#(and she says while he barely knows of her existence [he DOES know i exist but there are so many of us he coaches so i'm sure i'm just one

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken

max verstappen x reader

she isn't you i'd be insane not to love you

request from @formulaal

Pt. 2 here

"Alright, one more question from the chat," you said into your mic, scanning for a good one. One caught your eye, and you began reading it aloud before realizing it would reveal something from your past. “Would you choose a guy over your best friend?”

Laughing humorlessly, you looked into the camera with a tight smile. “Anyone who’s been here for a while knows how relevant that question is to my life. But my answer hasn’t changed: if you’re choosing a romantic partner over your best friend, you can get fucked. Thanks for tuning in, everyone. See you around.”

Logging off, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the kitchen to refill it. Checking your phone, you smiled at the stats from the stream—10k of your fans tuning in tonight was a big turnout. You’d gone viral on BookTok back in 2020, and now, your book podcast had a solid following. Normally, BookTok didn’t bring huge numbers, but thanks to your former best friend, your popularity had skyrocketed. As grateful as you were, his part in your success irritated you now.

Then a notification popped up on your screen, and you rolled your eyes.

MV: Nice stream.

You: Fuck off

MV: Glad I’m still living rent-free in your head.

You: Glad you got permission to text me.

You threw your phone down on the counter, boiling inside. Nobody got under your skin like he could, especially after 20 years of knowing exactly how to do it. Growing up, it hadn’t always been this way. At 10, you’d moved with your family to the Netherlands, right next door to the Verstappens. Max quickly became your best friend, your weekends spent watching him kart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine things would end like this.

You met Kelly in 2018 at a race Max invited you to. Right away, you got weird vibes. She looked at Max like a toy she had to have. It was creepy, especially given the nine-year age gap. By 2019, they were dating, and she made it clear she didn’t like you, refusing to acknowledge your existence. That led to rocky times between you and Max; he always had excuses to avoid seeing you. When you were together, he seemed tense, as if being watched.

Everything fell apart in Australia 2021.

Flashback

Max invited you to the first race of the 2021 season, though you almost didn’t go. It felt obligatory, as if he invited you just because you’d never missed an opening race. You hadn’t seen him all winter, just exchanging quick holiday texts. Walking into the paddock, you felt a strange sense of finality, like this might be the last one.

Spotting Carmen outside Mercedes, you walked over and hugged her. As you stepped back, she looked worried.

“What’s up?”

She hesitated. “I thought you should know, Kelly’s been saying some nasty things about you around the paddock. No one believes her, but… I wanted you to know.”

“What is she saying?” you asked, heart sinking.

“She’s calling you pathetic, saying you’re still pining over your childhood crush and using Max to become an influencer,” she said softly, looking at you with sympathy.

“You’re joking,” you said, anger simmering. She shook her head.

“Can I be real with you?” She asked, and you nodded. “I love you and George loves you and honestly, everyone does. But I will accept not seeing you here anymore if you finally realize that Max is not being a good friend to you. And he hasn’t been for a long time.”

Eyes filling with tears, you let her words sink in. She was right, but admitting it was brutal. Maybe staying around him was just self-inflicted pain.

You found Max later, pulling him aside.

“I only have a few minutes, so make it quick,” he said, barely looking at you. Seeing him like this, you realized that the man in front of you wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“Your girlfriend’s telling people I’m a pathetic loser here to use you for fame,” you said, voice flat.

“I don’t believe that,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Really?” you laughed bitterly. “You don’t believe that from your girlfriend—the one who’s disliked me since day one?”

“Seems like you have something to say, Y/N. Just say it,” he replied, finally looking at you.

“There was a time in my life where I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without you. But now I’m living it. Have the past ten years been nothing to you? All it took was an older woman to bat her eyelashes at you and that was it?”

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going to stand here and tell you that we had a good run and that I wish you the best. Fuck you. Fuck you for choosing her over me and fuck you for even letting it have to be a choice. I hate you.”

End of Flashback

That was the last time you had spoken to him. There were no texts or calls after that; his life just went on like normal while you felt like you were dying inside. You had thrown yourself into your work after that and now had over a million followers and subscribers to your podcast. You’d stayed friends with Carmen but hadn’t returned to a race since that day. You had tried to block the memory of that day from your mind, but when you were low, one thing always resurfaced in your mind. Kelly was right about you pining after your childhood crush. You had been in love with Max back then. How could you not be?

Then Carmen invited you to the Austin GP, and after much persuasion, you finally agreed. Thanks to your online following, you flew down with her, officially a Mercedes guest. Wearing Mercedes colors felt like poetic justice.

When you entered the paddock, a wave of nostalgia and sadness hit you. But it disappeared as you saw familiar faces you’d missed over the years.

"Y/N!" Alex called, arms open. Hugging him, you sighed, realizing how much you’d missed everyone. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you admitted before greeting Lily, who gushed over your podcast and joked about being a guest. As you laughed with her, you noticed Alex subtly trying to block your view. Looking over, you saw Max walking by. He did a double take, but you turned back to Lily, ignoring his stare.

Later, as you waited for a coffee, you overheard Checo’s wife and Fernando’s girlfriend chatting.

“I heard Max and Kelly broke up,” Melissa said.

“Oh yeah, it’s been a few months,” Carola replied, shrugging. “Apparently, he was in love with someone else the whole time.”

You smirked. So Kelly finally experienced what it felt like to be second choice.

The race came and went, and you successfully avoided Max the entire weekend. You didn’t even think about the possibility of running into him when you accepted Carmen’s invitation to go out that night. George had actually wanted to go out, so you found yourself at a little country bar that night with what seemed to be the whole grid. You felt Max’s gaze the second you walked in, and you were doing a hell of a job ignoring him. Charles was trying to talk to him, looking confused between the two of you, but you didn’t care.

Ordering another gin and tonic you felt him come up next to you and you refused to look over.

“Put hers on mine,” Max said, handing over his card. You tried to leave, but he held out an arm to stop you.

“No ‘thank you’?” he teased, eyes intense.

You glared. “You can have it, then.”

“Stop being difficult,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You look good.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” you shot back, and his expression darkened.

He sighed. “Can we talk?”

“I said everything I needed to say three years ago. Have a good night.”

This time he let you go and you made your way back to Carmen who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay?” She asked, and you nodded.

A little while later, you were sitting at a table talking with Charles with Max hovering close by.

“Max, come sit down,” Charles slurred, and at this point, you were too tipsy to put up a fight about it. “Max is my best friend, ya know?”

“Ah yeah?” You asked head tilting. “Those words don’t mean much coming from him.”

Charles giggled, too drunk to understand what you meant and Max clenched his jaw looking at you.

“Insult me all you want schatje, as long as you’re talking to me I’ll take it,” he said and you didn’t say anything, just stared at him trying to figure out his angle.

“Is this the girl Kelly broke up with you over?” Charles asked and Max whipped his head towards him. “You always had a thing for her, so I told Alex that was my guess.”

Max’s face fell, and you froze. Shock turned into anger as you got up and stormed out. You felt Max following and soon he was in front of you, blocking your path.

“Come on,” he urged, leading you to a nearby park.

“Max, I don’t want to talk,” you said firmly, pulling away.

“I don’t care,” he replied, frustrated. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

You laughed bitterly. “Crawling back because you got dumped? It’s too late.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You made your choice three years ago. Now live with it.”

“You want to know why we broke up?”

“I don’t really give a fuck,” you replied before turning to walk away.

“She isn’t you!” He yelled. Your legs stopped moving as your mind reeled.

Whirling on him you got into his face, “You don’t get to fucking say that to me. Not after all this time. Not after what you put me through. Not after you chose her over me. I was there the whole time Max. Me! I was there! It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that till I was gone.” 

“I realized it long before then,” he said softly, and you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Tears were starting to fall, and you looked everywhere but him. 

“Then why?” You whispered, voice cracking. 

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you,” he said laughing sadly to himself. “The pressure was starting to cave in back then and I didn’t want you to see that. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You were my best friend Max,” you said exasperated. “I would have done anything for you.” 

“It’s easy to see that now,” he said. “But then you were so full of life and starting your little videos that I didn’t want to disappoint you. She understood what I was going through, but I never stopped loving you.” 

“Then why did you still push me away?” 

“I had to do that so that I could try and move on. She knew and she hated that there wasn’t anything she could do to change how I felt about you. I knew what she was saying about you in the paddock, and I knew why she was saying it.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and it felt like heartbreak all over again. “You knew and you let it happen. You are the worst person I’ve ever known Max Verstappen.”

