone emanated an air of kinship.

“It’s alright. It was a long time ago, I was just a kid... anyways! Enough about me before I spill all of my childhood trauma to you,” you gracelessly changed the subject, “you are in a suit.”

“I–,” a faint laugh tumbled out past his lips before he joked, “I’d sure hope I am and didn’t accidentally change into something else.”

“No–, I mean, yes, obviously,” you felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, “that was just a very weird and backwards way of asking what you do for a living.”

“Ah,” his dark brows lifted in comprehension.

“Let me guess…” you fiddled with your fingers as you thought, “accountant? No… politician? No… funeral director?”

“Funeral di–,” Matthew chuckled, “no.”

“Do you work on Wall Street? Oh, please tell me you don’t because here I was just starting to think you were super cool.”

“No, I don’t work on Wall Street, but good to know that you think I’m cool,” he smirked, making you regret letting that information slip, “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” your eyes grew, “seriously?”

“Yep.”

“That’s–... that’s–… waow…” you uttered, completely dumbfounded by the imposing nature of his profession, “well, now I don’t wanna tell you what I do, because it’s so not as impressive.”

“Oh, come on,” he tilted his head, “now you have to tell me.”

“…I’m a baker,” you finally said, “actually,” stopping your stride, you briefly brushed his arm for him to do the same, “this is where I work, right here.”

“Really?”

“It’s called Buttercup Bakery,” you glanced up at the familiar storefront, “have you ever been in there?”

“No, never,” his head shook lightly as a small smile warmed up his features, “funny, my office is just a few minutes further down the street, I must have walked passed this place a thousand times but I never noticed it before.”

“Well, you know of its existence now…” you turned your head to gaze at his striking visage once more as he raised a hand to adjust his glasses, “do you wanna get a coffee or something? My treat, as thanks for the pizza.”

“I’d love to,” he sucked in a breath, “but I really have to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you nodded lightly, “well, thanks for the walk, have a great day. Hope you win a bunch of cases and–, uh… I don’t know, help make the judicial system better,” you couldn’t help but physically cringed at your clumsy words.

But your new neighbour didn’t seem to mind as he just chuckled before wandering off, “bye, Y/n.”

The small bell above the glass door to the bakery chimed softly as you pushed it open. The interior was simple, both in colour and design, but had a rustic charm to it that gave it a sense of home. Behind the counter, and the mouth-watering baked goods lined up and displayed behind the clear glass, stood Walter. Facing the long shelves adorned with various loaves, he grabbed a crusty baguette and slid it into an appropriately long brown paper bag.

Handing it off to the little old lady on the other side, he said, “here you are. That’ll be four dollars,” before she placed the money on the counter beside his half-read newspaper and strolled passed you, out of the bakery, “have a good day!”

Leaning back down to return to his paper, Walter didn’t glance up at you as he greeted, “hi, honey! You wanna hear your horoscope for today?”

Tugging down the zipper of your jacket, you joked self-reflectively as you began to shed your layers, “does it say that I’ll miraculously turn into a charming and charismatic adult instead of whatever this is?”

“…uh… no,” he furrowed his brow and finally shot you a brief glance, “it says that you're energized and creative. This new moon initiates two weeks of growing work, health and strength. Put your heart into your actions. Practice makes perfect. Oh, and it also says right here that the spelt flour bin needs refilling and that there are about a billion cardamom buns that need to be shaped.”

“Oh, it says all of that, does it now?”

Letting a tense breath go, you apprehensively let your fist meet the dark door in three shy knocks.

As soon as it swung open, the sentence, “do you like croissants?” sputtered out passed your lips.

Head reeling back slightly at the unforeseen and sudden question, Matt blinked, “what?”

“Do you like croissants?” you repeated as if it wasn’t strange to just blurt out something like that out of the blue.

“Uh,” a smile then crept up on his lips, “hello to you too, Y/n.”

“I mean, I’ve personally never met anyone who doesn’t care for them, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Sure, I like croissants.”

“Oh, great, wonderful!”

Leaning against his door, his head tilted as you failed to continue, “…did you just have a burning desire to know that fact about me?”

“Right, no, I–, uhm, there were a bunch leftover today that we didn’t sell, so purely just to not let any go to waste, I thought you’d like some,” you held up the crinkly paper bag for him to hear.

It had been a lie, but he didn’t have to know that you’d set some aside for him before they all sold out, just to have an excuse to talk to him again.

“Oh, thank you,” he held out his open palms, “that’s so nice of you.”

As you handed the bag off into his grasp, you felt as if your heart might beat straight out of your chest.

“…alright, well…” you stumbled slightly, “I should probably head off to bed. Weekends are always the busiest, so my shifts are usually really long and I have to get up like super early, so... goodnight then!”

And with that you awkwardly whirled around and scurried the short distance into your own apartment, only faintly catching his warm chuckle as you disappeared.

“Night.”

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort

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sc0tters · 6 months

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His Home | Adam Fantilli

summary: it’s Adam’s birthday and his debut in the NHL, little does he know you’re there watching

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), swearing.

word count: 3.07k

authors note: welcome back to what I like to call, kei told me not to behave (soft edition?). I’m kidding (sorta) this is a really different to what I usually write because it had a bit of angst in it? The first bit of regular italics are from the Adam birthday video that the bluejackets did and the second is a regular flashback!

It was the clip Adam loved rewatching the most.

You were sat in your dorm in his hoodie and his hat (a detail that only he would pick up on) as you smiled “hey baby!” You smiled as you looked at your phone “now I’ve tried redoing this like eight times now.” You confessed letting out a little laugh.

The picture of Adam on draft night that you had taken after you two snuck out to Dairy Queen stared back at you “I keep on crying and you really don’t need to see me get all snotty again.” You shook your head as the pile of tissues on your bed was beginning to build.

Adam couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as you nervously thought about what it was that you wanted to say “point is I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” You two started dating in October of freshman year and you swore you’d kill him before he broke up with you with before trying long distance “I miss you and I love you.” You confessed wiping your cheek as another tear fell.

As you sucked at your cheek smiling unaware that Adam was doing the same thing “you’re gonna smash it tonight, so happy birthday and play your little heart out there.”

You brought your fingers up to your lips “I’m so proud of you my star.” The video ended as your kissed fingers pressed against the camera ending the video like you did all of your FaceTime calls that you had with him.

Honestly Adam was surprised that he wasn’t sick of that video anymore with the amount of times that he had replayed it “sorry she can’t be here tonight.” Kent knew how upset Adam was that you were unable to make it to his first game.

What was the actual twist of the knife was that you hadn’t responded to anything on all platforms and went as far as to turn your locations off on everything “I just don’t remember making her mad.” Adam sighed as he frowned looking at his lock screen that was a picture of you two in front of the yost one evening.

You were in your Fantilli jersey and he had his arms wrapped around you as he kissed your head “she’s probably just stressed with that class you said she was taking.” Kent shrugged trying to keep a straight face.

The whole team had come together to plan this. The only thing that could possibly be making you stressed right now was the fact that you were trying to not get caught in Columbus.

Yes, the boys convinced you to change around some things as they felt like you being there was the birthday and debut gift that money truly couldn’t buy “I guess you’re right.”

Thankfully for you, Adam never noticed that you were there as you sat far away from his parents and family.

The game ended in a win and Adam was even able to get some points on the board so it was safe to say that you were all excited about more than just the win.

Wanting to give him some time with his family you stayed hidden for a bit mainly getting to know more of his teammates “you know he’s clueless about this right?” Kent smiled as he saw the excited look on your face.

Adam knew it probably sounded terrible but as he listened to his dad’s opinions about the game he couldn’t help it as his eyes wondered off to find you.

His brain hoped that by some divine act you were actually there.

And that was when he saw you.

Well not you, actually the top of your head “shut up!” Adam let out a gasp causing you to turn around in his direction.

Both of you had grins on your faces and tears forming in your eyes “w-what are you doing here?” He asked quickly pushing past people to making sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

As your flowery perfume pushed into his nostrils he knew that you were really there “couldn’t not be here tonight.” You mumbled holding your arms out as he pulled you into a hug.

Usually you would have groaned at how sweaty he was but today you just loved feeling him against you “happy birthday my love.” You smiled looking up at him before you placed a kiss on the hockey players lips “how long are you here for?” The hockey player wanted you there for as long as possible “fly out on Sunday my love.” So that basically meant that you had three whole days with him as well as another game to watch.

At this point the cameras had turned away wanting to give you and Adam the moment in private or at least as private as it could be for being stood out in the open “go get showered and then we can all catch up.” Julia proposed looking at her son as she wrapped her arm around you.

You had gotten to know his parents over the summer and nothing made them happier than seeing the smile on their sons face whenever he looked at you.

So you knew that you were going to sound bad when you thought about this because as fun as it was getting to catch up with Adam’s family and watch him smile as he interacted with his parents.

What you truly wanted was to be with him on the couch talking like you used to.

The Michigan air was cold around Ann Arbor but that wasn’t something you and Adam were complaining about.

No instead you two were comfortably on the couch in your dorm as your roommate was in a class “what are you thinking about?” Adam smiled as he realised that you were staring at him.

His thumb massaged your hip as his baggy basketball shorts left the area of your skin exposed “I’m gonna miss these moments with you.” You confessed as you two loved being on top of each other on the tiny two seater couch.

Before a frown could form on your lips as the thought of the draft came along Adam brought his face closer to yours “the draft is a long way away baby.” The hockey player cooed “so for now let’s enjoy this.” He added pressing his lips against yours.

So as the Uber let you two out at the door of Adam’s apartment building you couldn’t help but smile as you grew excited “are you guys sure you don’t want to come up for a bit?” Adam looked at his family members in the car as he wrapped his hand around you “you two should go have fun.” Julia clearly didn’t mean it in the way that flashed through your mind but it still made you smile as you send her a nod.

You two watched the car drive off before you turned to make your way into the building “can’t believe that you’re truly here.” Adam mumbled pressing a kiss onto your head as he took in the familiar scent of your shampoo.

His hand slid lower now resting on your ass that he gave a squeeze “Adam!”

You squealed jumping as you walked into the elevator.

That resulted in a laugh from the boy who quickly joined you before the doors shut “you can’t blame me for missing you.” His words were true as he locked his hands on either side of you “thought about you all day.” Adam confessed hovering his lips over yours.

A smile formed on your face “I did too,” as you leaned up to kiss him the doors opened causing an awkward meeting for you two with an elderly couple “I’m gonna need to you walk in front of me.” The hockey player‘s whisper sent shivers down your spine as you looked down to see that he was hard.

Trying to keep the giggle from leaving your lips you nodded adjusting yourself so that you could walk in front of Adam who now had one hand on your waist and the other carrying your bag “have a good night.” You sent the couple a smile as the boy forced you out of there as quickly as he could.

You looked to Adam with a teasing look on your face “you got a little problem?” You joked seeing that nobody was in the hallway.

Adam scoffed as he shook his head “not only is this your fault but it also isn’t little.” The boy corrected you as he stopped in front of his door “let me get your keys.” You smirked dropping your hand into his pocket.

If he could tell what you were trying to do then Adam was being a good sport for putting up with it “those aren’t my keys.” He warned as you palmed his dick between the fabric of his pocket and his boxers “I know.” You pressed a kiss against his ear before you pulled his keys out quickly unlocking the door to his apartment.

There was a spilt second before Adam practically pushed you both into the apartment “someone’s needy.” You teased watching as he dropped your bag pressing the door shut with his hand before he made a beeline for you “I know.” Adam repeated your words as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Giving you a small moment to bring your hands to his neck before he kissed you. You two finally had that moment you had longed for where he could kiss you properly.

His tongue fought with yours as there was no longer the need to behave as someone was watching “fuck,” you moaned feeling his hands cup your ass “jump baby.” Adam didn’t need to tell you for a second time as your legs locked around his waist.

The walk to his room was short, not that either of you truly would have cared because you two were just enjoying the feeling of each others lips “god I’ve missed this.” The hockey player cooed dropping your body onto his bed.

You smiled up at him as he joined you on his bed still wanting to soak in the taste of your lips.

Sure it was etched into his brain but that didn’t mean that Adam wasn’t feeling this sense of being high each time he got to feel your lips against his skin “Adam,” you whined as his hands ran over your waist.

His smile was clear as he pecked your lips one final time “I wanna taste you baby.” Adam shook his head as your hand brushed over his cock.

You tried to protest “it’s your birthday,” you pointed out as you simply wanted to make him feel good “and all I want to do is taste that pretty cunt of yours.” Adam shot back as he shifted down his bed.

Adam hooked his fingers in the waist band of your pants “you look so fucking good today.” The hockey player gushed as he was met with the sight of your lace panties “you knew you were gonna get fucked tonight didn’t you?” The Canadian smirked as he let your panties slide down your legs.

Your head bobbed as you nodded “please A,” you pleaded grabbing at his sheets as Adams breath fanned your cunt.

To say that you were soaked was an understatement as even in his dimly lit room Adam could still see the way that your pussy glistened “gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight.” The hockey players voice was shaky before his tongue ran up your slit settling on your clit.

It was like he was starving at the way he locked his hands around your thighs “shit Adam!” You cried bringing your hand down to his hair gripping onto his locks.

His eyes caught yours as you drove your hips into his face desperate to get off in that very moment.

His tongue swirled around your sensitive nub as he brought his fingers to your soaked cunt “god I’ve missed this,” the vibrations of his laugh sent shivers up your spine as your body shook.

Sure phone sex was a thing but this was a whole new level.

After weeks of not being able to get off through phone sex as your fingers and the sound of Adam’s voice could only do so much.

You were now getting exactly what you wanted “I’m gonna come,” you groaned scrunching your face as your body shook.

Adam nodded as you clenched around his fingers “let go baby.” He smiled lapping up your release as he was reminded how much he missed this.

But just like usual Adam didn’t slow down his movements as you rode his face through your orgasm “n-no A,” you shook your head trying to bring your body up and off of the bed.

His smirk was clear as he continued sucking you clit “baby,” you whined literally pulling his head up as you kissed his lips.

Tasting your release on his tongue made you squirm “you taste so sweet.” Adam groaned as your cunt rubbed against his clothed dick “baby I’m gonna come and I gotta do it in you.” He grunted as you nodded.

It took him seconds to undo his pants as you pulled his jersey over your head leaving you in your bra “god you’re gorgeous.” The hockey player smiled as he grabbed the condom from his wallet.

After you two were caught up after a big game with no condom Adam now had one that lived in his wallet for whenever you two would need it.

Before Adam could rip the wrapper open you had your hands capturing it so that you could wrap it around his cock “don’t tease me baby.” The hockey player warned bringing his hand to your head as you kitten licked the tip of his cock.

His precum oozed out of his swollen tip as you looked up at him with a smile “giving you everything you want tonight.” You mumbled pushing the condom over his cock as you kissed his lips swallowing his moan in the process.

Slowly Adam’s knees sink into the mattress as he comes down to your level “I just want you tonight.” His confession made your heart burst with love and pride “you have me Adam.” You nodded watching as he pressed his hands against your shoulders softly pushing you against the mattress.

Adam let his lips start at yours showing you an immense amount of love before he moved them to your cheek then to your jaw.

His journey slowly continued to your neck “A-Adam!” Your voice shook as your eyes screwed shut.

It made him smile as he pressed a kiss to each of your breasts “I want to take my time with you.” The hockey player cooed rubbing his fingers in your hips as he kissed your stomach “Adam please.” The desperation in your voice made him smile as he stopped.

The boy moved up to the point where his head stood just above yours “I love you baby.” Adam mumbled pressing his forehead against yours as his free hand drove his cock over your clit before he let it slide into your cunt.

You both gasped as the familiar feeling came over you both “this cunt feels like it did just back then.” Adam let out a grunt as you nodded “please move.” You begged making him smile.

He listened to you beginning to slowly bring his hips away from you before he brought them back to yours “you feel so good.” The Canadian cooed as you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist like it was on instinct.

Like usual he was always so vocal “don’t stop,” you pleaded leaning forward to kiss his lips.

Adam almost collapsed at your neediness “god you’re out of this world.” Your cunt clenched around his cock at those words.

The moment was soft, it seemed that you two weren’t interested in having hot and steamy sex tonight. Not when you had missed the simple sheer contact that you two were having now “so full.” You blurted out as you swore that his cock had grown as it hit parts of you had it had never seen.

The hockey player didn’t think that he was going to last long as you continued to drive your hips against his “I love you.” You cried as his hand found its way between your bodies landing on your clit “this cunt was made for me.” Adam groaned as you nodded “all for you.” You agreed as you kissed him.

It was needy as Adam’s thrusts grew staggered at the way you clenched around his cock “I’m not gonna last,” Adam confessed as he shook his head “me neither,” you cried as the pressure on your clit increased.

It made your eyes shut as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap “love those noises.” The hockey player felt his head drop against your shoulder.

The sound of your whimpers hit the walls making Adam sure that he was going to get an awkward knock on the door tomorrow from his neighbour “right there oh-” your voice broke as pleasure pulsed through your body.

It made you shake against him as your hands locked in his hair “so so good,” you groaned gasping for air as white specks painted the backs of your eye lids.

Adam’s orgasm came right after yours making you both sweat as you came down from your highs “you okay?” The hockey player asked as his hands brushed your hair out of your face.”

You nodded with a smile “yep.” You watched him throw the condom away in the trash can next to his bed before you made grabby hands wanting him to come back to you “I want a cuddle.” Your confession made him laugh.

Of course Adam listened as he held his hands out to you “happy birthday baby.” You mumbled as you lay your head against his chest.

The boy smiled as he ran his fingers through your hair “thanks for making my birthday one to remember.” He cooed enjoying how this felt.

With you in his arms he knew that one thing was sure.

Home for Adam wasn’t a tangible place, it wasn’t a rink or his childhood home.

His home was right here, you were his home.

#adam Fantilli smut #adam fantilli imagines #adam fantilli x reader #nhl oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year

Text

Jake Seresin And The Unfortunate Hat Situation

jake seresin x fem!reader 3k words

summary: You’re visiting Jake’s family in Texas for the first time and so far, it’s been going well. Just that Jake may have forgotten to mention the hat rule.

another cowboy fic because i fucking can

disclaimer: strong allusions to smut. im not kidding. this is basically straight up dirty talk all the way through

a/n: i’m warning you once about all the inaccuracies in here and thats it. read at your own risk. i have literally no clue whatsoever about texas and/or cowboys and did not have it in me to research cowboy history for hours on end, like- i tried, okay? i really did try. i know facts about cowboy hats now that i never felt the need to know (though “dont sleep with your cowboy hat on”, um... yeah? thanks? i totally would have done that otherwise) but i still do not have the information to back this shit up lmao

top gun masterlist

(yes i did have to use an everybody wants some gif. during the past week ive rewatched this film more times than i can count and i will take every opportunity i get to talk about it)

“Enlighten me”, you chuckled, spreading your arms, a bottle of beer in your right hand. “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats? Isn’t that kind of their thing?”

You were visiting Texas for the first time - a week off of work, away from the Navy and the Dagger Squad for a bit, to meet Jake’s friends and family back home. You’d talked to most every one of them over the phone whenever he had found the time to call, but you’d never actually met them in person before this. So it had been an adventure from the start: getting on a plane in San Diego to take you to Texas where Jake had grown up, being picked up at the airport by his mother, driving two hours to the farm they owned (”You grew up on a farm?”, you’d asked when he’d told you, wheezing at the mental image of teenage Jake herding sheep), meeting his dad, being surprised by both his sisters, getting to see his childhood bedroom.

And then, to top it off: the sound of his alarm at the crack of dawn this morning to go teach you how to ride a horse.

Needless to say that you’d been buzzing with nervous energy for the past few days. Not that you weren’t happy - it was just all a bit much at once.

After lunch he’d taken you into the city and you’d gone shopping for some real cowboy boots. He’d planned to take you to a bar in the evening, to introduce you to some friends. After all you only had a week here and neither of you felt like missing out on something.

When you’d wanted to try cowboy hats in the store too, Jake had snatched them from you and grabbed your hands, pulling you close to him, telling you that you’d get one when you’d become a real cowgirl. Since you doubted that would ever happen, you’d pouted and tried to convince him with kisses and, when that hadn’t worked, half-hearted threats, but he wouldn’t be persuaded even the slightest. He’d only looked down at you with raised eyebrows until you’d caved and satisfied yourself with cursing under your breath.

So here you were: Cowboy boots, jeans shorts and a button-up and no cowboy hat in sight.

Actually, there was one in sight. Jake was wearing his, in all his Texan glory, laughing with some of his friends at the bar. The thing was, he was the only guy wearing his hat. There were some cowboys strutting about with them on their heads, but most of them didn’t have one - hat hair, yes, but no hat. Hence your initial question: “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats?”

“Shit, Jake didn’t tell you?”, Kendra - one of Jake’s only female friends here, who’d immediately decided she liked you and pulled you to one of the tables for some girl talk - let out a laugh. “No wonder it’s still on his head. We were getting worried already.”

It was pretty clear to everyone that you weren’t from around here, so you saw no reason to hide your confusion.

“Now you’ve lost me entirely. What?”, you asked, masking your frown with a laugh. You’d been here for hardly two days and you didn’t think you’d felt as embarrassed ever before. You knew about literally nothing. At least you’d done somewhat well at horseback riding, which could’ve been because of Jake’s arms around you and his hands over yours as you - he - held the reins, but either way you were proud of yourself for not falling off and landing on your ass.

“It’s like this: Ladies didn’t wear hats for a really long time. Cowboys wore the hats. So when you saw a lady with a cowboy hat on - that was her man’s. A sign that she belonged to him. Property shit and all.” She waved it off as if dismissing the concept. “Changed over the past few decades, of course. Better that way too. Ladies can wear whatever they want now. But the thought kind of stuck. You see a guy without a hat, he’s probably taken. You see a girl with a hat, that’s probably her man’s. And before you ever steal a hat, you should know the hat rule.”

You raised your eyebrows. Your stomach did weird little flips as she talked. Jake hadn’t explained any of this to you.

“The hat rule?”, you asked. Kendra grinned and leaned in, pretending to let out some big secret.

“You wear the hat”, she said and paused for a second for dramatic effect, “You wear the cowboy.”

You breathed out.

“Oh.”

Oh my ass, you thought.

Jake hadn’t let you buy your own hat for a reason. And then he’d gone ahead and not given you that reason. What the actual fuck.

You would’ve loved to wear his hat. You would’ve loved the thought of him claiming you like that, letting you wear his hat, showing everyone that yeah, you were Jake Seresin’s girl. But no. He’d left you completely in the dark, hadn’t let a single word slip. And he was still wearing that goddamn hat himself.

Like a single fucking guy, not a man in a loving relationship.

Somehow, now that you knew, you were more annoyed by the fact that he was wearing it than that he just hadn’t told you at all. God, he could’ve left it at home. He could’ve taken it off. He could’ve just put it on your head without telling you why if he didn’t want to.

And right there, that was the part you just didn’t understand. Why hadn’t he told you? He should have known you well enough by now to realise that you would absolutely adore wearing that hat. Not only because you wanted to wear a hat (which you did) but also because you wanted to wear his hat (which you did even more). After all, it wasn’t only him claiming you - it was you claiming him as well. And as horrible as the history of that hat rule was, in this present day you felt like it would only have been fair of him to tell you. You wanted to have that chance of showing him off. Of him showing you off, which he did so happily back in San Diego.

“Hey”, Kendra said, her expression a bit more serious as she put a hand to your arm and pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m sure Jake didn’t mean to hurt you. He may seem like a bastard, but he’s actually a real sweetheart.”

You snorted at her, nodding along.

“He is”, you agreed. “Which is kind of why it hurts even more. I don’t get why he wouldn’t just tell me. It’s not like he’s ever been scared I’d say no to him or something.”

Kendra smiled and squeezed your arm reassuringly.

“Try not to worry about it too much. Just ask him when you get home later, yeah? Communication is key.” Her smile turned into a grin. She winked at you. “And hey, you can always wear my hat if you’d like.”

You forced yourself to smile as well as you took a sip of your beer. “If I actually were single, I’d definitely take you up on that offer, but I’m not, and I don’t think Jake would like it much.”

Her grin only deepened. She had dimples, you realised, and the hat on her head matched her eye colour. You were glad to have her here with you. She was someone you were sure you could become good friends with over time.

“That makes it even better”, she said conspicuously. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles over the edge of the table as she tipped her hat back. “He never told you about the hats. You don’t know anything in his eyes, honey. Use it against him.”

There was a twinkle in her gaze that told you she was looking for nothing short of mischief and you had the distinct feeling that she’d been the ‘bad influence’ on Jake in high school that he’d talked about so often. She seemed like a troublemaker. But she also seemed genuine. And she was right - in Jake’s eyes, you were getting to know one of his friends, talking about some girly stuff (which he probably assumed was himself), having a nice night. Not learning about cowboy customs that he’d just so forgotten to mention.

Jake usually didn’t get jealous. He trusted you the same way you trusted him. But he got possessive nonetheless - always with a hand on your back when you were talking to someone he thought was flirting with you, kissing you at the most inappropriate times, making sure that everyone knew you were his. Now he’d had the goddamn chance and hadn’t taken it. And you didn’t fucking know why.

But you were damn determined to find out.

Kendra slid the hat off her head and offered it to you. You took one deep breath before you reached for it.

You let your fingertips skip over the rim for a moment. Were you really about to do this? Then you put it on your head.

Alright. If Jake wasn’t going to tell you about the way this worked on his own accord, you’d make him tell you.

Kendra emptied her beer and you followed suit before the both of you got up. She grabbed both bottles in one hand, turning to you to send you another of those winks.

“I’ll bring these back to the bar and get us new ones. The dancefloor’s all yours.”

With a nervous smile, you adjusted your newly aqcuired hat and made your way onto the dancefloor. There was soft music playing in the background - country, of course, loud but not loud enough to disturb conversation. It wasn’t late enough for that just yet. Which was honestly a relief, since you had zero clue whatsoever about line dancing or whatever it was they did down here. This way there were only a few couples twirling each other back and forth and some people moving to the beat all on their own. You let out a breath and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to really feel the music: the guitar, the steady drums, the vocals.

Slowly, you started swaying - from one side to the other, turning, twirling, one step, then the next, heels here, toes there. A grin was making its way onto your face. The music grew, not as much in volume as in pace, and you didn’t know just when you had started to forget about everything except your movements (like the people watching, for example), but then the song changed and you gasped as you realised you knew it. Eyes fluttering open, hands coming together to clap, lips twisting into an actual laugh as you sang along, catching Kendra’s gaze and waving her over.

She joined you with a laugh, grabbed your hand to twirl you around, and god, her voice was heavenly. For just a split second you wondered how Jake hadn’t ended up falling for her. You certainly would have.

And speaking - more like thinking, but whatever - of the devil, you felt an all too familiar hand on your shoulder. You turned at the same time that Kendra let go of you, allowing you to admire your boyfriend in all his furious glory.

Not that he actually looked furious. Not to anyone but you, not with that facade he wore whenever anyone got under his skin. But you, well... You’d been with him long enough to understand that twitch of his jaw, that tension in his shoulders, that flicker in his eyes. And yet - the cowboy hat still sat on his head.

“I got it from here, Kendra”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, as you held your breath. She snorted, but still made to move away, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t catch. Then Jake spoke again. “Take your hat, Kendra.”

He grabbed it from where it rested on your head and threw it at her without looking away from you. She sucked in a breath.

“If you throw my hat again, I’ll kick your ass, Seresin”, she said and you could tell that even though they were friends, she wasn’t kidding. Shit, the people here were really fucking serious about their hats. Another reason why you were mad at Jake for not telling you about any of it.

“Next time, don’t set it on my girl’s head”, he growled - growled, really, you didn’t know what else to call it. She scoffed and walked off.

“How could she know I was your girl?”, you whispered, challenging him even though he already looked like you’d crossed some line that he’d drawn without telling you. “How could anyone?”

For a few moments, he kept quiet. You defiantly stared up at him. Should he think whatever he fucking wanted to, this was entirely his fault.

Then something changed in his expression.

“You found out about the hat rule”, he said, “And the first thing you did was go and put on somebody else’s.”

“Well if my boyfriend doesn’t want to have me wear his hat-”

You couldn’t react as quickly as Jake had gripped you by the waist and pulled you close to him, forcing you to tip your head back to keep looking at him. He was, in fact, so close now that you could just kiss him and honestly, you were tempted. Just as tempted as you’d been when he’d come out of the bathroom looking like that, just as tempted as you’d been when you’d left the house, just as tempted as you’d been in his truck. But you were also stubborn. And you had good reasons not to kiss him right now (even though they were getting harder and harder to remember by the second).

“Darling, I’d go wild for you with my hat on.”

You swallowed. Hard.

“So why am I not wearing it?”, you asked through gritted teeth. You couldn’t quite believe just how easily this whole situation was getting under your skin. But it seriously hurt your ego - and not just that. The fact that Jake hadn’t told you about something so important in his hometown, some, as ridiculous as it may be, piece of culture, something that would so clearly show everyone that you were dating him, really, actually, seriously dating him, stung more than you wanted to admit. It was like someone had asked him outright if he was taken and he’d said no.

“‘Cause I told you to wait”, he drawled, “Didn’t I? Wait ‘til you’re a real cowgirl.”

Curiosity and frustration were mixing in your stomach, a weird, dangerous combo. You grabbed for his collar, pulling on it just a bit too hard - nothing he couldn’t stand his ground against. You were feeling insulted by all this and you found that you should let him know.

“What’s a girl like me gotta do to become one in your eyes, hm, Hangman?”

Hangman. You only called him that when you meant business. It was like a mother using her child’s full name whenever it got in serious trouble. Jake stiffened, fingers digging into your hips so firmly that you were sure you’d be able to see the marks in the mirror later on. You’d hit a nerve. Always did when you called him by his callsign. No more Jake, no more baby, none of that.

“Behave”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, that one word carrying so much more meaning. You didn’t care. For once, you really didn’t fucking care. You wanted him riled up, wanted him furious, wanted him right at this breaking point. So you smiled.

“Like a dog?”

He’d smashed his lips on yours before you could react.

All teeth and tongue, decisive, possessive, angry. You didn’t want to give in as quickly as you did. But he hardly left you a choice - he was everywhere, arms wrapped so tightly around you, chest pressed so firmly against yours, not giving you the option to escape, to duck away, to tease him any further. So instead of doing that, instead of making him run after you more, you let him have the control. All of it. Instead of turning, instead of making him chase you, you pulled him close to you by his collar with all the force you could manage, pulled him into you, pulled him with you as you stumbled backwards from the sudden change of weight, put your entire trust in him to keep you upright. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t want to if that meant letting go.

Not with how much emotion you were putting into this fucking kiss.

Jake was the one to break away first. Pupils blown, cheeks reddened (you were sure you looked even worse), panting. You loosened your grip on his collar and ran a hand through your hair instead.