He was crying now too and the two of you stood staring at one another not saying anything. 

“I would be insane not to love you,” he said softly and it made you cry harder. “So I will do whatever it takes for however long to make up for what I did.” 

He let you go again and you left him there, crying silently as you walked back to the hotel. So many emotions going through your mind paired with confusing feelings. 

Happiness for your 15-year-old self that has wanted to hear those words for so long. 

Sadness for your 21-year-old self reliving those memories. 

And anger at your 24-year-old self for considering letting him make it up to you. 

[aethesfaelibrarae]

Mouthwashing has given me a lot of brain worms and we've got thoughts—time to share them with the hungry void that is Tumblr. One of the last places I'm 90% certain my words won't show up stolen or regurgitated by machine.

Warning for spoilers about the game and rambling!

I believe that Mouthwashing is a modern-day Lolita. The storytelling is similar, in that, almost against their own better judgement and will, the audience finds themselves thinking like our unreliable narrator(s).

Most people.. Sorry, some people have cottoned on to the fact that Anya's personality is not that of a scared, timid and ultimately, useless nurse and she's been in fight or flight response for months now with no other choice but to fawn. As someone who has been in a similar situation for only one day a week for months, the fear only got worse, the longer I went without support. And the things that she does in the background.. No doubt similar to the way that Daisuke kept track of their food supply was brushed over and unsung.. So is the fact that Anya has been keeping a severe burn victim—with 4th degree burns so severe, any treatment we currently have is experimental and expensive.. If the pain does not kill you first—she's been keeping Curly alive for months with no help and incredibly minimal supplies. (I personally think that Anya probably was on the side of giving him an easier death or maybe even suggested a gentler way of giving him medicine—but (sterile) syringes in space? Limited water? An especially dismissive Swansea and go with the flow Daisuke?.. Easier to try and give Jimmy what he wants.)

But. I believe that people overlook the ways in which Catastrophe Jim's perspective on Curly twists our own. Pre-Crash Curly exists upon a pedestal—a good man, better than Jimmy could ever hope to be; a good, well-liked captain. Well-off, better looking (I say this because of the similarities in how Jimmy mentally views himself in similar shape and age as Curly) and still reaching for more. For better. People catch the underlying jealous and resentment for the life that Jimmy wants at all cost but.. They miss the pedestal. The miss the fact that if Jimmy says that Curly's better than he is, a good and better Captain.. That means that Curly is doing the bare fucking minimum: keeping them all alive year after year. Curly is a nice captain with the capacity to soothe over minor issues and keep a cool head and keep the crew on schedule.. But he is not a good one. He's not even a good person. Not really. Jimmy thinks of him as a good person, puts him on this pedestal that he's foaming at the mouth with excitement to pull him off of. Dirty the golden boy and spit on his silver-threaded bootstraps once and for all.

Except.. What evidence do we have that Curly is especially liked or respected? Where is this cheering crew? Where is Curly good?

Curly is a human, at the end of the day.

And.. Which comes to my more complicated and no doubt contriversal take... Curly is also a victim of Jimmy stuck in fawn response. This doesn't absolve him of the ways in which he failed the crew but Anya especially by letting Jimmy run amok and failing to take any action while he still had the chance. He stood by when Anya begins to hint at something beneath the shiny veneer of a happy tight-knit crew and most damningly, he stood by as Jimothy entered the cockpit immediately after suggesting a plan to kill everyone aboard.

I genuinely.. Genuinely.. Don't know what he thought would happen.

But he does take action.. And his last action is what makes he and Anya swap places. Except.. Not truly.

Yes, they are in similar situations—vulnerable to the whims of a psychotic madman with an inferiority complex and their plight largely ignored by the crew; a necessary sacrifice to keep the peace.. Just until safe harbor—but where Anya begins to gain autonomy and some relief from Jimmy no longer having a need for her.. Curly finds himself the center of Jimmy's world.

And that is not a great place to be in.

Curly is systemically isolated (bad-mouthed to the crew over and over again, berated publicly, blamed for an awful accident that Jimmy caused) and his torture and abuse mirrors the continuous, silent medical, emotional and physical abuse that many disabled people face. And almost in a worse way, his voice is stolen from him and used in such insidious inspiration porn.. A lot of people think that he actually said those things.

But we won't know. And if he did say these things.. Why does Jimmy only seem to (mis)understand them in the final acts? Recalling them in Curly's voice but not as the Captain but as a savior, his last charitable act to wipe the ledger of blood clean.

Jimmy doesn't want to see Curly better. He likes feeling useful. He enjoys having Curly watch him and in the same breath, he loathes it. He wants Curly's judgement. He wants Curly's praise. He wants.. Everything that makes Curly Curly.

Curly as a silent observer isn't remarked on often.. Nor is the fact that more than likely, the others heard Curly's sobs of pain from the medbay. But Curly is very conscious, very aware and very alone in his thoughts.

There's a point in which the perspective changes during Swansea's mercy killing—a gift that no one offers Curly—and once again, Curly is stuck watching all of his mistakes play out, one after the other. Unable to do anything but laugh.

But is it a laugh or a sob? Jimmy doesn't care and neither does the player—what's important is the objective: the gun. 739. Click. He steps over Anya's body like it's not even there and runs away.

We don't find out what set Swansea off—maybe Jimmy couldn't help himself and said something about Daisuke or Anya that blamed them. Maybe it was something else. Curly watches on. Helplessly.

There's something to be said about the black screens and the static that occurs when Jimmy hurts Curly or kills Swansea—like he's cutting the memory off before the guilt can get to him. And it's the same thing I'd like to bring up about Curly's voice. Yes, it takes a lot to speak without lips.. Or from what it looks like a tongue.. But there are more noises Curly can make. Noises that can refute Jimmy.

And in the same way that he's at the precipice of something so terrifying he keeps returning to the same spot that's slowly killing him, he's learned that fighting is useless.

It's 2 months after the crash when see Jimmy's perspective again, after all. And while Anya's requests for help seem to be new.. Who's to say that the beatings are?

The worse type of abuse is the type that leaves no bruises. After all, Curly cries all the time in pain.. What's the difference here?

To cycle back to my original point in this.. I don't see a lot of people consider Post-Crash Curly's living hell as another facet of Jimmy's abuse going unchecked by the people around him as anything other than comeuppance. As Karma. And it's the coldest take I've seen from the fandom so far. Allow me to reheat it up for you: disability so severe that you must rely on others is not divine punishment. It's not just desserts. Just as disabled people are your infantilazed, idealized, inspirational iron woobie that can take pain and push through it.. They are also not being punished by the divine. They are humans and sometimes shit just happens and it sucks.

The way that Jimmy views Post-Crash Curly as a saving prop.. Proof that he can indeed fix it.. is so normalized that as the audience, it can be something that you aim to achieve–one of the earliest and easiest achievements you can get is opening and closing Curly's mouth like a mannequin.

There's a relief that we share when Curly shuts up. There's a shutdown in empathy when Jimmy brutalizes him. Up until we can no longer look away.

Because Jimmy can no longer look away. And that is the chilling part of all this. Jimmy gets away with it—all of it—because of the crew's inability to overcome their own apathetic acceptance of the monster in their midst.

Just like most people accept the main character from Lolita as a gentleman, the crew accepts Jimmy as a guy. A little rough and short-tempered but what do you expect from blue collar work? Hold your nose, it'll be over in a year. In 8 months. In 10. Soon. It'll be over soon.

I can't help but worry if Jimmy weren't so bad at being likable and if he were even a smidgen of the charismatic mastermind, he so clearly wants to be..

We'd have another Valentino on our hands.

Mouthwashing is a horror that I can't help but devour. FEAST, indeed.

[celtrist]

I'm not sorry for loving you~

Really doesn't need to involve the obsession au, but the au is what I had in mind. And maybe that song would work better with someone than Mimzy, but Mimzy is probably one of the more sane-ish? Characters in this AU.

So I have to admit, Mimzy was just one of those characters that slipped my mind when thinking of the obsession AU. Granted the docket of characters was very filled in the original piece, and despite the history of these two characters (both in-universe as well as their development history), their relationship whether romantic or platonic is incredibly overlooked. I feel like it's pretty common knowledge concerning Hazbin, but when I talk about the character's developments, I mean that they were originally a romantic couple. Despite this fact, Almimzy is an incredibly non-existent ship, and that makes sense. Alastor and Mimzy barely interacted in the official show, and while she was planned to be a guest, she wasn't really present in the pilot or anything. With so little content even when the official show came out, it's kinda no wonder but it's still a little surprising considering their old status as a couple.