Somewhere in the back of your head, you remembered that you were still in a bar, still in the middle of the dancefloor, still under the watchful eyes of his friends. A different part was screaming at you to fuck it and fuck him right here, right now.

“Shit”, he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. His hat let a shadow fall over both your faces. “You’re gon’ be the death of me someday.”

“Hopefully not too soon”, you teased, a smile playing on your lips as he pulled back just a bit. “I still gotta find out how to become a cowgirl after all.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up as well. He raised his eyebrows, examining you for a second.

“You really wanna know, sweetheart?”

You let out a laugh. “Fuck yeah.”

He leaned in close, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, and you had to swallow. This felt intimate, somehow.

“You’re gon’ be a cowgirl once you rode your cowboy.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He pulled back with a grin. Smug, you realised. He was so fucking proud of himself for this - for having caught you off guard like that. You couldn’t let him win that easily. Not with that already inflated ego.

“All of this just to get me into your bed?”, you chuckled. “Damn, Seresin. Lotta work for no reason, hm? I’m in it at the end of every day anyway.”

He shrugged - as best as he could with his hands still on your waist.

“What can I say? I aim to please.”

You couldn’t help but grin too. The angry, sizzling tension had dissolved into something much more pleasant, much more dizzying. Something that set your skin ablaze and your mind on fire. You grabbed one of his hands from your waist and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Want to get out of here?”, you asked. He leaned in and kissed you with a smile - slow and steady and sensual, wholly different from before.

When he pulled back, you were breathless again.

“Always.”

#top gun #x reader #top gun x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #cowboy fics

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futureplayboibunnie · 7 months

Text

i rewatched the godfather and listened to the entirety of honeymoon by lana del rey so here’s another mafia Miguel O’Hara drabble

Objectively, there were so many things wrong in the lifestyle that was gifted to you, but you didn’t feel any kind of way about it. You weren’t the type to fill the silence with empty words.

In this line of business, talking could get you killed.

Your husband wasn’t a good man and he often treated you well. He was the most powerful out of all the 5 families that ruled the underworld and he so happened to have a liking to you. You did love him once, that space where your love for him filled is now blank, a white space etched with a question mark. You didn’t know how to feel about all of it since you were his best kept secret, his secret weapon.

He used you to gain intel on his enemies, being a woman was one thing but being as cunning as you was another. You’d go undercover for him, he’d create an alias, a new passport, a new birth cerificate, a new drivers liscense. Your husband was nothing but thorough. And he needed to be thorough when the O’Hara brothers showed up out of nowhere.

The O'Hara brothers were very successful hitmen, but their business ventures were quiet, they moved in brooding silence in an effort to not draw public attention. Gabriel was more about the tech and was often out of town. Miguel, on the other hand, was dark, moody, he was the brawn, the muscle, the one that had to make all the hard choices all his life.

He couldn’t make heads or tales of who they were and how they so quickly got accepted into all of this and how the 5 families didn’t notice them on their radar. You had never seen your husband this anxious when it came to them, so he needed you to scope.

You were his crown jewel, he knew you could handle yourself. So he created a new alias: you were his new suit tailor. It was supposed to be a two month operation but Miguel took longer than expected to try and get close to you. Probably because you forgot to take off your wedding ring and now you had to make that part of your story. A stupid mistake on your half and now you’re reaping the consequences.

But here you were now.

Waiting for him at dinner at the most regal restraunt you have ever been in, you felt a little intimidated that there were a few security gaurds looming over you slightly as you sat and waited. Jesus, they cleared the whole floor out just for the two of you.

This is the type of intel your husband wanted. Intimate.

Miguel saw you through the window before he walked in, there you were sitting so prettily, waiting for him. Pretty silk dress, showing off your legs with those heels that he was surprised you could even walk in.

You were married. He noticed the massive rock on your finger while you pressed down on the lapels of his suit when you first started

Miguel knew you were married and it took a lot of time to prented he cared about it, but he didn’t. Not one bit. He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

He watched as your eyes shot up to see his figure walking towards you, a twinge of nervousness struck at your chest and your fingers started twitching as you felt his gaze simmer into yours. He was wearing the all black suit you made him last week. The sight made your legs buckle but you immediately dismissed the action.

“Salir.” (Leave) Miguel waved his hand and dismissed the guards so that you could both be alone together, the thing he’s wanted to do since he first saw you but you were so…unreadable. So polite and nonchalant, it was galling.

He waited long enough for you, now he wanted to see what your mind held.

“I apologize for being late. Business as usual.” He said coolly as he pulled out his chair to sit down.

Oh? Business?

“Such as? Nothing too serious I hope.” Your replied simply, expertly not giving away that you were digging.

Miguel contemplated your purpose, you were sat there so graceful and poised, so…fucking polite. He almost hated it. “An arms deal, a few of my guns went missing.” He stated huskily, trying to get past this conversation.

You let out an appreciative hum, letting a beat of silence cover you as you retained that knowledge “My husband doesn’t like me playing with guns, we argue about it.” You find yourself explaining your real life issues before your brain could even check it. “I told him men have endless distractions…while we ladies only have shopping and tailoring.” You chuckly dryly, giving him a shy crooked half smile, playing into whatever role of femininity you needed: this time, traditionalist. You wanted to roll your eyes back into your skull. “At least it keeps me at home.”

Miguel couldn’t help but squint his eyes and keep himself locked on you. He thought you were so sweet…and definitely unhappy at home with your husband. He sat quietly for a moment, the tension already laying thick into the atmosphere.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called today.”

“Oh…my husband’s away on a trip. So his friends came over to keep me company. More like keep an eye on me. Your call was the perfect excuse to leave.” You say whistfully, not giving too much away.

Fuck, that was just your knack. You never gave anything away, you were so….puzzling. Miguel traced his fingers over his lips as his stared at you.

Hm.

“Is that right?” He muttered but it definitely wasn’t a question.

“Mhm. It’s a beautiful night tonight, I didn’t want to be surrounded by men who don’t care but a glass of wine would be nice right about now.”

You and Miguel ate and talked into the night, the soft piano playing in the background only added to the tension Miguel could barely touch his food, all he could do was stare at you across the candlelit table, urging you, contemplating you. He hadn’t wanted a woman in so long, it was like you were placed in front of him by God himself.

You sipped at your wine as a slightly concerned and defeat look spread across your face. You told him that your husband is a broker with a fraying temper and you were surprised he believed you.

“He asked me about kids. A daughter. He’d always wanted a daughter.” Although you were playing into your character, you couldn’t stop yourself from telling him the issues that were plaguing you in your real life. You disguised it well but it just fell so naturally.

Miguel frowned when he heard the mention of children.

“And?” He tilted his head urging you to continue as he took a sip of his whiskey.

“Well,” You sighed. “With all due respect, she’d be his daughter. And that affords her a certain amount of protection I don’t enjoy.” You pursed your lips as the words strained heavily, seriousness etching at your features. “He’d never hurt a hair on her head. I can’t say the same thing for myself. I won’t leave her alone in the world with him.”

Now this really was getting intimate.

Miguel felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, he really didn’t like the way you were describing the way he acts and talks to you. He would beat him bloody for the way he treats you. He shook the thought out of his head, he needed to get a grip.

“In my work, moral codes rarely exist but I have one. I don’t hurt women or children, they are absolutely off limits and my men know this and it’s one or the only rules I expect to be firmly stood by.” He said calmly, trying to calm his temper at what you just told him.

Now this is intel. The mental list was getting bigger and bigger.

You smiled shyly as you placed your elbows on the table, looking as whistful as ever. “I sometimes think I’d rather do things on my own. The things I like don’t interest him.” You hated the fact you were telling the truth.

Miguel watched you, his eyes scorching and heated yet cold and steely. A paradox of a man as he listened intently, his ears pricked up.

“What do you like?” His voice was as rich as blue velvet.

Your eyes shot up and blinked for a moment, stilling as you finally registered the words, Miguel felt you swallow thickly. “I like the movies.” You gave him a crooked smile. “He doesn’t go with me so I go by myself. He and his friends only talk business.” You chuckled lightly.

“I don’t like movies either.” Miguel replied gruffly as he downed the rest of his drink. The look on your face spread into contempt, he caught a glimpse of you under all that politeness. And then you snapped it back on like second instinct as you smiled.

“Mr O’Hara you’re too busy to go to the movies. Even this dinner took you about 3 months to schedule. Movies are for people who have far too much time on their hands.” You teased.

Damn.

Miguel just kept staring.

“No its not that….It’s too dark. I’m not a fan of too much darkness.”

Oh?

He doesn’t like the dark?

Your lips parted as a palpable silence settled between you, Miguel was eager to dismiss the situation.

“Would you like another drink?” He grabbed the wine bottle to top you up.

“To keep you company. Alcohol…” You tisked. “Such trivial things…” You muttered quitely.

“If you play close attention to it enough, nothing is too trivial.” Miguel was laser focused on you and all you could do was give him a blank and slightly rattled look.

It was making you feel….things. You can’t feel it, you’re not allowed to feel it.

Miguel watched you as you raised the glass to your lips and took a sip, his eyes travlled to the lipstick stain on the rim as you set it down.

Fuck. Blushed red, a little glossy.

You rotated your head around to still be surprised that no one was actually here.

“Cleared out huh?” You questioned knowingly.

“I value my privacy. And it’s a nice place to talk so no one disturbs us.” He replied back as sauve as ever and you hated the feeling swinging in your chest as they fell from his lips.

The gaze you shared felt like it could last a lifetime, you were both practically eyefucking each other, neither of you blinked until he spoke.

“Your husband works a great deal, eh?” Now he was the one that was prying.

“At what I have no idea. He won’t tell me. I’ve always said that having a man is fine as long as he’s far away from home, right?” You raised an eyebrow, a cunning look filled with hubris and quiet flirtation.

It was like you weren’t even trying to be this sensual.

Miguel’s lips parted as his mouth tugged upwards a little. “Your husband is a broker, yeah?” He wanted to know more about you, about your life.

“If you wanted to know more about him, I’ll bring him along next time. You men always have something to say to each other.”

Miguel hated the idea. Absolutely not. He stayed quiet

“But with women you just make small talk.” You breathed and it halted him in his tracks, the small smirk, the look in your eyes- he wanted what he couldn’t have.

The silences that surrounded you was beating with tension that you thought you once forgot.

You swallowed.

“Small talk like this to me….is a rare treat.”

The night went on. Talking. Slight flirting. An ache started to form between your legs and your cunning was also turning into a mix of that and attraction. Your fingers grazed your arm slowly, your lips were getting wettet and your eyelashes seemed to flutter as you watched Miguel talk.

“The men I work with are high ranking officials and lowlives. But they all have the same look in their eyes.”

Yes. This is exactly what you needed to hear.

“And what is that?” You reply simply.

“Fear.”

“Of course.”

“But you’re different, aren’t you? You’re not afraid.” Miguel couldn’t help but comment on you, in this business a woman as polite as you should be on the chopping block but no, there was something about you.

“How about you?” You shot back and as always you disarmed him immediately but he didn’t like to give anyone that sort of power.

No one can catch him off guard.

“You’re smart but not smart enough to know how to catch me out.” Miguel smiled wickedly as he reached for his pack of smokes and pulled out a tab.

Your lips parted as you scanned his face up and down as he put it inbetween his lips. He noticed your mindless yet intent gawk and raised his eyebrows, he took another one out and extended his arm out as his fingers brushed your skin. You stilled and blinked up at him dumbly as his thumb brushed your lips and opened your mouth wider for him to put the cigarette.

His touch was like liquid fire.

You finally caught it and then he took his lighter and lit his and yours up, watching the way your lipstick stained the butt. When you fingers held it, he caught a full view of your wedding ring, it was massive diamond rock held together by golden pearls. His face grew embittered by the sight, his frustration fanned into anger and now his sentiments remained the same.

He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

729 notes · View notes

1nephthys · 9 months

Note

Okay, First, I love your writing. Second, could you please make and imagine base on grey's anatomy? Like, I'm rewatching grey's anatomy, you know when Derek loses that pregnant patient, and then he goes into exile in the forest, and when Meredith goes to the forest saying that she knows about the wedding ring and she wants it, and then he throws the ring in the woods, and afterwards he laments that he lost her. I love that scene, I need an angst similar to this for Charles, I don't know, it might be inspired by last year when he flies to Monaco and binotto had to pick him up. With fluff in the end pleaaaaaase

The ring.

Thank you so so much, also thank you for the request! It took a second and I changed it a little bit but I hope you still enjoy it!!

Part 2!!:)

Word count:~4.9k

Warning: my English and as requested - angst; little, tiny suggestion of smut.

Four years ago.

Charles' mom stood up with a smile on her face announcing that it was time for her to do the dishes. She prepared the biggest dinner she ever had done before when her son finally decided that he want to introduce his girlfriend he was talking about for so long. She had always seen those sparks in his eyes when he was bragging about her.

"Let me help you." Y/n stopped herself from adding "Mrs. Leclerc" as the older woman told her not to do it because she felt old.

She also stood up but Pascale touched her arm and said "You stay there sweetheart, you are our guest tonight" She said to the girl with warm tone "Charles will help me." She looked at her son right beside y/n and he stood up and pick up both of their plates without any protest.

Y/n got herself in conversation with his brother, Lorenzo about something while her boyfriend was washing the plates in his mom's kitchen. "And? What do you think about her, mama?" He asked quietly, afraid that his girlfriend might hear from the other room.

"I don't know. I just met her but she seems really lovely. And with the way you look at each other, I feel like I will have to like her" She answered his son and it made him so happy. He might had a few girlfriends before and he always asked his mom for her opinion about them but never once her answer was this satisfying.

"I think I'm going to give her the ring dad gave me." He told her. They were dating only for a few months so his mom was actually terrified, even though her son looked like he was really in love. The ring he was talking about was really important to Charles because his father brought it for when his boys find the right girl. He noticed every thought on his mother's face, so he added quickly "Relax. I'm not planning to propose now... But when it's the right time, I really love her mama. I just feel it's her"

His mother could just smile at his statement because she - as well - felt like this is the one for her son.

---

Back to the present.

"...and Charles Leclerc finish his home grand-prix right behind the podium, at 4th place!" Everybody could hear through the speakers. Everybody in the Ferrari garage cheered, not for Charles but for Carlos who manage to finish second in this race. Y/n on the other hand knew, that her boyfriend wanted more. She was there before race, when all he could talk about finally starting from the pole position and having the win within his reach but his team failed him.

He got out of the car, mad to the point that he didn't even want to scream and yell at anyone, just stay quiet. He didn't even go for a hug with y/n like he ALWAYS does after race. He just wanted to finish his interviews and go home.

And that was exactly what he did. He told the interviewer about his disappointment, trying to control himself with the rest of the faith he had in his team.

He took a quick shower as y/n waited in his driver' room. The drive home was quiet. Y/n didn't forget to congratulate her boyfriend but when all she got in response was quiet "thanks" and glossy eyes she knew that he didn't really want to speak now. She decided to wait 'till he was ready to talk to her.

"I'm going to take a shower again" Charles said. Both of them knew that this shower was just an excuse to spend time alone and cool down. Before he had gone to the bathroom, he checked his phone, which was on the dnd since his warm-up back before the race.

Hey mate, congrats on P4!

We have to celebrate!

There's an afterparty in *name of the club* you have to come with y/n!

He read all three messages from his best friend, Pierre and he really, really wanted to throw his phone out of the window at the first one.

"Pierre asks if we want to go to the afterparty" Charles asked y/n looking at her with his phone in his hands.

"We can, only if you want" She answered, still worried about her boyfriend mood.

"I will tell him we will be there." He said while putting his phone down and heading straight to the bathroom, before y/n had any chance to say something.