Ah, but I'm rambling! Back on topic, I didn't think of Mimzy until I was asked about it (which as silly as it is, it was really neat to see people ask about this au!). So I've since thought a bit more and all that I've said in the ask is pretty much close to on point with how she acts. I do think, however, that considering she ALSO knew Alastor in life just as he had her, she would be slightly aware of... something being amiss with her feelings. Not insanely, she's just as bad and unaware as everyone else with the obsession she has over him. She just is able to remember her feelings on Earth and compare them to her current feelings and recognize that they're not exactly the same. The problem is that, she's Mimzy. She seems like the type who'd be in denial about something being wrong with her, but I feel like she'd recognize while not thinking too hard about it that the love she felt on Earth is seemingly altered in Hell. The line "I'm not sorry for loving you" feels really good for her here when considering most of everyone else around Alastor WOULD be sorry if they had a more clear mind about it. But Mimzy wouldn't be sorry about it because she always loved Alastor, even back on Earth (in this AU anyway)

Mimzy's obsession is unique in that, rather than doing anything to Alastor she does things to HERSELF to get to Alastor, she doesn't have as much to be guilty of compared to others in her actions due to the curse. She gets herself into trouble, makes herself sick, self-harms, and has probably threatened to kill herself to get his attention, which not great and all very manipulative, but she never forces Alastor to do anything and could be (I don't know if I'm settled on this idea yet) rooted in her own self-esteem concerning the self-harm stuff. And it works. Alastor is canonically close to Rosie, but he never knew her until Hell so in this AU, he doesn't know who the real Rosie is. He knows who the real Mimzy is though, and he doesn't want anything bad to happen to her. So ironically, the person who pushes themselves onto Alastor the least does probably get most of his attention.

I can imagine a scene like this where he's patching her up and they're talking and Mimzy brings up how she's perhaps confused with her own feelings considering how different they are from life. And I can just imagine Alastor feeling more ill at the idea of Mimzy having always loved him romantically but never saying anything if she confessed that, despite how crazy her feelings for him feel in Hell are, the feeling of love and wanting him in a way he doesn't reciprocate was always true since their time alive.

I'm just rambling, but like I said in the ask Mimzy is probably one of the more tragic cases of what the curse does to Alastor's relationships. She's also probably the closest Alastor can feel to having a true friend again, even if Mimzy is still pretty far from her actual self around him. But she's familiar and would probably be the biggest driving force for him to try and get rid of the curse (other than the obvious harassment). He enjoyed Rosie before she made him sick, and he enjoyed Vox before he revealed to be the absolute worst in his thoughts about what he wanted from and to do to Alastor, but Alastor only knew them in Hell. And as far as he's aware, the curse starts immediately, so he NEVER knew the real Rosie or Vox. But Mimzy was someone he knew and wanted to be real with again... and could pretend to be real with again given a few drinks.

[soft-serve-soymilk]

More random head children musings (aside from the really sad one because that deserves better than a throwaway post):

Honestly I think it’s very fortunate that Dism’s team isn’t *entirely* comprised of lucid dreamers.

[zoennes]

“So you would have answered?”

08 MEI, 2019 ● WOENSDAG, 12:21

[pennielane]

in my brief absence from here i’ve managed to fall in love with a man 11 years older than me

[aakeysmash]

Tell me you love me

Pairing: f!reader x Sukuna Ryomen.

Word count: 2512.

Warnings: ANGSTTTTTT. An attempt at it at least lmao, let me know if I did a good job with it. A bit suggestive in the middle. Cursing. Mentions of cheating (mentions!!! No cheating in this house).

People often say that Sukuna would be obsessed with the reader/oc, but I think a relationship with him would be the hardest thing ever.

He doesn’t get the concept of being in love: at the start of your relationship he found out you were more tolerable than anyone else, he assumed that meant he liked being around you and went along with it. Of course he fell in love in the long run, but for him it’s embarrassing to admit it. He barely even said it when you asked him why he wanted you to move in with him.

It’s not like he isn’t obsessed with you: he’s obsessed with the way you just seem to get him, with the way you smile when he comes home from a long day at work, with the utmost kindness you treat people around you with and that he lacks completely. He’s mesmerised by you, by the curve of your hips, the brightness of your eyes, the softness of your hands on his body.

He doesn’t show it, though.

He’s used to being rough and redeems emotions as futile. Like he already said to you in a couple of your arguments, if you get him you get him, if not, he’s not explaining himself. Everything he does is thought of and automatically right, so why would he give you explanations?

But sometimes in relationships you need communication. He doesn’t see how intense it is to be next to someone who acts like he doesn’t care about what you want to share in your daily life. And again, he does care: if he could, he’d make a copy of you yapping and just listen to it on repeat while working. He loves how passionate you sound while talking about your hobbies, he finds the little tilt to your voice when you search for his approval adorable. He doesn’t see how difficult it is to be with him because he’s only been with you, and you’re so good at communicating and making him feel heard he doesn’t notice he’s not reciprocating your efforts.

And that means that he’s never the one who wants to resolve misunderstandings, because he thinks they don’t really exist. You were upset about your dish not coming out the way it was supposed to and instead of reassuring you it was still edible he straight up said it looked horrible and walked away? He’s not sorry. He spoke his mind, did he not? And why would you be sad about the truth?

You’re not weak, and you’re not shy either. Kind people are not necessarily stupid, and you’re living proof of that. He’d never be in a relationship with a weakling who doesn’t know how to raise her voice and stand her ground. You’re fierce in your own way, and you know how to manage his stubbornness 90% of the time. You don’t like being disrespected or ignored, and you made sure to talk his ear off whenever he did it. Not like he purposefully did it, anyway.

But as a person who understands emotions and feels emotions, sometimes being with him frustrates you. And it comes to a point where you debate on keeping being next to him or leaving him for good.

He’s not the only one who has hard days, but when both of you have one, the silence inside your house is deafening. You’re the one who usually starts up conversations, but your mind is occupied with other things. You’ve barely touched your food.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He scoffs at dinner. He doesn’t like you frowning, it wrecks his heart. It makes him want to destroy the face of whoever took the smile he lives for off your face.

You sigh. “You know how my parents said they were coming to visit us next month? Well-”

He’s silent. Fuck, when did she say this? He thinks. Probably one of those days where the thought of your thighs suffocating him all night plagued his mind last week. Fuck, he’d take a bite of them right now if you let him. Maybe he could suggest it. It could take his mind off of his own shitty day.

“Are you even listening to me?” You say sternly. He notices you kept on talking while his mind wandered, but he disregards it.

“Wanna fuck?” He asks instead.

You’re baffled. “Sukuna, what the fuck?”

“Damn, you could’ve just said no, brat,” he says rolling his eyes.

You get offended. “Don’t fucking ask me what’s wrong if you’re not going to listen to me.”

“Yeah yeah, you were probably going to talk about how worried you are and shit. I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to get my dick wet I’m going to rub one out,” he says waving his hand in front of your face and standing up from his chair.

You huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Would you prefer me to find someone else to do it for me?” He bites, snapping his head toward you.

He sees you widening your eyes. If there’s a thing you don’t tolerate is cheating, or jokes about it. He knows it. He knows it, dammit. You’re fuming.

“You’re an asshole. Fuck you. I’m sleeping at Nobara’s,” you spit at him, grabbing the purse you left on the side of the table and rushing out the door, slamming it.

When he’s left alone in your shared living room, he keeps on looking at your front door. The silence is making his head hurt, the only thing he’s hearing is the sound of the door slamming. Did he overstep? Nah, you were probably overreacting. He shrugs and finally moves from his spot, going to put his dish in the sink. He leaves yours on the table, because maybe you’ll be hungry when you come home. You usually are after an argument. You’ll come back after a couple of hours saying you didn’t want to worry him too much, you’ll sigh saying this can’t keep on happening and that you’re tired of arguing, then he’ll hug you and everything will be alright. Just like it always is. You’ve never left like this, though.