She decided it was best if she also took a quick shower in the guest bathroom of their house and started getting ready. She put on some makeup and a comfortable, yet pretty outfit and she was ready to leave. She was ready but the shower was taking Charles longer time than usual so she decided to knock gently on the door.

"Charles, sweetheart? It's already 8 p.m. Just letting you know" She said through the dark wood. What she did not expect was her lover opening the door with an angry face.

"Jesus, will you at least let me shower in peace? Or I can't do that too?" He asked her angrily, passing her on his way to the bedroom to put on some clothes and leave. She didn't even answer him because he didn't give her time for that and she wouldn't had know what to say anyways. "We can go" He told her, grabbing his keys and walking to the car, without turning around.

She let out a long breath and stopped herself from saying anything, as she knew it was already a rough day for him. Even though his cold tone hurt her a bit. She already knew that she wasn't drinking tonight because he was going to get wasted. She closed their apartment and sit in the passenger seat.

Charles got to the club pretty fast but all the drivers were already there most of them on their third drink. As always, he passed his car keys to y/n and she put them in her purse. They entered the club and Charles went straight to buy drinks.

"I'm not going to drink tonight. You feel free though. I will be with the girls." She told him. She for sure will keep an eye on him but she had mixed feelings and was afraid of him attacking her again. So, she kissed his cheek and was off towards Lily and Kika that were dancing together on the dancefloor.

She greeted both of them and she was glad that it was just like every time they were at a party because she really didn't feel like explaining that her boyfriend was mad at her for a bad race result.

It was already some time at the party and Y/n's mood was actually better now, she had a great time with the girls. Charles also seemed like he was having fun, he definitely did not want to save any money on drinks.

It was around 1 a.m. that y/n noticed that he was leaving the club so she quickly grabbed her purse and said her goodbyes to go after him.

"Charles! Charles!" She yelled after him as he was walking in the opposite direction of their house and totally ignored her. "Charles, wait! I can't catch up!" She yelled which made him stop in his track.

"Maybe I want you to not catch up, huh? I just want you all to leave me fucking alone! Today was shit and I don't really need more of your shit on top of it!" He yelled back.

"Charles, you are drunk, let me take you home, and then you can be alone all you want. Please, c'mon." She said quietly. She was actually glad that he tried to run away from her because at least they were far enough from the club that people outside can't hear them over loud music. Now he might not care about it but he would when he sober up and read headlines and messages from his PR management.

"No. I'm not going with you anywhere. You can go back to having fun with the girls" He said with a mocking tone. He never seemed to mind her dancing with others when they were at the party together so she was surprised at this. "At least you will leave fucking alone. You know what all of this go fucking nowhere. I thought you would be there for me but I feel like I can't count on you, too" He said.

Oh.

"Charles, you can always count on me, I'm here whenever you want to talk to me. I thought that wasn't what you want. And I'm so, so sorry for misunderstanding you. Please, let's go home and talk." She tried again. She actually felt like shit but there wasn't much she could do now, when he was this drunk.

"No. I'm not going anywhere with you." He said and reached into his pocket taking out a beautiful ring, the one his dad gave him. "You know what, I was so fucking sure you were the one to get it..." She knew it, she knew it for years, she just waited. "But fuck this stupid ring, because I can't imagine someone else wearing it and for sure not you now." He finished his sentence by throwing the ring in whatever direction.

Both of their eyes were on it for a second but they both lost it before it hit the ground. She stood there. Stunned by his words and stunned by him throwing the ring that was so important to him.

"Go away." He added, as if what he just did and said wasn't enough. She didn't know what to say or do. So she did actually turn around and started walking in the opposite direction, to their shared apartment, holding her tears for dear life.

The walk home took her longer than usual, on her way she was repeating everything in her head. When she looked through her small purse she noticed his car keys which suddenly made her feel guilty, she just hoped that someone would help Charles get home safe, even after he hurt her.

What she didn't know, was that Pierre was already there. He also was bloody worried about Charles, so he get out of the club not far behind her. When he noticed she started walking in her direction and Charles in totally opposite, right after he threw away the ring he told him so much about, he knew he needed to run after his best friend. He had a few drinks too, but he definitely felt better now.

"Charles!" He yelled. And this time, Charles actually stopped and break out in tears.

"I lost her mate, I'm so fucking stupid" He put his palms on his eyes, to stop the tears from running down his face but there was no use in it. "And I lost it too!"

"Charles, you know she won't give up that easily. And you still have a chance in the championship. You did not lose it yet." Pierre tried to cheer up his friend, he put his hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not talking about championship, mate. The ring. Why did I even do it? I will never fucking find it, I was just so angry and-" His cries were getting worst and worst so Pierre decided to call for a taxi before somebody take a picture that would be all over internet by tomorrow morning.

'Charles Leclerc crying outside the club! There's no more alcohol for him!'

'Charles Leclerc lost the chance for the championship and his long-term girlfriend in one day! That man must had f**k up in his previous life'

Yeah, that was not something he should be dealing with in one week.

He texted Kika too, explained the whole situation, and told her she could stay and he would ask Alex and Lily to get her home later but she said she want to go home too.

All three of them get into a taxi, Charles still sobbing, now also telling the couple about all his happy moments with his love. "I told her I can't count on her. While all I fucking did this whole day was throw mean comments at her. Or comment. I didn't talk to her the whole day. And she still tried to get me home. Because she was worried about me. I'm the worst boyfriend ever. Now probably ex-boyfriend actually. I lost the girl of my dreams mate, I waited so long to ask her to marry me and now I fuck all of this up. Four years mate, four years. And I never once regretted any second of it. But now she probably thinks I am." The car stopped. "I will never forgive myself, so how can she forgive me?"

"We are here." The taxi driver said.

Pierre and Kika thanked the heavens for that, because the drive never felt this long. Pierre paid the driver, with an apologizing, small smile hoping that the old man will not told the media about what just happened in his car.

Both he and Kika get him to the lift and then to their apartment and laid him on the bed in their guest bedroom.

"No, mate. I have to go to y/n. I have to apologize. And I have to find her ring before someone else does it." Charles argue but he gave up quickly when Pierre hold his shoulders down with Kika and that was enough for Charles to not be able to stand up.

"You will do that tomorrow, mate. It will be better if you catch some sleep now." Pierre said but Charles already had his eyes closed. He looked at Kika with understanding eyes and she returned the look. They both quietly exited the room to get to sleep themselves.

---

First thing Charles felt the next morning was his head. The pain was terrible, but as he looked around and noticed he isn't in his bedroom with his sweet girlfriend, he remembered the events of last night, and suddenly the headache wasn't so bad.

He want to the kitchen, where Pierre was already standing looking for something in the fridge. He turned around when he heard footsteps.

"Charles." He looked at his best friend. He didn't look any better than last night. His eyes were red and puffy his shirt was stained, probably with alcohol. "You should take a shower."

"Did you hear from y/n?" He asked straight away. He might be hella drunk, but he wasn't the type to forget the whole night because of it.

"Go take a shower first. We will eat breakfast and I will drive you home." Pierre told his best friend. He actually did hear from y/n last night, way later than both of them left the club she texted him, asking if he knew if Charles was okay. The next thing she asked after she was told that Charles was with her was not to tell him that she asked. And Pierre was actually on her side in this.

Charles had enough of arguments, so he did as his best friend said and closed himself behind the door. He noticed a clean set of clothes on the counter and he knew it was meant for him to borrow.

After his quick shower, he put on Pierre's shirt and pants and left the bathroom to join his best friend and Kika at the table. He sat at the chair that had a plate ready in front and he noticed the small piece of metal right next to it.

His eyes instantly became teary as he grabbed it with his right hand. "But- how?" that was all he managed to get out of his mouth as he lifted his gaze from the ring to his best friend's face.

"Yesterday after we left I told some guys about the ring. We left and they were looking for it. Carlos bring it earlier this morning. He said it took them over an hour to find it but at least it is here." Pierre explained.

He couldn't even explain in words how grateful he was for his friends, he made a mental note to thank his teammate and friend for it.

"I- I don't know what to say. Thank you, Pierre. Thank you, guys." He looked at Kika, too. "It would be even worst without you"

"I accept thanks in the form of wedding invitations." Pierre commented which got him a kick under the table from Kika. Was it too soon for that kind of joke? "Sorry, but you really have to apologize to her, mate. What you did yesterday was shitty."

"Okay, less talking, more eating. The faster you eat, the faster you will get to explain yourself." Kika reminded both of them. That left them without any comment as they both looked at each other, Pierre with a little smirk while Charles - still not in the mood for jokes.

"I think I will take a taxi" Charles said after they ate. Pierre just nodded his head, as much as he wanted to hear his best friend and his other half makeup, he knew that it should be done just between them.

Charles grabbed the ring, put it in his pocket, and left the apartment when he read the text that the taxi was already there. He felt like the drive took hours, when in fact it was only ten minutes. But it was enough time to overthink what was waiting for him at home. He even considered that all of his things were already packed and waiting for him at the door.

He, finally, got out of the car and made his way towards the lift to get to their apartment. He didn't even have his keys so he really hoped she would open the door for him.

It took him one knock at the piece of wood and only a few seconds for her to open it. As if she was already waiting for him.

"Charles." She said quietly, trying to control her voice so bad so it won't break, like she had any chance fighting the tears in her eyes.

"Y/n," He said, not doing any better. He considered so many options what would happen when he get there, yet he had no idea what to say now, that she actually opened the door. "Can I come in?" He asked her, realizing they still standing in the hall.

"It's your house as well" She answered and moved a little aside.

They both walked to the living room and Charles looked around. Their pictures together were still all around. Not a single one was moved. As if nothing had happened, as if he didn't throw away her propose ring right in front of her before she even get it.

"Y/n I- I don't know what I was thinking. I want to say sorry to you, but that's not enough for what I did. Never ever did I want you to leave me alone, I was frustrated by the race and the team but I had no rights to take it out on you. I'm sorry for blaming you for not being there when actually I'm the one that can't communicate. I know I can count on you and you can count on me, I will spend my whole lifetime proofing that to you if it is what it takes for you to forgive me." They both had tears streaming down their faces but that didn't matter now as Charles grabbed both Y/n's hands and squeezed them to tell her that what he was saying was meant from deep of his heart. "I'm not sure if you can do that but if you are, please take all the time that you need. I just really need you to know that I would go with you anywhere, just tell me where and I promise you I will be right by your side."

"Charles, I can't tell you that I'm alright- that we're alright because I am hurt" She said which had him in another wave of tears "But I will not throw away all those years together. But I really need time."

"Cherie, please take as much time as you need, just never leave me, please." Charles begged her but she didn't trust her voice enough this time, so all she did was pull him close for a hug.

So Charles was willing to give her time. As much as she needed. Even when the ring in his pocket were more and more heavy.

---

One year later, Monaco Grand-Prix.

"And finally, after many years Charles Leclerc finish his home grand-prix first! Ladies and gentlemen, Charles Leclerc is the winner of this year's Monaco grand-prix!" The commentator's voice could be heard anywhere.

Y/n hugged Arthur, her boyfriend's brother who was standing right beside her in euphoria. Everyone around them was screaming, throwing their hands in the air and clapping for her boyfriend. He got out of the car and run to her first like he always did. She hugged him so tight and he returned it.

"I'm so, so proud of you! You are the winner!" She screamed and his smile grew even bigger now if it was even possible. She kissed his helmet, in the place where his lips should be right before the couple was torn apart when Charles was pulled for other hugs and then interviews.

He returned to y/n as soon as he could and before he hoped to take a shower he told her "I'm glad you're here with me, I wouldn't have done it without you."

"You are an amazing driver, you are driving this car, not me." She answered. It's safe to say that their relationship had never been this good before.

"Take a shower with me?" He asked with a little smirk as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hers went around his torso in a matter of seconds.

And how she could say no when he was standing in front of her with his little smirk, fireproofs and his race suit hanging low on his hips?

She kissed his lips and they made their way to the shower and what happened there, was a whole different story.

---

Everything will be ready at 8 p.m.

You better not chicken out this time.

Charles read two messages from his best friend answering quickly.

I didn't chicken out, I just wanted it to be more special and keep it a surprise.

"Pierre asks if we want to go to the afterparty" Charles asked as he was sitting at the kitchen table, watching y/n making some food for both of them.

"We can, only if you want" She answered him, quickly returning to cutting vegetables.

"He said that this will be smaller, on a yacht so we can celebrate P1 with closest ones, not whole club" Charles explained, hoping he didn't sound susceptions.

"Yeah okay, dinner will be ready in 10, then we can start getting ready, okay?" She asked.

"Yeah. I love you." Charles said casually, with his heart-shaped eyes which sent off millions of butterflies in y/n stomach. She answered him with the same.

---

All dressed up Y/n and Charles finally get on the yacht, that seemed to be totally empty, no party in sign.

"Are we first? That unusual." Y/n commented as it usually them both to make an appearance when everybody is already drunk.

"Yeah, c'mon" Charles answered all uptight as he took a few steps and hopped on the yacht. He held his hand out for y/n to grab it and step there too.

It was already past 8 p.m. so it was quite surprising that no one was there, but what was even more surprising what that the lights were turned on. Turned her back to Charles to look if somebody was coming from port but when she didn't see anyone, she turned back around.

Only to be met with Charles on one knee.

No fucking way.

"Y/n, you've been there for me for the past five years. And for all those five years, I knew I wanted to marry you one day. I knew it damn well when I almost ruined our relationship a year ago. You took me back and I promised you to give you time. And I'm still willing to give it to you. I want to give you all the time I have. I want to give and share with you every second of my life for the rest of it. I want to be anywhere you are. I want to be able to count on you and make sure you can count on me. Y/n, my cherie, my best friend, my partner in crime, will you marry me?" He may or may not have tears in his eyes, his hands may or may not be shaking as he anxiously waited for an answer.

"Charles- I- of course, I will marry you!" She answered, fighting with the tears in her eyes. She went for a hug as well, noticing how beautiful the ring he was now putting on her finger. "It's perfect" She said, kissing his lips.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how glad I'm you like it." Charles answered her after their kiss. It wasn't really needed because all he had to say was already in this kiss.

"Time to drink for our soon-to-be bride and groom!!!" Pierre yelled getting out of his hidden spot in the cabin. After he went Arthur, their mum, and actually too many people looking at how small this cabin was. Charles and y/n were too busy to think how all of them squeezed in here but surely five more minutes and they all would pass out due to lack of oxygen.

"Congratulations sweethearts! I knew since Charles introduced you to us that one day you were going to be Leclerc." Pascale said, as she was the first one to come to them when the music started playing.

"Congrats, mate!" Pierre hugged Charles while Kika by is side hugged y/n.

"I hope I will be your bridesmaid! I promise I will organize you the best bachelorette party ever!" Kika said to y/n which had her giggling. She just got proposed to and now she already had to think about bridesmaids!

"Hey, if she's bridesmaid I have to be best man!" Pierre answered.

"Ey, ey, not that fast amigo!" Carlos appeared out of nowhere behind Pierre, putting his hand on French driver shoulder "He said I will be best man after I found the ring last year! You didn't forget right?" Carlos asked.

"What?! You told him he can be best man? C'mon..." Two drivers started arguing over who was going to be best man at the weeding while Charles attention catch y/n voice.

"Wait, so this is actually the ring, like the one from your dad? I thought it was lost" His now fiancée asked.

"Yeah, it is. But wait, how do you know that my dad got it with me? I wanted to tell you that later tonight" Charles asked shocked, maybe he wasn't good at keeping secrets, especially not from her, but he would remember if he slipped this.