He ruffles his hair; he’s angry at everything and everyone. You should’ve got that he’s the one overreacting, why didn’t you get him like usual? Why aren’t you still back after 3 hours? He hates feeling angry. He hates feeling tired. He hates feeling in general. Most importantly, he hates that the hands in his hair are his and not yours. He hates the way right now he’s craving your soft voice reassuring him in his ear, your sweet words covering him like a blanket; his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat while lying on your couch, reminding you that you’re there. You’ve always been there. There’s no one else for him, there’s never going to be one. He’d never cheat, you’re so stupid for getting angry about it. Why did you get so mad about it? Suddenly, he’s thinking about random stuff you said that he ingrained in his head.

I love you too, Sukuna. I’ll wait for you to tell me that without me forcing it out, mh? I’ll move in with you, sure, if you ask me so that nicely.

You picked this book because it reminded you of me? Thank you, baby. I love it. Both the book and the fact you thought of me.

Can you stop messing up my sock drawer? No, I did not hide your cigarettes there. But please stop smoking, I love when you taste like my lip gloss and not that disgusting shit you inhale. Give me a kiss so I can prove it to you. I’ll take your breath away way better than tobacco.

He smirks while on the couch, alone. You’re so cute. He wants to bottle up your laugh. Why aren’t you back still? His mind doesn’t stop, though.

You hurt me, Sukuna. Why can’t you notice?

I feel like you don’t care about me.

If I hadn't come to you, would you have come to me? Or would you just have ignored this whole argument and acted like nothing happened?

Am I just filling up a random space you leave open for a significant other or am I the significant other that’s capable of filling that void?

That night he dreams of you. The way you glared at him asking him if he was serious, almost like a warning before you lashed out. He dreams of the hurt that flashed in your eyes when he spewed nonsense. And when he wakes up, you’re still not back. Your unfinished plate is still on the kitchen table.

But he’s prideful, that’s why you’re the one that’s always trying to resolve arguments. Yes, you’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You always came back during the 3 years you've been together.

A week passes by and he's going crazy. You haven't contacted him at all, and he didn't text first. He lies to himself saying it's because he's leaving you some space, but the truth is that he's scared. What is he even supposed to say? Hey, I'm sorry, I miss you, please come home? That's pathetic. He's taking a shower when suddenly his phone rings. His heart skips a beat and he rushes out to check if it's you. Please, let it be you.

Instead it's Yuji, his brother.

Yuji: Hey, what happened with y/n? She asked me to come get some of her things for her. Is she sick?

Sukuna frowns. Then he realizes that- you're going to move out. You're going to break up with him.

He goes into panic mode. He never thought about the possibility of you leaving him. He thought you would come back, like you always do. Why would you leave him? Is it because you finally realized that you're better off with someone who knows how to express their feelings for you? Did you get tired of him? Have you already found someone else?

He finds himself knocking on Nobara's door in the next ten minutes. He ran, he's sweating and it's starting to rain. He's out of breath, and he gets his hands on his knees while he waits for you to open the door. He's not ready to let you go. He can't even fathom a life where he doesn't wake up to you trying to get warm between his arms, without you nagging him while watching a film together, without helping you bake cookies while laughing with each other. Without not being able to talk from how in love he is while looking into your eyes. And he knows that if you leave him he's never going to be able to live in his own house ever again, or walk down the street you always do together, or go grocery shopping and not thinking about you while looking at vegetables. You always said you liked vegetables and he always lied about liking them just to see you excited about cooking them together.

"Yuji, I didn't think you'd be this fas- oh," you open the door and your face falls when you see it's Sukuna. He snaps his gaze toward your face when he hears your voice. He missed it so much. You're so beautiful. He missed all of you. So much.

Neither of you move, you just keep staring at each other. This time, he knows he's going to have to talk first. For the first time, he realizes how hard it actually is to confront someone first. Do you feel like this every time?

"Come home," he says. "Please," he adds.

You look sad. "I don't think I'm going to, Sukuna. It's been more than a week and you didn't even reach out to say... I don't even know what. I know you don't say sorry. You never do."

Your words feel like knives. From where you're standing you're taller than him, and he has to look up to look at you. It's like he's in front of the pearly gates of heaven and an angel is making him confess all the wrong things he did, except in this scenario you're the angel and the things he did are just what he thinks about all of this. About you in general.

And you're right, he doesn't usually say sorry. The words get stuck in his throat and he just gapes up at you, still catching his breath. Pathetic.

You sigh, then go to close the door. You don't look at him anymore and he feels like he can't breathe, and not because of the run.

"I'll come get my things next week. Go home, you'll get wet," you say. And your voice is clear, you're not mumbling, you must have thought about this. He sees how hard you're clenching your jaw to appear resolute, your nails hurting your palms from how hard you're closing your hands. But you still manage to worry about him, worry about him possibly catching a cold from the rain. And he loves you. Fuck, he loves you so much.

"Wait," he manages to say. You look at him with longing. With sorrow.

And he feels like he's crying to the angel in his afterlife when he opens his mouth again, thorns in his throat getting tighter, suffocating him. But he doesn't cry here, in front of you, even if maybe you'd like it. You'd probably say that you appreciate him showing emotions, maybe tease him for it, but you'd like it. He'd kiss you while you're still laughing, saying you're stupid, and you'd continue laughing.

"I love you," he rasps out. The words feel so unfamiliar to his tongue, but so familiar to his ears. You always tell him you love him. "I'm sorry for being a shithead. Please don't leave me. I promise you I'll get better at this communication shit," he begs.

You still don't move, but he sees you getting softer.

"Go home, Sukuna. We'll talk about it when it's not raining," you utter.

"No, I don't fucking want to," he snaps. You're startled, and he cringes. He's really not used to all of this. He doesn't like scaring you.

"Fuck, I meant to say I want to get over it right now. I didn't want to scare you. I want you back, Y/N. Please, have me back. I'll get better for real," he says while getting progressively closer to you.

"You promise?" You ask, now shorter than him. You're a step of distance from each other.

"I promise, baby. I'll make you the happiest girl to ever exist," he tells you, looking at you intensely.

"Start by saying you love me again," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He engulfs you in his own arms, inhaling the smell of your shampoo, then snorts.

"Sure. I'm in love with you, brat."

Being in a relationship with Sukuna is hard, but he loves you easily.

[moonstruckme]

Could I request more soft dom Remus!! Maybe reader forgets to take care of her self because she is too caught up in her work and Remus loving sets her straight and just takes care of her🙏🏻 you are lovely my dear❤️❤️

Thanks for requesting!

cw: implied d/s dynamics, migraine

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

The couch springs groan beside you. You reach blindly for the tea Remus has brought you, eyes still on your laptop. 

“Look here, dove.” 

Your head turns before your mind has caught up to it, one hand still typing out the end of a word. Remus is scrutinizing you, your tea held firmly in his grasp. 

“Close your laptop.” 

“What? Why?” 

Remus gives you a look. “Weren’t you just telling me your head is hurting?” 

You chew the inside of your lip, but stand your ground. “Yeah.” 

“The laptop’s not helping with that, darling.” 

“Finishing my report will.” 

“You’re not finishing anytime soon, and the light’s not good for you.” 

He reaches for your laptop, and you draw it closer to you protectively. “It’ll be bad for me whenever I do it, so I may as well finish tonight.” 

“Enough.” Remus’ voice firms up. “Close it.” 

You scowl but do, saying a silent prayer that you remember all you’d wanted to say when you pick it back up again. Remus takes your laptop, moving it out of reach before he finally passes you your tea. The steam feels nice, and though you’d rather die than admit it you can feel the muscles in your face relax almost immediately. You blow on it gently.

A hand on your leg makes you look up at your boyfriend. Remus’ expression has gentled, a softer brand of concern in his eyes where they meet yours. 

“You wanna come here?” he asks. 

He helps you find your way into his lap, one of your thighs on either side of his. He draws slow, soothing strokes up your sides. One hand finds your face, thumb dimpling your lip. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, not without humor. “I know you wanted to keep working, but your body was tired of it.” Remus moves his thumb to kiss you, soft and lingering. “You’re your own worst enemy when you get like this, dove.” 

Your sullen mood gives way easily under the weight of his devotion. “I’m sorry,” you sigh. 

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to take better care of yourself.” He studies your face. “Have you had painkillers?” 

“No.” 

A wry smile. “How did I already know you were going to say that?” 

Remus reaches into his pocket, pulling out a couple of pills he no doubt fetched while the kettle was boiling. He passes them to you, watches as you down them with your tea. 

You watch him back as you swallow, feeling shyer than you did a minute ago. “Thanks, Rem.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He smooths a piece of hair away from your eye. His thumb lands on your temple, beginning to drill small circles. 