"Uhh.. that actually might be my fault." If it wasn't enough people appearing out of nowhere that night, Arthur was now standing right next to Charles with guilt in his eyes.

"What?" He asked his brother what did he mean it's his fault.

"Five years ago. You were helping mom in the kitchen after you introduced y/n to us. She was talking with Lorenzo so I decided to help too but I overheard you talking about the ring so I came back" He explained.

"Okay, but that still..." Charles tried to say that did not told him anything, but Arthur started talking again.

"Your secret was safe with me, I swear. For a whole ass year, I kept my mouth shut but then there was that party. I drunk a bit and she just-"

"Hey, don't put it on me!" Y/n laughed, as much as she liked Arthur alive, she wanted to hear really story.

"Okay, I came up to her and told her that I can't wait for her to be Leclerc and for you to give her the ring you choose with dad. I told her it was meaningful and everything. I'm sorry" Arthur got to the end of the story and looked up at his brother.

"So you telling me, I kept my mouth shut, bite my tongue like hundred times but all this time you knew about it? Unbelievable!" Charles said with a look of betrayal on his face. "And you, you little shit? You couldn't tell me sooner? Like every time I was panicking that I almost spilled the surprise?!" He asked his brother this time.

"I said I'm sorry!" Arthur argue back.

"Kids, please calm down. It's time to celebrate. My son is a double winner tonight!" Pascale said. And Charles couldn't agree more. Even though for a second he had forgotten that he actually won the race today, because now he had much more important win.

"You are right, Mrs. Leclerc! It's time to drink for them!" Max yelled, with a beer in his hand.

It definitely wasn't his first tonight.

a/n. It took me a second to write and it was also longer than I expected but I still hope you enjoy it! Especially the person who requested it because it was fun to write! I changed a few things but defo strong inspo from this grey's anatomy ep. Love you:))

#charles leclerc x f!reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst

841 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 5 months

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)

summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner

author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen.

The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.

It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s.

A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.

But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together.

And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.

When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.

And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.

Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening.

“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”

“Shit.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.”

You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago.

An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.

“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table.

He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was.

It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.

“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.

“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.

A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.

“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”

You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.”

“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”

You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”

Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”

You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.

“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.

She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”

You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.

It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment.

You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all.

You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.

Of course, you didn’t say that, though.

Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said.

You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face.

“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.

“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”

“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered.

“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”

You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.”

You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs.

In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.

“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”

You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable.

“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night.

You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight.

The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food.

You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking.

“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”

Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”

“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”

“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”

“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well.

You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time.

“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”

A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”

You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.

“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”

“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”

He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”

“Robin helped me with it.”

“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this.

The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did.

Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents.

But now things were finally different.

“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”

You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Me too,” You said softly.

“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”

You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”

“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”

You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”

“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”

You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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flynnriderishot · 2 months

Note

PLEASE write a pt. 2 to the fic abt reader being a bet and finding out, while Chris acc fell for them

because of a lie pt.2 - c.s

a/n: i want to point out that any words that are italicized, at the end of the word or full word, is reader or chris’ voice breaking/cracking as they are on the verge of tears !

you laid on your bed, eyes focusing the ceiling as you ignored the constant vibrating that came from your phone.

you knew it was chris’ brothers trying to reach out to you. it couldn’t have been the man himself, you blocked him on everything after you rewatched the video at least ten more times.

yes, you were sad. you wanted to know his reasoning behind using you to get three hundred dollars that would no doubt be gone within a week. but you refused to see him, or even hear his voice after he broke your heart.

to you, it made no sense.

was he that incapable of truly liking someone that he needed money to even get through the talking stage?

did his talks about how he felt like no one aside from you understood him mean nothing?

you wanted to believe it was bullshit, but it made sense. you saw the way he couldn’t properly commit to people, he even admitted it himself.

what were the odds he actually liked you? very low apparently.

you were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on your door.

letting out a groan, you pushed yourself up slowly.

you hoped whoever was at your door had enough patience as you were definitely taking your time to get there, though once you did, you wished you hadn’t.

you instantly tried closing the door upon seeing who was standing there.

“woah, hang on, please.”

“go away!” you demanded, tears filling your vision as you put your shoulder against the wood in hopes of pushing him out the apartment.

“baby, please—“

“don’t call me that!” despite the yelling and the urgent need to get him out of your sight, you were growing tired and knew your strength was no match with his, so you let go. “don’t you dare walk in here. i don’t even want to see you.”

he huffed, being respectful of your wishes and not walking inside, “just let me explain myself. please.”

the cracking in his voice gave away his desperation to talk to you.

but you weren’t having it.

“i was a bet.”

“yn—“

“a bet, chris. three hundred dollars to make me fall in love with you. what is there to explain?!”

he could only sigh. there truly was no arguing.

you weren’t wrong.

that’s how it started as- a bet. but chris loves you, he truly does. so seeing you break down, because of him nonetheless, crushed his heart into a million peaces.

“you know what? go ahead. go ahead and explain to me what the hell possessed you into taking on this stupid ass bet that you knew would end with me being heart broken.”

“it was an accident- it was a mistake. i wasn’t thinking, i was being stupid—“

“clearly.” you scoffed, eyeing the way his feet struggled to keep himself at a distance.

“i’m sorry.” he took a small stepped forward, “i’m so sorry. i didn’t think the video would get out—“

“what?!”

“not in that way. just- yeah, it was a bet. it started off as a bet and i’m so sorry for going along with it, but i was dumb and i wanted to look cool around my friends so i agreed to it, okay? i’m sorry.”

you were filled with tears as you listened to him speak. you didn’t want to give him the chance to possibly get back in your head after breaking your heart not even five minutes ago but you want to know why.

“i don’t regret it.”

if your face could fall any more, it’d be on the ground, “excuse me.”

“no, no! not like that. i mean- yes, i regret it but i don’t because if i hadn’t been an idiot then i wouldn’t have realized how in love with you i am.”

the silence was deafening.

so quiet that you could hear matt’s car engine running across the street.

no matter how many times you’d both showed it, chris could never find it in himself to admit that he loved you.

he practically refused to do it. not because he didn’t, but because he was scared.

and here he was, pouring his heart out onto your doorstep in hopes that you would forgive him for his careless actions.

he stepped into the small home, his soft hands reaching to grab onto your forearms,

“please. i know i don’t deserve it, but i love you. i love you so much it hurts. i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. just give a chance. please.”

you were an idiot.

you knew you were an idiot. you were a firm believer in once a cheater, always a cheater. now, did chris cheat? no, but he didn’t make you look like an absolutely fool.

a fool that fell in love.

and as a sigh left your lips, you knew that you would end up forgiving him.

and no matter how long it took, chris would be there working his ass off to prove himself.

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson

tags for this fic: @st4rswrld @tubl-mc @lily-strnlo

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo

154 notes · View notes

themysteriousashe · 11 months

Text

your dirty little mind || cs55 and cl16

notes: this is my first threesome smut, and it is grammarly edited, so wording and/or flow might be weird. i was inspired by all the sweaty videos and pics of the two ferrari boys from the charity game on tuesday. additionally, i listened to charles jeffrey by ray laurel on repeat to write this.

warnings: smut, threesome, p in v sex, oral sex (male and female receiving) anal sex, penetrative sex, minors dni, 18+ only, grammarly edited

word count: 4.2k (just under, but rounded up)

The game was intense. First, Charles ate shit to try to make a goal, and Carlos was injured. The whole football match had you gnawing your bottom lip in nerves but also in anticipation. Watching the two men play and gradually become drenched in sweat did something to you. Maybe that something was remembering the nights the three of you spent together, bodies moving passionately and sweat glistening on various shades of skin. Your hands gripped the fabric of your linen pants, one foot tapping to release the energy building in your system.

The weather wasn’t hot, sitting at a pleasant 72 degrees Fahrenheit, but your body grew worked up during the match from anxiety and being turned on. You would curse mentally whenever you saw the boys wipe their faces with their shirts, revealing the chiseled abdomen hiding underneath. Carlos’s boxers peeking out from his shorts almost ruined you, your mind flickering to a time you took them off of him. They would catch your eye occasionally, shooting a smile your way. Each time, your cheeks heated up, and you shifted in your seat to get more comfortable.

As soon as the match ended, you followed the crowd filtering out of the game. As you patiently waited, your phone buzzed in your bag; the bag was close enough to your body that you felt your phone go off, and you immediately reached in, curious about who could have texted you. The message was from Charles, surprising you at how fast he could return to the locker room.

You smiled to yourself, knowing you were egging Charles on. You tucked your phone away, descending the steps to the line of cars waiting for people. You walked the line of vehicles, avoiding people standing on the sidewalk. Carlos demanded you have a driver since you were in Monaco, the city of luxury and allure. It was a fight you would never win, despite telling him how many times you didn’t need one. Charles hopped in, taking Carlos’s side. His selling point was the two couldn’t be seen with you before the race events; it needed to be after.

You begrudgingly accepted his reasoning, agreeing to the driver on the condition you wanted a ride in Charles’s Ferrari; once it was acceptable, you could be seen together without speculation arising on the internet. The driver was an older gentleman standing outside a black car with tinted windows. You greeted him, giving him Charles’s address. It was an apartment you visited what felt like a million times; it wasn’t foreign to you and was a familiar hook-up spot for the three of you if you all happened to be near. You got into the car, the driver closing the door behind you, and buckled up for the driver.

The ride to the apartment was quiet. To keep yourself occupied and at ease, despite your heart hammering in your chest at what was to come, you scrolled your phone, already seeing photos of Charles and Carlos in the match. You bit your lip, shamelessly rewatching the clips of Charles lifting his shirt and wiping his face with the jersey. When you were about to close Instagram, you were greeted by a post to Charles’s story. You tapped on it, a snort leaving your nose in amusement. You typed a quick message to him, saying, “Me fr,” knowing he’d get a kick out of it.

You loved how Charles could joke about his mistakes and watch the fans’ reactions. Watching the internet speculate about his personality filled you with pride because the both of you frequently sent each other stupid shit daily. So the internet wasn’t wrong when they claimed Charles was a meme lord.

The car pulled to the apartment, and you thanked the driver, undoing your seatbelt. You assured him he didn’t need to exit the vehicle, stating you could open the door yourself. He smiled at you in the rearview, and you returned the smile as you opened the car door. You stepped out, gazing up at the looming apartment building before you. Your lips quirked up in a smile as you pushed the door closed, stepping forward towards the entrance.

You typed in the code to his apartment as you had done many times before, a buzz and the click of the door unlocking signaling your access. You carefully opened the door, sliding through as thin of a crack as you could. You greeted the security with a nod and a smile, receiving one in return as you headed towards the elevator. You clicked the up arrow, pulled out your phone, and checked your notifications while waiting for it to come down. Once the doors opened, revealing an empty car, you stepped in and pressed the button to Charles’s floor, immediately pressing the button to close the doors quicker.

The elevator ascended, your heart pounding as to what was to come. Your phone was tucked in your bag, your eyes intently watching the numbers tick until a ding announced your arrival. The doors opened, and you stepped out, walking to Charles’s door. You knew it would be unlocked since the boys didn’t want you to mess with a key and prolong the fun. You opened the door, walked in, and closed it behind you. As soon as the door closed, a figure appeared before you and immediately smashed his lips on yours. His hands made their way to your body, gripping your waist while the other grabbed your back.

Immediately, your body reacted to the action, your arm falling and your hand tucking your bag off, letting it fall to the floor. You returned the kiss with the same fervor, hands flying into the dark strands. By feeling alone, you could tell it was Carlos, as he was a little bulkier than Charles. His tongue immediately parted your lips, and you moaned, letting him explore your mouth and teasing him with your tongue. He pressed you against the door, the hand on your back falling to your rear. He gripped your ass, pulling your flesh against his body. You could feel the slight presence of an erection pressing against your thigh through his jeans.

“Starting the fun without me?” Charles asked, leaning in his bedroom doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. You pulled away from Carlos, soft pants leaving both of you. His pupils were blown wide, pushing the beautiful brown to the edges. You looked over at Charles, smirking as you pulled away from Carlos. You began to head towards him, a pat on your bum from Carlos causing a jump in your step.

“Carlos was just saying hello, Leclerc. I do enjoy his greetings,” you teased, gently pushing Charles in the middle of his chest as you entered the bedroom. He chuckled, following Carlos in. You turned in the center of the room, the darkness from the large windows penetrated by the soft lighting of bedside lamps.

“Now you have me here,” you said, sticking your arms and hands out to the side of you before they dropped back down.

“Now you’re here,” Carlos responded, his eyes scanning you up and down. A flirty smirk was on his lips, and you smiled. Charles stepped forward, reaching out and taking one of your hands in his, tugging you into him.

“I think it’s my turn, mon chérie,” Charles purred, leaning down so his nose brushed against yours. You looked up at him through your lashes, lips parted and breath speeding up.

“Now it’s your turn,” you whispered, reaching up to clutch the opened button-up and t-shirt combination that Charles frequently wore. He leaned down and kissed you, not as rough as Carlos’s kiss. That was the difference between them: Carlos loved to devour, and Charles liked to savor. As Charles and you kissed, Carlos stepped forward, stepping behind you. He set a hand on your hip, using the other to move your hair to the other side. He began to leave kisses on your neck, starting below your ear.

You gently moaned into the kiss, tightening and untightening your grip on Charles’s button-up as Carlos kissed your neck and Charles’s licked your bottom lip, asking for entry to your mouth. You happily let him in, his hands slipping between the both of you to begin unbuttoning the linen shirt you wore. His fingers grazed the curves of your breasts as he continued down, causing your breath to hitch in the kiss. Once all the buttons were undone, you pulled your arms back from your shoulders, letting Carlos remove the top and drop it to the ground.

Once Carlos removed your shirt, he had better access to more skin. He kissed down your neck to your shoulder, nipping at the curve of skin between them. You shuddered, goosebumps forming on your skin. You pulled away from Charles’s kiss, panting softly as you looked at him. Your eyes remained locked with his bright green ones, pushing the button-up off his shoulders. He removed it, dropping it to the ground. Your hands went to the hem of his t-shirt, fingers sliding underneath to graze the chiseled skin of his abdomen. You gently scratched his skin with your nails, pushing the shirt up. He helped you remove the shirt, bare on his torso except for the necklace around his neck.

You turned around, Carlos’s lips breaking away from your skin. He smiled at you, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Charles traced your curves with his hands, pressing up behind you. You could feel his arousal behind you, teeth gently biting your lip as you undid the buttons on Carlos’s shirt. You held intense eye contact, your fingers moving in a familiar rhythm. Inch by inch, Carlos’s torso was revealed until there were no more buttons.

You tore your gaze away, ogling at the Spanish beauty before you. You touched his warm skin and danced your fingers along the curves. Charles hooked his fingers in the waistband of your linen pants, leaning forward to pepper kisses on your right shoulder. You reached up under the shoulders of Carlos’s shirt and pushed the fabric away. The shirt flowed off his arms, falling to the floor. He reached forward, cupping your cheek before kissing you, his lips revealing his hunger for you.

Charles’s kisses on your skin flowed down your back, his teeth nipping at your hips through your panties as he slid your pants down. He kneeled behind you once the material pooled at your feet, kissing upward. Instinctively, you stepped out of the clothing despite being occupied with Carlos, who massaged one of your breasts through your bra. Charles stood up to his complete form, kissing your shoulder once more as his hand swept across your skin to your panties.

Your eyes immediately flew open as soon as you felt Charles’s hand slip beneath the material of your panties and graze your clit, going to feel your wetness between your folds. The kiss was broken as a moan left your lips, your back arching into Charles. Carlos chuckled between his pants, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip. He attacked your neck with kisses, nipping and sucking at the skin.