If your enthrallment with his touch weren’t enough, the skill with which Remus does the motion would be. It’s hypnotic. Your eyes fall closed, head listing forward. Remus chuckles and encourages it the rest of the way with his other hand on the back of your neck, letting you rest on his shoulder. How could anyone say that soulmates don’t exist, when the curve of his neck seems so perfectly fitted to your face? 

“You’re going to let me look after you now?” he asks warmly. 

You manage a feeble hum of assent. 

Remus is massaging your head with both hands now, deft fingers smoothing over your scalp and working their way gradually towards the tensed muscles of your neck. “Good girl.” Your body goes warm and loose at the praise. Your forehead rests heavily upon Remus’ shoulder. 

His quiet voice takes on an amused hue as he asks, “And what are you going to do the next time your head starts to hurt while you’re working?” 

You whine. “Remus.” 

“I just need to hear it from you once, dove.” 

You sigh. You think for a second that you might just pretend to fall asleep to avoid saying it, but the pressure of Remus’ fingers lessen until they’re barely there at all. He’s waiting for you.

“It starts with a b,” he hints. 

You’re glad he can’t see you scowling into his shoulder. “I’ll take a break.” 

“There we go.” Remus’ fingers resume their work, and you can feel the chuckle brewing in his chest as he turns his head to kiss your temple. “I know we’ll do better next time, won’t we?”

[goldsbitch]

Hello hello! I am still absolutely obsessed with the "Fire" fic you wrote. You are such a talented writer omg, the storytelling, the humour, everything!

So I thought, I have an idea for a funny fic and I'm just gonna send it in LOL I remember Lando saying in an interview that he's really scared when he's the passenger. So what if his GF is speeding all the time and Lando is just internally freaking out and sweating while trying to keep his cool next to her?

Just an idea, if you don't wanna write it that's fine too (:

omg omg omg thank you so much! i'm blushing and i'm scared - hopefully you'll like this one! i added a detail that might be little over the top - but who knows? not me anymore.

I'll drive

"You have a car?!" Lando uttered, forgetting any table manners, the food he had been chewing nearly falling out of his mouth.

Y/N was dead silent, the look on her face strongly resembling a child who lied about cleaning their room and just blushed every toy under their bed.

Her boyfriend gave her a cheeky questioning look, and when it finally set in - the fact she had been hiding the existence of her car from him - he was truly stunned and somewhat amused.

"So, wait. You know how to drive?! Why am I always taking you places?" he asked rhetorically, never actually being bothered by that, but still.

"I don't know how to drive-" she tried before getting interrupted by her father.

"Of course she does, I taught her myself," the jolly man said and patted her on her back with a proud smile. Y/N's face got washed with crocked smile, as if she swallowed something truly detestable.

"No, I do not know how to drive-"

"Nonsense, she's alway been so hard on herself," he father continued. Y/N just sighed.

The young couple came to visit her hometown for the first time. It was lot of reminescing of old times and her school days - a context that Lando very much appreaciated. He had met her as a grown up woman, but that weekend, he witnessed many amusing moments and heard lots of stories that only childhood small towns hold. What did he love the most about this experience? The fact there was nothing for her to do to stop it, no matter how much she frowned. Influx of surprising moments, but this discovery topping all of them.

She saw Lando's perplexed face and tried to save the situation. "I never lied to you, technically you never asked...I just figured you like driving so much, why bother, especially if I am so bad at it..."

Lando was not having it. "Oh, you're not getting easily out of this one," he replied, biting his lower lip, actively having to remind himself of the fact her family was right there. There was something innately attractive about her being so raw and pushed into a corner. Just pure cuteness. "I'm sure you're not half as bad as majority of the people out there," he said, new plans forming in his head. "I think you and I should take her for a spin," he said, referring to the car, and hid his smile behind a glass. Her eyes were piercing his with an energy so intense, it was electrifying.

"No, Lando, I am not driving while you're in the same car," she stated firmly, not breaking the eye contact.

"Come one, sweetheart, it'll be fun," he said, honey dripping out of his mouth.

"It will be anything but that," she said, but Lando ignored that, turning into her father for more information.

"So what kind of a car it?"

The rest of the conversation continued in description of a car Y/N herself could only describe as red, her father telling a story about how he got it for his daughter and how she actually barely ever drove it, which apparently broke his heart.

//

Let's not forget, this was Lando - of course he had ulterior motives. While it was great, spending few wholesome days in the company of his girlfriends family, his frustration grew, because for some reason, she refused to have any intimate activities in her family's house. Why, he had no idea. But of course, he respected that.

She never mentioned anything about not having some nice outdoor sex in a car. He wanted to see her drive and also ride. His perfect afternoon.

Lando is not the best of passengers, often uneasy about the common mistakes casual drivers made. Taking over the wheel is a natural thing for him to do. But, this was an exception he was excited to make - how bad could it be, right? He learned the hard way not to ask that question again.

//

"You sure you don't want to switch places?" she asked, once again, doing everything she could to get out of this.

"Nope babe, passenger seat is the vibe for me today," he smirked, making himself overly comfortable sitting next to her.

She raised her eyebrows. "Here goes nothing, I guess," she murmured and put the keys into ignition.

Lando found it amusing, seeing her so hyper-focused, as if she was launching a rocket ship. To be fair, it was a manual car - so it was close.

Three deep breaths - I fucking hate this, she thought, turned the key and released the clutch. When the car immediately jumped, Lando regretted sitting in his usual obscure way, his head hitting the door with quite a loud bump.

"Told ya," she said and started the car again. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't possibly sell her mistake as an intention.

"You released the clutch too soon," he said while assessing the bump forming on his head.

"Do not give me advice when I drive, makes me angry," she announced and this time actually managed to start the car in a semi-ok way.

Lando watched his bubbly, happy-go-lucky, girlfriend turn into a monster and there was nothing for him to do to stop it.

Everything was somewhat fine when they were still on the quiet roads surrounding her neighborhood. She stopped on the way to the main road, watching two cars that were comically far away and letting them pass. They didn't have to say anything, both knew what the other one was thinking. Y/N knew there was plenty of time for her to join the road before those cars, but the lack of trust in her own abilities was making her wait stubbornly. Lando watched the scenery, amused and starting to understand that in this relationship, his place as the driver was more than secure. She didn't want to be in this position, in fact she was increasingly more mad, that Lando and her father teamed up on her. But since she was where fate got her, she was absolutely not accepting Lando smirking at her.

"I know what you think, we have plenty of time, so I will not be doing some stupid moves to get us both killed," she said and gripped the steering wheel even more.

To prove his point, Lando leaned over her and squirted his eyes and watched the slowly approaching cars. He gave her a sarcastic nod. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," he said, putting his hands in defense.

"You better be, otherwise I'll just yeet us into the ditch."

"Feisty..."

And that was when the line got crossed.

"Fine!" she said, having no control over her emotions, and pressed the gas with new found energy. She turned, almost into a drift, and joined the main road, nearly having the two cars crash into her.

Lando gripped the handle, not expecting her to speed so much. His eyes went wide with realizations - she was the kind of driver operating on emotions. Had this been a racing track and an F1 car, he'd be having more fun, knowing the cars were epitome of safety. He was not so sure about this vehicle.

She had the "Tsunoda" energy and absolute lack of skill to go about it. Weaving, wrong gear almost constantly and not bothered by the sound her car was making.

"You're driving quite close to the lane, baby," he commented, getting more and more worried about their safety.

"Shut up, don't be all smart about it," she said, lips locked in a line. She was focused - not that it helped.

Another hard turn where she missed the right moment to go into it. Lando took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, trying to stay calm.

After few hundred metres, he couldn't take it again.

"I think you're way over the speeding limit," he mentioned.

"That's not what this says," he nodded to her speedometer. Lando leaned over and had to laugh.

"Yeah, that's definitely not correct. Honey, I'm sorry, but the lane - you are too close to it," he said in the calmest tone he could gather.

"My brain does not work like that, I see it more in an abstract way..."

His eyes nearly popped out. "You see the road in an abstract way? Oh dear god."

She sighed, not understanding what was the big deal was. "No like, it's a concept. It's not real, if there is nobody on the road, you can be anywhere."

"I'm pretty sure that's not the case, sweetheart," he said and thought for himself that it could be the case if she knew how to drive, but not like that. "Change the gear, you're burning your clutch."