You squirmed between the two men, reaching forward and gripping Carlos’s shoulder to help you stand upright. Charles had you on your toes as his fingers lazily circled your clit as if he was playing the piano. Moans bubbled in your throat, but you let out soft pants, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing how they made you feel. Carlos was occupied with reaching behind you, fingers slowly undoing the hooks of your bra. His lips were focused on the skin of your breasts that peeked out from the fabric.

Carlos slipped your bra from your form, discarding it on the ground. He knelt, hands flying to your waist and fingertips digging into the skin. He kissed the curve of your breast before bringing his mouth around one of your nipples, causing you to moan loudly. Your free hand flew to his hair, gripping the dark strands as he teased you from the front and Charles teased you from behind.

You felt the heat and tension build up in your core, signaling your nearing orgasm. You didn’t want to be the first to come, not yet. However, your mind was too distracted and overstimulated by their ministrations to focus on anything but the pleasure they brought you. You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling and trying to get your thoughts in order.

“Let’s take this to the bed,” you panted, feeling the two pause at your suggestion. You could feel Charles’s smile against your skin, the hot breath from his mouth causing a chill to run through you.

“I think that is a wonderful decision, wouldn’t you agree, mate?” Charles purred to Carlos, taking a step back from you. Carlos released himself from teasing your breasts with his mouth, sliding his hands to your ass as he stood up. He squeezed the flesh, a grin on his lips. Finally, he nodded at what Charles had to say, pulling away and stepping to the side, signaling with an outstretched arm to the bed.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you walked past Carlos. He nailed a good smack on your ass, causing you to yelp in surprise. Laughter filled the air as the two men chuckled at your reaction before you sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your arms. You gazed at the two men, looking them up and down seductively.

“I think you both are wearing a little too much clothing. I can fix that for you,” you purred, bringing your hands down to your panties. You hooked your fingers beneath the waistband, pulling them down and off your legs. You dropped them to the floor, keeping your legs open as the two men stared at you as if you were a meal. Carlos’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips.

“Lei sarà la nostra morte, amico,” Carlos huffed in Italian to Charles. You laughed, understanding what the Spaniard said from the little bit of Italian the boys taught you here and there. Charles laughed, walking past Carlos and squeezing his shoulder in agreement. He stepped before you, reaching out and caressing your cheek before gripping your chin. You gazed up at him, giving him a gaze of submission but also tempted to suck his thumb between your lips.

“Will you do the honors, fille chérie?” Charles asked, bringing his thumb up to your lips. You nodded, gently nipping at the pad of his thumb before reaching forward. His hand fell to his side as you undid his belt, leaning forward to kiss his flesh softly. The strap hung undone, framing the button of his jeans. Your fingers slipped the button free, teeth nipping at his right hip. His breath hitched, chest rising and falling as you slowly pulled the zipper down. You reached in, purposefully grazing the obvious erection in his underwear before tugging the jeans down.

“Putain d'enfer,” Charles breathed, pulling away from you. Your hands brushed his thighs as he stepped away. You grinned at Charles, knowing you got underneath his skin. Carlos had watched with his arms crossed, amused as you spent time with Charles. As soon as Charles was yanking his jeans and underwear off, Carlos quickly undid his belt and jeans, soon bared before you.

“Fuck, I am the luckiest woman in the fucking world,” you breathed, toes curling and eyes almost rolling into the back of your head at the sight of the two naked men before you. You watched as they stepped around, Carlos lying horizontally across the bed. His head was slightly close to the edge. He looked at you, patting his chest.

“Come have a seat,” Carlos suggested, eyes beckoning you. You grinned, crawling over to him before straddling both sides of him with Charles’s assistance. He gave you a hand to position yourself over Carlos’s face, and you thanked him with a squeeze of his hand. Next, Carlos brought his hands to your thighs, caressing the skin. You shuddered, blinking your eyes repetitively a couple of times at the sensation.

Carlos pulled you down with no warning, tongue immediately delving within you. You cried out as his tongue circled your clit before attacking between your folds, lapping at your wetness. You reached forward, gripping Charles’s forearm. He waited for you to adjust, in awe at the sight of you.

“Ch-Charles, let me, please,” you pleaded, reaching forward with your free hand and wrapping it around his cock. The motion widened his eyes, but he stepped closer, cock level with your face. You looked up at him as your hand moved down toward the base, feeling the brush of his hair. Your gaze was innocent despite your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock and flicking your tongue out to run over the slit. He groaned, hands clutching your head at the base of your hair and fingers gently digging into your skull.

You closed your eyes, focusing on pleasing Charles with your mouth as Carlos pleased you with his. You took as much of Charles as possible, removing your hand from his forearm to grip the comforter beneath you. Your other hand stroked what couldn’t fit into your mouth, but you liked to focus more on the tip. You would bring Charles close to the back of your throat before pulling back, sucking and licking on the head.

As you teased Charles, Carlos moved to suck on your clit, slipping away one of his hands from your thigh and pressing a finger between your folds. You moaned on Charles’s cock, the sensation causing Charles to pull a breath through his teeth. Carlos gently brought his finger in and out of you, adding another. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, Carlos’s actions causing you to stop sucking Charles’s cock. It still sat in your mouth as you moaned, soon pulling away from him. A strand of saliva followed your lips, soon breaking away.

Your eyes were squeezed soft, pants and moans leaving you. You opened your eyes, brows still furrowed as you looked at Charles. He leaned down, capturing your lips in his. He could taste himself on your tongue and lips, deepening the kiss to devour more. One of his hands clutched the base of your neck, fingers still tangled in your hair. You were brought closer and closer to the precipice of an orgasm, and you reached down, gently smacking Carlos’s shoulders as Charles kissed you. You pulled away, out of breath from Charles’s kiss.

“Carlos, please,” you begged, not wanting to cum on his mouth alone. You needed both of them. Now. Carlos slowed down, removing his fingers first before he pulled his mouth away from you. He licked his lips, patting your thighs to signal you could move. Charles helped you once again, gripping both of your hands to guide you off of Carlos and the bed.

Carlos sat up from the bed, soon standing up to move. His cock moved up and down as he walked to the end of the bed, your eyes watching him as Charles grabbed condoms from the nightstand. He pulled two out, ripping the serrations to separate the two. You glanced behind you at the sound, watching Charles walk over to Carlos and hand him one.

“Thanks, mate,” Carlos said quietly, accepting the condom. Both men ripped the packaging and slipped the condoms on.

“Come here, cariño,” Carlos said, shifting back from the end’s edge but still keeping his feet planted on the floor. You went to him, leaning down and kissing him as you planted a knee on each side of his body. He returned the kiss, one hand on your back, the other lining his cock up with your entrance. You reached down as well before sliding down on him. The kiss deepened as you allowed him to fill you to the hilt, his body taking the both of you back on the bed.

Charles watched the both of you, aroused by the scene and watching Carlos fill you with ease. He stepped between Carlos’s parted legs, touching your lower back. He caressed the flesh of your ass, causing you to pull away from Carlos’s kisses and watch Charles. He took himself in his left hand, shifting to level before slowly entering you from behind. Your eyes rolled back, toes curling, and cunt clenching around Carlos as Charles entered you.

Both men gave you a moment to adjust; the sensation wasn’t new, but it was always slightly alarming initially. Charles leaned forward to kiss your shoulder before straightening back, waiting for the cue. You nodded aggressively, eyes squeezed shut as you clutched Carlos’s shoulders. Carlos kissed your temple before both men moved together, Carlos thrusting up into you and Charles’s thrusts pushing you forward. You moaned, ready to come apart right there.

They were slow at first, continuing to let you adjust like the gentlemen they were. Then, when the only noise you made was panting, they changed their pace, their hips snapping against you. You moaned, back arching, which pushed you further into Carlos. Carlos’s hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh that you knew would leave a mark behind. Charles’s grip was a little looser than Carlos’s on your waist but would still leave faint marks behind.

The pace they set quickly brought you closer and closer to an orgasm, the sensations of both pumping in and out of you overwhelming your body. Carlos thrust up, hips lifting off the bed, and a spot inside you that made you see stars. You gasped, clutching his bicep to the point your nails dug in. The sound of panting and your moans echoed throughout the room, all three bodies glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

“Fuck!” you cried out, soon feeling the tension in your core snap. You squeezed around Carlos, the tightening of your walls pulling him with you, causing his lips to stutter and his grip to tighten. Despite fucking you from behind, the tension of your orgasm was enough to bring Charles to his climax. He rode through his orgasm, slowing his pace until he stopped.

You fell on Carlos, not caring if your full weight was on him. Both of you were a panting, sweating mess. He removed a hand from your waist, running his fingers through his hair. He laid his head back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing down to normal. Charles leaned over you, panting, but he kissed your spine. You hummed softly, weakly glancing back at Charles. Your eyes met, and he offered you a gentle smile, rubbing your back before he removed himself from you.

Charles walked to the ensuite bathroom, going to quickly clean up before he joined the both of you in bed. Carlos tilted his head up, stroking your back before gently patting your bum. You sighed, sitting up and letting him hold the condom before you removed yourself. Carlos leaned over, moving some hair that stuck to the sweat on your forehead. He gave it a gentle kiss, stroking your hair in the process.

Charles quickly returned, picking you up from the end of the bed. Carlos stood up and went to the bathroom, patting Charles on the shoulder. He carried you bridal style to his side of the bed, kneeling to place you in the middle before laying down next to you. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling until Charles was beside you. Your head turned to meet his eyes, a soft smile on both faces. He stroked your hair, and you gently caressed his thigh and knee.

Carlos joined you both on the bed, wearing boxers he discarded on the ground. He lay on his side, close to you. You reached out to him as well, squeezing his forearm. He traced circles on your skin.

“Glad we got to fuck after we eye fucked each other during the match,” you said. Both men laughed, shaking their heads in amusement. You chatted idly about the match, making fun of Charles’s faceplant into the ground. After the teasing, Charles urged you to get cleaned up, which you did while throwing a small fit about it. You went into the bathroom, cleaned yourself up, and slipped on the panties you wore before. Charles stood next to his dresser, boxers on and a soft, folded t-shirt in his hands.

The t-shirt was extended to you, which you graciously accepted. You unfolded the material before slipping it on, following Charles to the bed that Carlos was still on. While you had cleaned up, Carlos slipped under the sheets, exhaustion from the day’s activities finally hitting him. You took your spot in the middle, Charles following you after. You snuggled up before fatigue and sleep took all three of you quickly.

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vvagustd · 11 months

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✎ find a way - minho

[minho (tmr) x fem!reader]

synopsis - y/n runs into the maze after minho

warning! swearing outside of glader slang, mentions of death

is the tmr fandom still alive?? these movies were my whole childhood and i just rewatched the first one and needed to writeee

Something was wrong.

"Are they not here yet?" The entire glade was standing by the door waiting for Minho and Alby to arrive. They were never this late before, and it was almost sun down. The doors would be closing soon.

"Are they going to make it?" The greenie, Thomas, asked.

"They're gonna make it." Newt said.

"What if they don't?"

"They're gonna make it."

The sun was dipping lower below the walls with every agonizing minute. Your leg bounced anxiously, checking every shadow down the corridor for signs of Minho. The worst thoughts started to fill your head. What if you really lost you best friend? What if the person that means the most to you is lying on the concrete of this god-forsaken maze fighting for his life?

Newt's reassuring hand on your shoulder did very little to reassure you.

Another minute passed and the gladers were started to lose hope. They we're getting restless, some were already leaving. You knew, you just knew he was still alive in there. Your Minho was a fighter, fighter until the last second.

"There!" Someone pointed. Everyone held their breath, searching the shadows. Minho emerged, dragging himself along with every last ounce of willpower. Everyone erupted into cheers of encouragement, but you knew something was up.

"Is that Alby?"

He was slung, limp, over Minho's shoulder. They weren't gonna make it.

The ground started to shake, the aching rumble of the stone sounded as the doors inched closer.

"No!" you cried, as if your screams would reverse the doors. "Minho, you can do it!" You saw the pained expression cross his face at your voice, he knew he wasn't going to make it.

The doors were on the verge of closing as you took a step forward. This door was the barrier between your life and your death and you were right on the edge, deciding your fate.

Your time was running out as your heart acted faster than your head. The boys screamed after you as you pulled away from the gladers, ripping away from your life and throwing yourself into inevitable death as you ran through the narrow opening towards darkness. Towards your fate. Towards Minho.

You barely made it, collapsing on the floor as the doors shut behind you. "Congratulations, you just killed yourself."

"What?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/n?" Minho looked up at you with an unreadable expression. You stood up and dusted off your pants before taking in your surroundings. It just clicked how utterly stupid you are. You ran into a dark maze you've never even stepped foot in before, not to mention no one has ever spent a night in the maze and lived to tell the story. You must have been batshit crazy to run after Minho, that, or crazy in love.

"Minho, what do we do?" You asked, running your hand over some ivy that decorated the wall. It felt oddly.. fake.

"Nothing." He replied, letting his head fall.

"Are you serious?" You asked. You waited for him to give any sign that he was just joking, and that he had a plan.

"You did this to yourself, Y/n." He wasn't.

"I ran after you, Minho."

"No one asked you to do that." His voice was raising, yet he stayed calm and unwavering.

"You can't just give up, Minho!"

"Then what am I supposed to do, Y/n?" He looked up at you with tears in his eyes, his voice getting shakey. "I don't know what to do, Y/n. I'm scared. I'm scared, and lost, with no plan and no chance of surviving." He bowed his head again. "You ran after me and now were both here, both dead. You're dead because of me."

Your breath slowed as you approached him. "Living won't be living without you. We're not dead, and I will do everything in my power to get us through the night and out of the maze." You kneeled beside him and drew in a deep breath. "I ran after you because I love you, Minho. You being in here alone sounded like a nightmare, and I couldn't-" he cut you off by taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours.

You felt the pressure of three years in the glade, three years by Minho's side every day and three years of liking him wash away in one kiss. "We'll have plenty more time to do that once we get out of here." Minho said, standing up and offering his hand.

#minho x reader #the maze runner #tmr Minho x reader #tmr thomas #tmr newt #the scorch trials #the death cure #the maze runner x reader #tmr x reader #tmr minho x reader #tmr imagines

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jennaimmortal · 5 months

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Musings on OFMD Season 2

I’m feeling a bit sad today for the OFMD writers. After rewatching S1 & 2 a couple times, it’s become blatantly clear to me that Izzy’s arc this season was a very obvious love letter to both Izzy fans & the great Con O’Neil. Izzy was very clearly written to be an obstacle to Ed’s healing & personal growth, a snare that Ed needed to be freed from, albeit with plenty of nuance hiding under the surface. It would have been much easier for them to kill Izzy off while he was still the toxic, abusive, sadomasochistic terror of S1E10.

Instead of taking the easy route, though, the writers flipped the trope on its head! They utilized every bit of the potential buried beneath Izzy’s super fucked up shell. This season Izzy got

• a fully fleshed out redemption complete with terrible consequences of his 1x10 actions

• a realization of the possibility of another way of thinking & existing that he’d spent all of S1 running from & trying to destroy,

• genuine love & support from his crew mates which he was actually able to accept,

• exploration of the long abandoned softer side of his nature,

• an apology from Ed w/o first offering one of his own,

• a powerful, devastatingly poignant speech that mentally demolished a new nemesis, and finally

• a beautiful, meaningful death in the arms of the man he’d dedicated so much of his life to, known that he was truly loved by him & completely accepting of the fact that Ed’s love was not in the form he’d always hoped for.

It was so much more than we could have hoped for, and was very obviously done in service to the MANY fans that had fallen in love with Izzy even after S1, as well as to give Con a storyline worthy of his immense talent. Considering the face that Izzy was never going to end up becoming the show’s third protagonist, it was more than we could have hoped for!

OFMD has two protagonists, Stede & Ed. All the secondary character narratives that haven’t directly involved Ed and/or Stede have been icing on the cake, but the cake has always been the Gentlebeard love story. I feel like some people forget this, expecting them to treat the secondary characters as if it were an ensemble show instead of a show with leads.

Izzy’s arc really was an amazing gift! The writers gave us this incredible journey for Izzy this season, and what did a disgraceful number of people do? They attacked David directly, insulted the entire show, the writers, & other characters, even wishing actual harm & misery to other characters or even to David himself!

While I know that comparatively speaking, the percentage of show fans who reacted this way was relatively small, it was still an astounding amount of hatred & vitriol thrown at the people who had obviously worked very hard to give Izzy fans something beautiful to hold on to after his inevitable death. Much of the discourse honestly shocked me, considering the fact that OFMD isn’t even an adaptation of another work.

When fans get angry at shows written as adaptations of books, it’s a bit more understandable for them to have extreme reactions. They’ve had certain ideas and headcanons about characters they’ve felt very strongly about for a long time. It can be really jarring & painful when expectations like that aren’t met, the characters or plots are taken in totally different directions, or even excluded entirely.

OFMD, however, is an original creation. This is David Jenkins’s story. These are David Jenkins’s characters. He knows his story, his plotlines, his characters far better than anyone else does because they came from HIS brain! So while we as fans can have our own interpretations & head canons, they are always going to be at risk of being proven totally wrong by the ACTUAL canon.

One of the worst aspects of fandoms, in my opinion, is the way people become so proprietary over the story & characters, insisting that their own interpretations & theories are the only correct ones, which is exactly what happened with Izzy. Fans’ individual & collective interpretations, theories, hopes, & other head canons became concrete & true in their minds. So much so that when the actual story didn’t meet those expectations, so many of them lashed out in some truly unpleasant, sometimes hateful ways.

My only hope is that the rest of the fandom’s love, appreciation, constructive criticism, heartbreak, pain, joy, & excitement has been enough to drown out the deluge of vitriolic comments directed at David & the other writers.

If you stuck with me through this unintentionally long diatribe, thank you! Maybe take a moment to give the writers some comments or replies on social media, showing your love! I know I will!

#our flag means death #ofmd #ed teach #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd izzy #izzy hands

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lokiandbuckysdoll · 5 months

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𝐻𝒾𝓈 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇

Summary: You will do whatever it takes to protect Finnicnk in the Quater Qulle, even if that means sacrificing yourself.

Pairing: (mention) Annie X Finnick, Finnick x Reader.

Word count: 821

Warnings: unreciprocated feeling (one-sided on the reader's side) ANGST!!, love confessions, the reader being sad about the circumstances.

A/N: I watched TBOSBAS which made me rewatch all the THG movies... I fell in love with Finnick Odair again and wrote this. This is my FIRST time writing anything for the THG fandom so please be kind, this may not be the best but i like how it came out. As always let me know if I missed tagging something :)

Read part 2 here

"The male and Female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district"

As soon as President Snow said those words, the breath in your lungs physically disappeared from your body. You were immobile and felt as though you had been transported back in time to when you were a little 15-year-old girl and heard her name called at the 68th Hunger Games reaping.

You quickly knew what was to come, you had to volunteer as tribute. If Finnick's name was to be called you were willing to volunteer to protect him at any cost. You deeply loved Finnick even if he did not reciprocate your love back.

You also knew that if Annie were to be called Mags would volunteer to save her, but just like Mags, you couldn't fathom having Mags back in the games either. You stood up wiping your tears away; from this point on you needed to be strong.

Knowing that Annie's house would be where they would all be, you went there. As soon as you walked in, you could hear Annie's weak sobs as Finnick was holding her. The image broke your heart because, deep down, all you wanted was to be Annie, cuddled up in Finnick's cozy embrace, right now.

When Mags emerged from the kitchen, you sprang to give her a firm embrace. You whispered in her ear, "It will be okay mags, I promise I'll bring him back to you both," but all she did was hold you more tightly. You glanced up, meeting Finnick's gaze, and cracked a smile.

The days before the reaping passed quickly as you made an effort to avoid Finnick, which was initially successful. You were fully aware of the need for these precious moments between him and Annie.

When the day came sure enough Finnick's name was called, " Now our female tribute from District Four is Ma-" the mayor couldn't finish as you interrupted. " I volunteer as tribute!" you moved to stand next to Finnick holding his hand. " Wow! Our tributes from District Four Finnick Odair and Y/N L/N!"

Once your goodbyes were said and you stepped foot on the train you let out a sigh, Finnick looked up from where he was staring at the floor. You’ve tried to get him to move and stall the process of talking to him, but his feet are locked in place.

“Finnick, move.” You tell him, arms crossed over your chest. “It’s not happening, Y/n, why would you volunteer? You should've stayed here in District Four.” You take in a breath, shaking your head, “I need to start getting ready now if we plan on being on time to the capitol. We can talk about this as I get ready.” You point to the side to get him to move. “I’m serious, Finnick. Get out of the way.”

“I'm not moving” He shrugs. You huff out a sound of frustration." If you want to have this conversation right now then at least sit down please" you gestured for him to sit. He listened and sat down. " Why would you volunteer? I could've protected Mags and Annie"

"You're saying you wouldn't be able to protect me?" you questioned back with hurt. " no i- that's not what I meant, if something happens to you I can't let myself live knowing you died trying to protect me" he leans back looking out the window. " Mags told me what you whispered to her the night Snow announced the Quarter Quell. You'd promise to bring me back safe to them. But I can't let you do that because.." he pauses

"Because what fin?" you already know what he's going to say, every time he says it, it pushes you further into the deep end hurting your heart.

He looks to meet your gaze "Because I love you, and I can't lose you just for the benefit of protecting me. I just can't you mean too much to me"

You scoff at his admission "That's just it, you may love me Finnick, but you are not in love with me! I am the one who's in love with you, and I am the one suffering!" You smile sadly at him as you both know this was true and he hated himself for it."At the end of the day, I am willing to protect you at all costs, because you are the only person I have left in my life who I love. Mags and Annie need you more than I do" You wipe away the tears that are now freely falling. " So that's why I volunteered" You get up from the chair. " I think we should get ready now, we will be at the capitol soon" You leave the room fast to not cry anymore, you know now that Finnick knows he'd tried his best to protect you even more.

#the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #finnick x reader #finnick odair #finnick imagine #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick x annie #Finnick odair fanfiction #finnick angst #thg finnick #finnick odiar fanfic

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aromanticbuck · 7 days

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Tommy was nowhere to be found when Buck was in the gym though. That was 100% about Eddie. As was the Christopher thing because he didn't want to be replaced in Eddie and Christophers lives by anyone, for any length of time. The only time I really felt him trying to get Tommy's attention was their first scene together. But that was purposeful by the writers. They wanted to have it both ways and needed Buck to want both of their attention but have no idea why.

I've sat here for almost a full day wondering how to respond to this, and honestly, I very nearly deleted it without responding because... I barely go here. I just shifted over to 911 as my main fandom. I was a One Chicago blog a little over a week ago and yeah, one well timed rewatch might put me back on that train.

I just came over here because I watched the show, enjoyed it, and wanted to have fun with other fans. My posts are my opinion and my observations, and are obviously not meant to speak for all of canon or even any faction of the fandom besides myself (and maybe Kit, but our opinions vary sometimes too, and we live together). I just pointed out what I noticed, and the trends that I picked up on, and how I thought they were intending to establish Buck wanting Tommy's attention - which, in my opinion, they did really well.

So, I'm just gonna put a screenshot of the post this is referring to right here:

Here's the thing. If you watch every single episode of the show looking for Buddie moments whenever Buck or Eddie is on screen (and I saw a lot of that after last night's episode to the point that I'm getting exhausted and annoyed), then that's all you're going to see, even if that's not what they're trying to show us.

It's been especially bad since 7x04 and the BuckTommy kiss. Everyone is looking at his canon queerness through a Buddie lens and ignoring everything else around it. They're making his coming out to Maddie about Buddie, and they're making his attraction to Tommy about Buddie, they're making episodes we haven't even seen about Buddie.

In reality, none of that is about Buddie or confirming future Buddie or anything of the sort. He and Maddie mentioned Eddie in that scene because the conversation started when he said he felt like he was lying to Eddie and he didn't like it. Yes, Eddie and Tommy are similar, and I understand joking about Buck having A Type, but that doesn't make his attraction to Tommy any less genuine. And we don't know anything about 7x06 yet, but everyone is talking about Buddie getting drunk and sleeping together, or Tommy seeing them interact - as he's already seen because the three of them have had scenes together and he's canonically spent time with Chris - and immediately stepping back from the relationship because there might be something there.

Buck is going to his sister's wedding with Tommy. Buck told Maddie and Eddie about Tommy. Buck wants to dance at the wedding with Tommy. He wants to try for something with Tommy. Eddie encouraged him to go call Tommy and work things out. Buck is going to be out to everyone at the Madney wedding because he wants to be there with Tommy as his date.

I don't know. It's just frustrating to see this really good queer relationship tossed to the side because it's not the Popular Ship. Just because you don't ship it or you aren't looking at it directly, it doesn't mean it's not still there.

#answered #anon #anonymouse #alex says things #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #tommy kinard #kinkley #bucktommy #911 #911 spoilers #maddie buckley #buckley fam #I still want buddie endgame #but i forgot how exhausting big ship fandoms can be

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bartxnhood · 11 months

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love you need | s.h

shawn hunter x fem!reader

summary: you notice shawn distancing himself from you and the group until one night she shows up at your door hoping to talk it out.

warnings: angst! both shawn and reader have some self doubt.

a/n: this is my first time writing for shawn, and tbh it’s been a hot minute since i’ve rewatched bmw so😭 but i really miss shawn and i relate to his character sm. so i might start writing for him now, this is just to test the waters. enjoy !

requests open

not proofread

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you stand at your locker rummaging through your books searching for your history book. “hey!” topanga hollers, followed by cory. you push you locker door inwards revealing the couple. “have you seen shawn?” cory questions, you simply shake your head and close your locker. “no, why?” you ask, leaning against the metal. “i haven’t heard from him over the weekend. totally unusual, normally i csnt get rid of him” cory answers, your eyebrows raised. now that you think of it, he hasn’t called or stopped by to see you either.

shawn was the type of boyfriend to check in occasionally, even out of school. he’d often surprise you with small gifts just to lighten things up if you were having a bad day. so this was out of character for him, if he was sick or something came up he’d always tell you or cory. something wasn’t right.

“wel..” you trailed off, furrowing your brows. “we can call if he doesn’t show. surely he wouldn’t not show up and not have a reason or tell us” the other two agrees and decided to let it go for the rest of the day.

but a day turned into two, and next thing you knew he never showed that whole week. you tried desperately to call but each time it went to voicemail. you felt frustrated, why did he disappear all of a sudden? why didn’t he tell anybody? you were high strung for the remainder of that week. snapping at people when you didn’t mean to but, nothing was as important as shawn was to you.

“did i do something to upset him?” you’re laying on topangas bed. she invited you over to work on a project, but after you stayed for dinner. “what if he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? what if he found someone else.” your mind is racing, why else would shawn not come to school or return your calls?

you hear topanga sigh, and came to your aide. “y/n, look at me” you sit-up, looking at her. she puts her hands on your shoulder, “he loves you, y/n. i’m sure he has a reason for why he’s been gone.” you groan, she was probably right but it didn’t your heart from aching. “now, cmon. let’s go eat dinner, okay? get your mind off things.”

it wasn’t unusual for you to be home alone as your parents were typically on work trips. you had your own little routine after school. you’d come home, make a snack, do some homework, maybe read for a couple hours, shower, then go to bed. but today was different, after doing your homework you were pretty exhausted so you had just planned on laying down. thank god you we’re graduating in a few months, the work was beginning to run you down mentally.

it seemed no matter how hard yo supplied yourself, you always came in last. you were barely making the grades to pass your classes, but you were trying so hard.

as you were entering the bathroom, ready to brush your teeth and wash your face you heard banging at your door. of course, you didn’t want to answer because who would be banging on your door at this hour? but, something told you to answer it. you cursed at yourself mentally, you were too nice for your own good and your kindness would be your demise. but when you opened the door you didn’t expect to see him. “shawn?”

“i’m sorry for coming here so late but i just didn’t know where else to go.” shawn states as he runs his hand through his hair. your heart broke just looking at him. it looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his eyes were so dark, he looked beyond exhausted. “shawn, you don’t have to apologize. you know you’ll always have a place here.”

shawn took a seat at the edge of your bed he feels like his heart has been ripped out, all he wants to do is sleep and probably never wake up again. “i just” he rubs his eyes. “i got left alone again, dad went out. i just i didn’t have the guts to face you.” he feels so little, sitting in front of you like this on the verge of tears. “oh, shawn..” you cup his face making him look at you. “it’s okay, you know i’ll always be here. no judgement, shawn. it’s just you and me” you offer a smile.

you see the tears swell in his eyes. shawn wraps his arms around you and rests his head on your stomach. “i’m sorry” he says just above a whisper. “shawn, you didn't do anything wrong. there's nothing to apologize for." you feel him shake his head against your, “no, y/n. i’m sorry i’m not good enough for you.” tears begin to fall from his eyes and he hold on to you as if you were about to be ripped away from him.

“i live in a trailer park, i have nothing to offer you, you could do some much better than me..i don’t deserve you, y/n. you need someone who can provide and give you what you need..i don’t know if i can be that person for you, y/n” you can feel his tears staining your shirt. you remove his arms from your waist as you fall to your knees so you could be eye level with him. “shawn. listen to me” you wipe away his tears, smiling sadly. “you are good enough for me. in fact, i often think you’re too good for me because sometimes i think you could find someone better than me.” now you begin to tear up, confessing all of your bottled emotions.

“shawn, i have felt this toward someone as much as i have you. you’ve saved me so many times and you probably don’t even know it. i promise, you are good enough. you’ll always be good enough,okay? i’ll always be here for you, just let me be the love you need.” tears begin to fall from your eyes, so now the both of you are a crying mess.

“don’t cry, i hate seeing your cry” shawn hums, he wipes away your tears and rests his hand on your cheek. you nod, “i know..” sniffling.

there’s a moment of silence between you two, a comfortable silence. shawn is staring at you. admiring you, puffy eyes and all. he realizes how in love he is, that no matter what life throws at him that he will always have you. shawn softly rubs the pad of his thumb over your check.

“i love you.”

you blink, a few seconds of silence fills the room. he hadn’t said that to you yet, in your years of dating he hadn’t said he loved you, once. shawn was too afraid to love anybody. afraid that he’d ruin the person he wants to love. shawn was like that most of his life, until you changed his mind.

“what?” you feel all the air leave your lungs, your emotions were all over the place now. from crying to now feeling this warmth in your chest as you heard him say the words you had been waiting so long to hear. “say it again”

“i love you, y/n.”

instinctively you wrap your arms around his neck, embracing him in a tight hug. “i’ve been waiting to hear that for so long” you sniffle. shawn rubs you back, you feel him nod. “i know, i should’ve said it a long time ago.”

hours later, after the both of you had spilled your hearts to each other, you offered him dinner but he denied claiming he just wanted to lie down.

you rested comfortably on his chest, he drew circles on your spine. both of you enjoying the silent. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you.” you say. shawn is taken aback, looking down at you. “what?” you look up, smiling softly. “i know we’re still young, but there’s no one else in my life i’d want besides you. i want to be with you forever.” you see him smile, and he tightens his grip around you.