She slapped the steering wheel. "I. Do not. Accept. Advice. At the moment. Thank you!" she said slowly before going on a rampage. "We both know you're exceptionally good at this, it was your idea, I tried to stop you, so now face the situation and do not tell me what to do because I might panic even more!"

"Ok, ok, calm down," he said, putting his hands up in defense and turning his head away to avoid watching her inventing a new way how to turn the steering wheel.

This sent her over the edge, truly giving up on any rules. She was mad, scared, uncomfortable and kind of hungry to be honest.

Lando stayed silent, worried for his life, regretting his decision and making a mental note to listen to her if she says she can't do something - if they survive this.

A huge bump and a loud noise. She barely managed to keep the car on the road.

"What is that?" she screamed, not knowing what to do.

"Front left tire puncture, retire the car! I mean, shit, stop, over there," he gestured, to the sideline of the road.

//

"Ok, so what now?" she said once it seemed like a decent amount of time for him to stop observing the wheel.

"It's just the tire, I'm sure you've got a spare at the back, right?" he asked and like the gentleman he was, got up and looked in the back for a replacement. When he got it out, he proudly put it in front of her, considering his part of the job done. She stared at him, not moving. "There you go," he said, encouraging her. "They taught you how to do this at driving school."

"Um, yeah. I missed that lesson. Can you do it?"

"How could you miss that lesson?" he asked in desperation. Both of them stood there, waiting for the other to take the lead. It was very unusual for Y/N to see him this passive around a car. "Come on, you must have had a question about this on your test," he pleaded.

And then it clicked. "Lando?" she asked, having a very strange feeling about his behavior. "Do you know how to change a tire?"

He stayed silent, pretending to ignore her question. Y/N's eyes went wide. "Oh my god, you don't know how to change a tire?!" she asked once again, unable to believe that could even be the case. "Isn't that like half of your job?"

"Well no, actually, my job is to drive. There is a whole team dedicated for changing my tires," he said matter-o-factly.

"You're a racing driver. Spend more time in a car than in a bed. And you don't know how to change a tire," she stated and started to laugh. "That's so rich."

He let out a heavy sigh. "I've never actually done it myself. Plus these are normal tires, different system."

"Oh my god," she said, unable to process.

The way how much this whole thing has backfired had Lando stuck. He was suppose to be engaging in inappropriate activities with his girlfriend at this moment. In his understanding of that, it did not include getting his phone out and searching for an online tutorial for bloody tire change. But, there he was. Y/N was suddenly having so much fun, coming off a high that was the adrenaline her body produced during driving. She was free and driving was impossible now. Bliss. In her opinion, this was all Lando's fault - she told him she couldn't drive. Payback time - hopefully Oscar would pick up.

She was dialing her phone, while he was trying to understand how to go about this.

Yes, he picked up! "Hi, this is Y/N," she said in a very serious tone. "Who are you calling?" Lando mouthed, his biggest worry that she dialed up her father and he is now going to have a reputation until the end of time. "Help," she mouthed back silently.

"Hi Y/N," was Oscar's response, the driver being somewhat confused as to why she was calling him. "What's up?"

"Glad you ask. Me and my boyfriend got into a serious situation."

"You and Lando?"

Lando frowned. "Are you calling assistance? We don't need them..."

She ignored him."Yes, I was forced to drive-"

"He let you drive?"

"Forced-"

"What kind of assistance is it?" Lando asked, doubting the whole phone call.

Y/N continued without pausing. "And we managed to get a flat tire, which I don't know how to fix and to surprise of the whole universe, he can't fix as well."

There was only laughter on the other end of the call.

"Y/N, who are you calling?"

Y/N pretended not the hear Lando. "Do you know how to change a tire?"

Oscar was more than amused, knowing he just gained a wild card to use on Lando anytime he would want. "Yes, of course I do. Put me on Facetime with him."

Y/N smirked at her boyfriend, who was still confused and with sparkles in her eyes handed him her phone.

"Oscar says hi!"

Lando blinked, several times. "What? No!...Shit. Hey Oscar," he waved at his teammate awkwardly.

"I have been summoned," Oscar announced, finding this all very amusing.

"Yes," Lando replied, defeated.

Oscar did not wait and took the situation in charge. "First step to do is make yourself seen, guys. You got a triangle?"

"Where's the bloody bucket hat when you need it the most..." Y/N mumbled, having Lando roll his eyes in reaction.

"I'll go and find it and you guys figure this out, ok?" she said handing over the phone to Lando and giving him a little peck on the cheek.

"I hate you," he said with a smile.

"I hate you more," she replied and skipped over to the trunk.

//

After series of creative curse words, one pair of ruined jeans and a celebratory high five, the pair stood once again in front of her car, staring at each other.

"I guess I'll drive us back," Lando decided loudly and waited for her approval.

"Agree. Let's not disturb the gods anymore. You're such a bad passenger princess anyway."

The past hour was filled with lot of conflicting emotions, but the only one that stayed was the love the two shared just by looking at each other.

"I'm sorry I forced you into this," Lando apologized softly. "It was not fair. I see that now."

Her lips turned into a weak smile. "Thank you. And sorry for calling Oscar. I'm sure he won't let you forget this."

He see right though her. "No, you're not sorry about that - I can see the devil in your eyes."

She bit her tongue. "Yup."

It was hard for Lando not to kiss her in that moment. It was impossible for her to resist.

[multicohn]

summary: lewis feels insecure about the age gap between him and his girlfriend when he watches her interact with the younger drivers

warnings: age gap ( not specified )

pairing: younger! fem! reader x lewis hamilton

genre: angst ( if you squint ), fluff

face claim: no one

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

flashback

y/n was busy typing away on her laptop when he walked into the library, lewis didn’t know why he felt like going to one, but did so out of impulse. at the time, she didn’t stand out to him and y/n was just another person that was there when he was. but, then he noticed how the desk she sat at started piling up with more and more books until he could barely see her.

then one day, she wasn’t there.

lewis found himself intrigued by what she was doing — is she a student? if so, what does she study? is it apart of her job? what does she do? he pondered on about the ( hair colour ) girl and wanted to ask, but felt himself slowly lose confidence the longer she didn’t show up.

after a few weeks of being away, lewis once again found himself entering the library and immediately moved towards the desk that the ( hair colour ) girl sat at and was relived to see her, but furrowed his eyebrows at seeing her sleeping.

“hey” lewis shook her gently, but she jumped and immediately brought her fists up. his eyes widened and he took a step back before raising his hands

“just making sure you were alright” she put her fists down in embarrassment before rubbing her eyes

“oh, yeah, sorry. just tired, do you happen to know the time?” lewis looked down at his watch and read the time which made her groan

“i’m going to be late”

lewis wasn’t sure what took over him, but saying the words; “i could take you” should’ve never left his mouth

“i don’t trust strangers” she glared at him and lewis knew he messed up

“do you not know who i am?”

“…am i supposed?” he sat down in the chair in front of her and she raised at eyebrow at his actions

“have you ever heard of formula one?”

“no. are you like a scientist or chemist or something?”

y/n would later search him up once she left and upon realising how famous he was, y/n wanted to dig a hole and bury herself in it. a scientist? chemist? why couldn’t she have just kept her mouth shut and ran away when he tried to start conversation?

y/n had honestly thought that lewis wouldn’t talk to her anymore and at the time was just oddly concerned about her being asleep, but the next day he sat with her and was curious about what she was doing. y/n has never had anyone so interested in her and found it strange, but also oddly comforting. unless, they were adults, y/n never cared much about age gaps and lewis wasn’t particularly worried about such since y/n acted much older. he didn’t even know that she was younger than him until he asked — it did feel a bit strange, but she is an adult, so lewis took a chance and asked her out on a date.

he couldn’t stop smiling when she agreed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

when lewis appeared at the british grand prix with an unknown girl beside him, the internet broke down. they were quick to find out about y/n l/n who is just a simple girl that is currently studying ( subject ) while working ( job ). she was someone who no one could’ve ever imagined dating a seven-time world champion.

she didn’t model, wasn’t an actress or any kind of musician. in the words of fans, y/n is deemed as basic — even her style was non-existent before dating lewis.

“toto” y/n’s grip on lewis’ hand tightened as they walked towards his boss

“lewis” he greeted warmly before looking at her, “this must be y/n, correct? i’ve heard much about you” she shook his hand with a small smile before lewis kissed the top of her head / temple / cheek ( depends on height )

“mick should be here soon with carmen — she’s geroge’s girlfriend — then i’ll introduce to you some of the others” lewis has talked about his friends, both current and former, and was more than happy to finally introduce her to the current roster of racers, but also wanted to take things slow in case she got too nervous

mick soon appeared with carmen and they both welcomed y/n warmly before taking her away from lewis so could get ready for the meeting and race.

~

y/n met a few of the other drivers who were her age or close to and she oddly got along well with them. lewis didn’t understand certain slang or terms y/n used, but she didn’t mind and explained them, but talking with someone who understood her strange humour made her feel less nervous / anxious.

unbeknownst to y/n, lewis was watching her interact with the younger drivers and couldn’t help the feeling that bubbled up within him. she didn’t care about their age gap since they’re both adults, but seeing her get along so well with them made him feel like she might be better off with someone closer to her age; they could understand each other better, the internet might accept them more —

“lewis, mate. do you see your girlfriend? carmen said she left her with ( driver closest to your age )” geroge looked up from his phone to see him nod silently. furrowing his eyebrows, geroge followed lewis’ line of sight to see y/n laughing with ( driver closest to your age )

“oh, there they are” he started walking towards them before lewis could stop him and only sighed before following

y/n lit up at seeing her boyfriend and smiled lightly at geroge who introduced himself. ( driver closest to your age ) quickly said his goodbyes before going towards his garage, lewis hesitatingly grabbed her hand.

geroge noticed and coughed before looking around, “i think i hear carmen calling me” he rushed away making y/n tilt her head in confusion before looking at lewis for an answer, but he just stared at their intertwined hands

“lewis? are you alright?”

it went for a few seconds.

“are you really okay with dating me?”

“wh-what?” y/n asked shocked, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“shouldn’t you date someone closer in age?”

“where’s this coming from?”

“i just thought-“ she cut him off quickly

“i wouldn’t be dating you if i had a problem with our ages. honestly, i don’t care” y/n clarified and tightened her grip

“do you want to tell me what happened to make you think this, again? or should we wait till after the race” lewis shook his head

“just seeing you interact with ( driver closest to your age ) so easily made me think…”

y/n placed her free hand on his cheek and leaned into to kiss him gently. lewis felt the tense release from his shoulders as she pulled back, looking rather embarrassed about kissing him so passionately in public.

“let’s go to the garage, wanna sit in my car?”

“can i really?!” y/n asked excitedly and he chuckled with a nod

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

extra scene:

mick had seemed rather excited to introduce y/n to a certain former driver while carmen had use the bathroom. he greeted him warmly while y/n smiled once she made eye contact with the former mercedes driver.

“nice to meet you, i’m nico rosberg” he seemed rather awkward, but so did y/n as they shook hands

“i know, i’m y/n. lewis talks about you” nico paused and she felt his grip tighten ever so slightly

“he does?” he asked in a quiet tone that even y/n wasn’t sure if she heard him right given the amount of noise around them

“yeah? a lot, actually” he nodded quietly and looked behind her making y/n turn. she smiled upon seeing her boyfriend walking towards them

nico froze as he approached and kissed y/n gently before looking at his former friend.

“i see you’ve met my girl” nico nodded silently as lewis turned his attention to her

“well, it was nice to see you mate” he hit his arm lightly before taking y/n’s hand and leading her away towards the mercedes garage

[holylulusworld]

Alone again - Naturally

Summary: Even around your so-called friend you are alone.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, almost accident, fluff, Lois bashing

Alone again. Naturally.

You should’ve known better than to go out with your so-called friend.

A few years back Lois Lane was your best friend. Now you are only an excuse for her to go to a bar or attend a party without one of her flings.

She always was the one drawing all the attention toward her person. In high school, during your freshman year and after you landed your first job at a cat magazine.

Lois Lane. The rising star.

You have always been in her shadow, and this will never change. If you are shy, meek, and introverted, people easily overlook you.

Just like tonight. Lois is once again the center of the party. She chuckles loudly and bathes in the attention she gets from the men in the room.

You sigh deeply, wishing you didn’t follow her invitation to the party her employer throws only for her.

Her latest article got all the attention, while your job led to nothing but articles about birthdays, other people’s weddings, and missing cats.

Your career is just like your love life – non-existent.

Her laughter fills the room, and when she looks your way you hope Lois will save you from drowning in self-pity. Sadly, she turns her back on you to talk to someone else than you.

She always does this. Sometimes you believe she’s the cruelest person on the planet. Maybe she only keeps you around to show you how much better her life is.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” crap, someone found you standing in the corner. Now you have to engage in small talk. You wring your hands and force a smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Clark Kent.”

“Hi,” you glance at his offered hand and murmur your name. “I’m not working here.”

“I got that,” he flashes you a stunning smile. “I assume one of the gentlemen brought his charming girlfriend with him. A shame he left you here.”

“Oh, no,” you shake your head. “Lois invited me and she’s…” You bite your tongue. This man is a stranger, and you don’t want him to believe you are the kind of person talking behind your friend’s back. “She’s busy and I’m not much of a partygoer.”

“Honestly, I came here to hide in the shadows. I’m not much of a partygoer myself,” he grins and finally drops his hand. “So, what do you do for a living.”

“I’m a…” You are embarrassed to admit that you are working for an unimportant online magazine that barely anyone reads. “I write articles.”

“Oh, I’d like to read some. Where can I read them?” He gives you a soft smile. “Anything I should read first?”

“I write about missing cats and such,” you drop your eyes to avert his gaze. “Nothing important like you and Lois. I guess no one even reads the things I write.”

“I’d still like to read your articles.”

“It’s fine, really,” you sniff, and wring your hands again. “I know that the things I write about are boring. No one wants to know about Miss Fluffy ending up stuck in the neighbor’s car. You don’t want to read the things I wrote about.”

“Never underestimate your talent,” Clark tries to cheer you up, but you don’t believe a single word leaving his lips. “I’m sure you are a very good author.”

“No. I’m not.” Your fake smile drops. “I know my place, Mr. Kent.” You get defensive and step back. “You should go back to the party and talk to more interesting people.”

“What about?” He asks as you try to find a way to sneak out of the room without drawing any attention toward you. “Why don’t you come with me and talk to some of the people in the room?”

“I told you, I’m not much of a partygoer, or good at making small talk,” you wince at your words. You sound like the pathetic loser you are in your opinion. “Uh-I should go now.”

“What about Lois?” Clark takes a step toward you. “Don’t you want to say goodbye to her at least?”

You glance at Lois and quickly avert her gaze. She’s not in the mood to hold your hand or talk to you. “I think she’s good without me.” Your voice cracks. “I don’t even know why she invited me.”

“Wait—” Clark tries to stop you, but you hurriedly make your way toward the exit. “Y/N, don’t just go.”

You are out of breath when you finally leave the building. Feeling like a fool for coming here to watch Lois celebrate another milestone in her career.

Before you can go back and apologize to her for leaving without saying goodbye, you hurriedly cross the street.

One moment you want to reach the other side, and the next a car speeds toward you. You gasp, and close your eyes, waiting for the impact.

You don’t feel the car hit you, and you don’t end up dead on the street. You’re suddenly high up in the air, clutching Superman’s suit.

“You should be more careful.”

“I-“ you look up at the superhero you heard so much about. Rumors said that he was dating Lois Lane not so long ago too. At least you read an article telling you so. “Clark?” You furrow your brows as the same soft eyes you saw not moments ago look back at you. “How…?”

“What? I—” He seems to be confused. You’re the first person to uncover his secret. “Y/N, you can’t just run over the street. That’s dangerous.”

“Okay,” you hastily say. I mean, you are floating above a building, your life in a stranger’s hands, and you won't argue with him. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“You can worry me any time,” he wraps one arm around you to bring you closer to his chest. “How about I bring you home?”

“Does…uh…Lois know about your secret identity?” You can’t stop yourself from babbling.

“No,” he whispers lowly. “I guess she wouldn’t have left Clark Kent if she knew I got a secret,” Clark smirks when you look at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“You won’t drop me, right? I swear I won’t tell anyone about your secret.” You claw at him. “No one would listen to me anyway.”

“Do you honestly believe I’d drop you?” He quirks a brow.

“No…I mean…you’re a hero…right?” You pout. “I didn’t want to find out. It’s just…your eyes give you away.”

“I should wear sunglasses from now on,” he laughs while floating toward the next building to land on the rooftop. “If you promise to not tell anyone about my secret, I believe you. And I won’t drop you, sweetness.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully. “Did you date Lois as Superman too?”