“i like the sound of that…y/n hunter…that has a nice ring to it”

#shawn hunter #shawn hunter x reader #bmw imagines #boy meets world fanfic #shawn hunter fanfic #shawn hunter imagine #shawn hunter x you #shawn hunter x y/n #bmw x reader #boy meets world fanfiction

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ariesqueencobra · 5 months

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what we used to be | l

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet a new kid and your feelings for your best friend are said aloud.

Warnings: mentions of bullying, mentions of slut shaming, implications of violence, implications of strict parents

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Starting my first ever series for Eli! I always wanted to do a series following his story line in the show along with a female character so I did! I'm aware of other series being done like this by other writers on here, but this will be my own unique twist. There are similarities because it does follow the show's storyline but different because of my own interpretations!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

“If the limit never approaches anything, then the limit does not exist,” you listened to Eli as he helped you with your math homework. “But in this case, it does, so what is it?” he pointed at the problem on the sheet.

“Two?” you furrowed your brows, trying your best not to sound like you were guessing.

“C’mon, Y/N, you’re in Calculus for a reason,” he encouraged.

“Only because I passed Trig with an 89, they only let me in because of pity,” you frowned.

Calculus has been your enemy since the beginning of the semester. You really didn’t want to take the class in the first place but your parents had been adamant about you taking higher-level classes. You would’ve been fine filling up your schedule with more creative art classes like ceramics and photography, but that wasn’t the agreement.

Math and science classes were part of the agreement.

Thankfully, you had two smart best friends who helped you whenever you had trouble.

“My advice?” Demetri spoke up.

You and Eli glanced at him, a knowing look on both your faces.

To be honest, while you had two best friends, only one was good at helping you out.

Demetri on the other hand? He had a habit of giving unsolicited advice. But because you loved him, you tolerated and actually encouraged him to hear what he had to say.

“Rewatch Mean Girls,” he deadpanned.

You let out a chuckle. “What I’m hearing is, that you guys are agreeing to watch it for our next movie night,” you grinned.

Both boys groaned.

“I’m fine watching your sci-fi, superhero films, but a girl needs her rom coms and chick flicks,” you mused.

Being the only girl and having vastly different interests compared to the guys, there were moments where you felt outnumbered. Sometimes you have to plead for one movie night to be your pick.

“I’d be down for Mean Girls this Friday,” Eli shrugged.

You silently clapped your hands, face creeping up with heat when you and Eli made eye contact.

“Demitiri?” you turned your attention to your other best friend.

After a minute, he rolled his eyes, agreeing.

“This Friday, my place,” you grinned. “Both my parents will be having a date night, so we’ll have the place to ourselves,”.

“Are you sure your dad will allow that?” Demetri cocked a brow. “That man is scary and I don’t want to know what will happen when he sees his daughter home alone with two boys,” he shuddered.

“He won’t mind, he likes you guys,” you attempted to reassure. “Besides, we’re just watching a movie,”.

“We know that, but will he?” Demetri asked in a mix of sarcasm and sincerity.

“C’mon, my dad isn’t that scary,” you trailed.

“I-I don’t think he likes me very much,” Eli said quietly.

“He does,” you straightened up. “Don’t worry about my dad guys, you’ve known him for ten years,” you stated.

You watched as the boys avoided your gaze, the sound of the cafeteria surrounded you when they both fell silent. Leaning back in your seat, you wondered why they were bringing this up now.

Like he read your mind, Demetri spoke up, “I’m just pointing out an observation I’ve noticed for the last few years. The older we get, the more of a threat your dad thinks we are,” he explained. “Guess it’s the raging teenage hormones!” he gestured with his hands, joking at the end.

Eli’s lips spread out into a smirk.

Relaxing, you shook your head at the way your best friend acted, even though you found the joke to be funny.

For the next few minutes, Eli went on to explain limits to you. You were about to ask a question when a new presence stopped you.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

You all turned your attention to a kid with dark hair and brown eyes, a tray in his hand as he gestured at the empty seat next to Eli.

You were about to welcome him until Demitri beat you to it.

“Check back next semester as you can see we’re entirely booked,” he said sarcastically but the new kid didn’t catch it.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he was about to walk away.

“He’s kidding, you can sit,” you gestured to the empty seat. “I’m Y/N, that’s Demitri and Eli,” you introduced.

“Miguel,” he nodded.

Just then, Yasmine and her entourage walked passed, causing Miguel to go into a trance.

You frowned at his reaction. You hated that just cause they were pretty, it forgave all the terrible things they’ve done to your friends and you.

“You’re just torturing yourself,” Demetri warned. “They’re the rich girls”.

“Do you talk to them or…?” Miguel asked.

“Yeah, all the time,” Demetri feigned a smirk. “We hang out after school, make out,” he shrugged. “Eli is homecoming king, and gets laid more than anyone”.

You rolled your lips together, glancing at your lap.

“You pretty much signed away all hopes of losing your virginity before college the moment you sat at this table,” he frowned.

Comments like that reminded you that boys will be boys. In the sense that virginity is still frowned upon. The societal pressure to lose it before a certain age disgusted you.

What happened to not conforming to society's rules?

“Oh, great, Yasmine is looking at us,” Eli narrowed in on himself, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “Probably making fun of me”.

“I wouldn’t assume that,” you reassured. “She’s always going to have that nasty look on her face,” you grimaced.

Then you made eye contact with her.

She whispered something to Moon, causing both of them to burst out laughing.

You figured she was making fun of you again, calling you a slut or whatever. Dropping your gaze to your food, you checked your phone for the time.

“I gotta go, it was nice meeting you,” you smiled towards Miguel as you got up.

“What about your homework?” Eli asked.

“I got limits now,” you attempted to reassure but your composure fell when you accidentally looked Yasmine’s way. “Besides I have to get my sketch done before class,” you hoisted your bag over your shoulder.

Art was your passion. Since you could talk, you could draw. Your best friends might’ve been computer nerds, but you? You were an artistic geek.

Still, as talented as you were, Yasmine and Moon used that area of your life to make fun of you. Whether it was a silly doodle you drew during class or an actual piece you worked your ass off for class.

They tried to diminish your spirit with your art, but thankfully you haven’t lost it yet.

Shaking your head to brush the thoughts away, you gulped down the lump in your throat and managed to make your way down the hall to your art class twenty minutes early.

While you were gone from the lunchroom, the conversation at the table shifted, focusing on you.

“Do you like her or something?” Miguel asked Eli.

The awkward boy stilled at the newcomer’s question, opting to fidget with his fingers while staring at his tray. He didn’t think he was being obvious, the only other person who knew of his infatuation with you was Demetri.

“He’s been in love with her since they met in kindergarten, her too but they’re too scared to admit it,” Demetri answered for him. “I think they’ll get married before either of them admit they do like each other,”.

It was true.

You liked Eli and Eli liked you.

The moment you laid eyes on him on the playground, that was it for the two of you. But both of you are socially awkward, insecure people…neither of you had the guts to tell each other how you truly feel.

Leaving Demetri to stand and watch at the mutual pining unwind for the last ten years.

“I’m not in love with her,” Eli defended. “Besides, she wouldn’t ever like someone like me,” he folded in on himself.

“You won’t know if you never strike first,” Miguel tried to reason.

“Good luck with getting Eli to do that,” Demerit said.

Eli sighed, keeping his gaze down. As much as he wanted to argue, he knew deep down that his friend was right.

“Keep this door open,” your dad barked quickly followed by your mother scolding him.

The door had been half-way opened, or half-way closed, when he walked past. He decided it wasn’t to his standards so he made sure the door was wide, banging it against the adjacent wall.

“Sorry,” you said, not looking up from your notebook.

You were sitting in your room, Eli helping you study for your Clac quiz tomorrow. It was a routine for the two of you, hanging out after school and doing homework. Quality time well spent and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sometimes Demetri would join but he decided to play Dungeon Lord after school today. Part of you was happy to hear he wouldn’t be joining.

Especially when that meant you spent more time with Eli. Meaning there would be more brief moments where your shoulders or knees would brush. Which would send butterflies straight to your tummy.

“Miguel seems nice,” Eli shrugged, placing his pen down. “He mentioned something about karate, he wants all of us to join,” he smiled lightly.

“Really?” you smirked. “What did Demetri say to that?” you laughed, knowing he had some highlighted opinions about it.

“Wasn’t on board, but I don’t know,” he glanced down. “Maybe it could be fun,” he said.

“If you want to,” you passed him a smile. “It’d be nice to see you kick Kyler’s ass for once,” you sighed, glancing at the problem in your book.

You missed the way he frowned but he continued, “You should join too,”.

“Me?” your eyes widened and you glanced up to meet his gaze.

“Yeah,” he cracked a grin. One that was big and genuine, something that only happened in front of you or Demetri. “You’d be great at kicking ass too,” he reasoned.

“In my dreams,” you huffed out a laugh. “I can barely do a push-up,” you shook your head.

“Maybe just think about it,” he suggested.

“Okay, I will,” you nodded. “So, how am I doing?” you licked your lips.

You pushed your notebook between the two of you.

Both of you leaned in, your shoulders brushing against each other. Anytime you inhaled, you smelled him.

He smelled nice.

“You’re doing good, you just need to remember that an open circle means the limit exists but not in the function,” he pointed at the problem you got wrong.

“Stupid circles,” you huffed out a breath, running a hand over your hair. “Thanks again, Eli,” you pressed your lips into a soft smile.

“You’re going to do great, okay?” he nudged his elbow with yours.

“Okay,” you nodded, allowing yourself to believe.

You went over the material for a few minutes, your mind getting lost in all things limits and functions.

Unbestowent to you though, Eli was watching you.

He watched the way your nose would scrunch when you didn’t understand what you read the first time around. The way your lashes fluttered as you scanned the page. The way you would lick your lips in concentration. The way you would crack your knuckles when they got too stiff.

He was utterly in love with you.

Being friends for ten years, you’d reach that point without even dating. Even if it was just puppy love, he knew one thing for sure—he likes you, a lot.

He doubted himself when he thought about what Demetri said. And when he thought about the comment Kyler made earlier of him being a loser. He had come home crying, knowing he was never going to get a girlfriend because of the way he looked. But then his mind thought to Miguel.

Maybe he could be wrong, maybe he could get a girlfriend. Maybe it could be you.

Without second-guessing any further, he opened his mouth.

“Hey, Y/N?” he cleared his throat.

“Yeah?” you reached your gaze to his, your head resting in your palm.

“I like you,” he confessed, face going pale at the fact that he actually said that to you.

Your eyes went wide, face blank as you took in his words. You didn’t say anything for a few moments, just staring at your best friend.

“I-you know, never mind, I shouldn’t have said anything,” he felt embarrassed, shaking his head as he went back to his homework.

“Wait!” you reached out and touched his arm. “I like you too,” you gulped, a smile creeping up on your face.

“Really?” he seemed taken aback.

You nodded enthusiastically.

The two of you gazed at each other for what felt like a few minutes until you bent over in giggles, still in disbelief.

“I’m glad you told me,” you reached for his hand on your desk, squeezing it.

“Me too,” he squeezed it back.

You felt your cheeks heat up before you turned back to your work.

The rest of the night was spent with the two of you doing work, holding hands.

The next day at school, Eli was sitting with Demetri and Miguel.

Having just told the news about you and him, he was feeling a little proud of himself that he actually did it.

And more relieved that you actually reciprocate his feelings.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Demetri raised a brow.

Eli smiled, his cheeks turning pink while Miguel laughed.

“I’m glad someone took my advice, now you see my Sensei is legit,” Miguel pointed out.

Eli nodded, a small smile on his face.

“I’m gonna need more evidence to back it up,” Demerit crossed his arms over his chest. “This,” he gestured to Eli, “has been a work in progress for ten years, your words of encouragement just gave him enough push,” he scoffed.

About to respond, Eli was stopped by the smell of your perfume. He turned his head to the left just in time to greet you as you approached the table.

“Hi, guys,” you greeted, taking your seat next to Eli. “Hi, Eli,” your cheeks warmed up.

“Hi, Y/N,” his eyes beamed with admiration. “You look nice,” he blushed, glancing over the pretty green sundress you wore today, but his gaze circled back to your face.

“Thanks,” you glanced down, running a hand over the skirt. “It’s been in my closet for a while, I figured it’d be happy to see the light of day,” you shrugged, unaware he wasn’t talking about the dress.

“You should wear it more often,” Eli commented.

Demetri and Miguel sent each other a knowing look before Miguel decided to cut the awkward lovey-dovey talk.

“So, Y/N, did Eli tell you about joining my karate dojo?”

You focused your gaze on him, the warmth of your cheeks dissolving when your mind was pushed away from Eli. “Uh, yeah,” you smiled. “I thought about it, but I don’t know if I want to do something like that. I need my hands for my art, I don’t want them beaten and bruised,” you stifled a laugh.

Miguel nodded in understanding. “Thanks for thinking about it, Y/N,” he pressed his lips in a smile.

“No problem. Anyway, do you want to join us for movie night this Friday?” you extended your invitation to him. “You can pick the movie,” you offered.

“Sure, I’d like that,” he grinned.

“Awesome”.

Friday came around and you were all seated on your couch in the living room watching Spider-Man.

You actually enjoyed the pick, especially watching the nerdy boy become the hero. One who reminded you a lot of the boy sitting right next to you.

Miguel was on the recliner, Demetri on the other end of the couch, and Eli in the middle with you on the other side. Except, Eli was scooted closer to you, only a bowl of popcorn separating the two of you.

Your hands happened to brush a lot when you’d reach for the popcorn. Though, you didn’t mind.

You had gotten to the part where Peter Parker discovered his powers, a glass in your hand as you had come back from refilling your drink.

“That’s a cool painting,” Miguel noticed the piece of art framed by the TV.

It was an oceanscape of the beach.

“Y/N painted it,” Eli stated.

“No kidding,” Miguel said in amazement, standing up to study it. “You’re really talented, Y/N,” he smiled over to you.

“Thanks, that was my first one so my parents framed it,” you shyly said.

“You should see her sketchbook, it’s filled with the most awesome things,” Eli smiled.

You glanced at him, sending him a thankful look.

“Can I see?” Miguel’s eyes beamed. “My yaya loves paintings, I’d love to show her your work,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ll grab some that you could take pictures of,” you stood up, cheeks on fire.

It wasn’t often that you got praised for your art, mainly from your parents or your friends. So this was new. But you took the pleasure from it nonetheless.

Heading to your room, you grabbed a few of your favorite paintings before you went to your bag in search of your sketchbook, only you couldn’t find it.

As panic erupted, you thought back to the last time you saw it. You had it in art class and then you went to P.E. You could’ve sworn you had it then, but you guessed you were wrong.

“I can’t find my sketchbook,” you gulped, walking back to the living room.

“Maybe you left it in your locker or someone found it and took it to the lost and found,” Miguel offered, gesturing with his hands.

“Yeah, it’ll turn up,” Demetri reassured. “I don’t think anyone would have wanted to steal it,” he shrugged.

“We’ll help you find it on Monday,” Eli said, reaching for your hand.

“Thanks, guys,” you blew out your breath.

You were glad you had them and you really hoped your sketchbook turned up.

Part of you didn’t want to think about it, but you were worried about who had it if they did. And it only traced back to two girls.

support a writer...comment and reblog!

#eli moskowitz x reader #hawk x reader #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #cobra kai

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