He laughs now. “No. She didn’t know we were the same person. Lois broke up with me for Superman and the stories she wanted to write about him.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” you pat his chest, admiring its firmness. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Sometimes she’s just…” You trail off while patting his chest. “You know…”

“Let me bring you home,” Clark stops you from defending your friend. “Please.”

“Can we…uh…walk?”

“I’m already in my suit and got no clothes to change back into Clark,” he lies. Clark could easily change back into his alter ego, but he’d love to fly you home.

“Does this mean you want to fly?” You suck in a breath. “Do you have a seat belt or something?”

“I’ll bring you home safely, Y/N.” You end up back in his arms. This time you sling your arms around him and hold tight onto Clark for dear life. You close your eyes and hide your face in his chest.

You squeak when he pushes off the building. “Now that you know about my secret, do you want to fly with me again someday?”

“Uh-“ you blink your eyes open but still claw at him. “If you bring me home safely, we can do this again.”

“It’s a date then,” he smiles and flies into the night, making a detour to hold you a little longer…

Part 2: Not alone any longer

Tags in reblog.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Replaced

Summary: Rhysand thinks Azriel has become oldand deserves rest. And while Azriel loves his friend a lot, who the hell does he think he is telling Azriel what to do? The apprentice Rhysand has ordered Azriel to train isn't lessening his frustration either.

•○●⛦●○•

Word count: 1697

Warnings: azzie being a thirsty teenager, reader being sassy, azzie deciding he wants to be a flirty lil hoe lol

A/n: JDVNJDMSNCSDMCN OMGGG I LOVE YALL SOO MUCH I CANT TELL YOU HOW HAPPY I AM RN 😭😭😭 as a thank you gift for you all being so nice and supportive of me for over a year now, i present to youuuu my first fir for the celebration week hehe hope you all enjoyyy 🤭

p.s: I WOULD LIKE TO SAY THIS HERE AS WELL EVEN THO I THINK IVE SAID THIS BEFORE IN PRIVATE TO MY WIFEY POO. @berryzxx THANK YOU MY LOVE MY LIFE FOR LISTENING TO ME RANT ABOUT ALL THE FICS I EVER WRITE BUT ALSO ESPECIALLY THE CELEBRATION FICS AND HELPING ME COME UP WITH IDEAS🥹

p.p.s: based on an indian song i used to listen t nonstop which me and berry concluded i should not have been listening to lmaooo like what even was that 😭

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Any questions?"

Y/n shook her head, eyes fixed on the neat scribbles on the pristine white paper in her hands, going through the schedule handed to her for the tenth time.

"Perfect then," the high lord muttered, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the mahogany wood of the table in his office. "Be on time for your training, starting tomorrow. You know, my spymaster is a rule follower and hates tardiness."

Y/n dipped her head, finally meeting the glittering violet of her new employer, essentially.

She stood, knowing she was dismissed, and fell into a deep bow. "Thank you for this opportunity again, my lord. I might not be a shadowsinger, but I will prove to be an amazing spy."

"Looking forward to working with you, Y/n. Hope you will live up to your reputation."

As Y/n now stood in the training ring, sweat rolling down her body in rivulets, she wished she had asked Rhysand more questions about his spymaster. For starters, she should have asked if the male was a grown adult or a terrifying toddler.

Because by the way the high lord had sung praises in the illyrian’s name, talking about how patient, composed and kind he was, Y/n would have assumed he would be a pleasure to work with.

The overgrown manchild she had been training with was anything but.

As she stared into his hazel eyes, trying not to snap his pretty neck, Y/n wondered if he had serious personality disorder or he was going through some sort of mood swing. Because the male glaring down at her panting form was not the sweet, caring and soft spoken male Y/n had envisioned.

"You still have three laps left, and then hand to hand combat. Or are you as forgetful as you are untrained?"

Y/n straightened her back, her mouth shut tight as she released a frustrated breath through her nose. "I know how many laps are left, thank you very much. I am not old enough to forget things, especially not old enough to be replaced by someone better and younger."

His eyes flashed, his shadows thickening. The side of Y/n’s lips kicked up in satisfaction. Her remarks had found their mark. Without waiting for whatever words he was going to throw at her next, Y/n turned away, sprinting her way through the barely visible dirt path around the training ring.

He looked murderous the next time her eyes met his, but at least he wasn't yelling at her to speed up or your posture is shit.

Even though he put her through hell for the rest of the afternoon, it all passed in a blur, because the moment he turned away from her, his hands flicking in a dismissive gesture, she stalked over to the water station and gulped down two glasses of water.

In that moment, only she existed, the glass attached to her mouth and her parched throat weeping with joy.

Mother, thank you for giving us mere peasants water.

When she was done, she moved to retrieve her jacket discarded near the exit, only to find Azriel still present, now conversing in furious whispers with the Warlord.

Y/n had no interest in engaging with them, and by the way the general glanced at her, worry written all over his face, she knew he would try to corner her.

Swiftly, she picked up her jacket, slung it over her shoulders and began retreating towards where the two illyrians stood, hoping to sneak out of the space they weren’t blocking off when she heard their low voices.

"Still, you’re being too harsh Azriel-"

"If she wanted to be a spy for Rhys, she has to go through this training-"

"She’s already trained to be a spy, Az. quit being an asshole."

"If this is too hard for her and if she is going to go cry about it, then she doesn’t deserve this position."

Y/n stopped and turned to look at the bastard, who had the audacity to stare back with his eyebrows raised.

"Yes?" He grumbled, impatience rolling off him in waves, as if he couldn’t wait to be out of her presence.

She let her eyes wander as she studied the illyrian with the red siphons, then back to Azriel. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Rhys has already discussed the time with you, has he not?"

"Aww, no need to get snappy, princess. I’m just making sure you are not backing out." she pouted, fluttering her lashes before turning away, grinning in triumph at the way his face turned red in anger.

Oh, was she going to have pleasant dreams tonight.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Azriel’s pov.

It had been a week since the fae female started training under Az, and he was beginning to lose hope.

He had put her through as much turmoil as he could, both mentally and physically. Still, she seemed determined to work for Rhys.

Maybe she only cared to prove Az wrong and stay, maybe she just wanted to annoy the fuck out of him.

Whatever the reason, she was resilient.

He put her through hours upon hours of gruelling work in the afternoon heat, yelled at her every chance he got, tried to get under her skin when he knew she would be most tired and likely to snap, put her through every torturous and unnecessary task under the sun. But still, she did not snap once.

Not once did Azriel think she was going to leave, not once did she threaten to leave, not once did she go to Rhys to ask him whether her training was supposed to be this gruelling when she was already trained from Prythian’s best spy training institution.

He was not going to pretend it did not make him respect her. Day by day, his curiosity increased, he wanted to know why she was still training under him, even though he did everything he could to bully her away.

And he was not going to pretend like it did not make him want to get to know her, maybe get closer, because he could not remember the last time a female had piqued his interest to this level.

He could feel it.

Feel himself falling, but of course, like the thick skulled bastard he was, he refused to accept the fact that his respect for her resilience was more than just that.

Sure, she made him wish for a taste, but he was not going to admit that.

He could already hear her soft pants as he got closer to the training area, his lips lifting on the corners unconsciously.

She was standing opposite one of the training dummies, honed in on the battered thing. It seemed like everything else had ceased to exist, like she couldn’t care less about anything going around her as she swung her sword at the dummy, again and again.

Her focus, the determination with which she trained even though her trainer wasn’t present…

It was hot.

She was hot.

She would probably have a sassy remark on her tongue if she knew the thoughts in his head, but she looked like she did not even realise he had arrived-

"Stop looking at my ass. And You’re late."

He glanced up, his eyes travelling slowly over her form as she turned to face him, her hands wrapped around the sword he had made her practice with yesterday. Her chest heaved, her shoulders moving along, the few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail, that smug smile on her lips…

And her eyes. They shone with delight at having caught him being tardy.

Deep down, it warmed him, but on the surface, his lips shifted into a sneer.

"I think this is enough training-"

She let out a laugh. "What?"

He stared at her, unamused.

"Sorry, it’s just… Do you have a fever?"

He sighed as she stepped forward, slapping away the hand she reached out to touch his forehead.

"If you want to continue, I have no problems. Get started, twenty laps."

She smirked. "That’s more like it."

He stared at her, bewildered as she cackled, then stepped closer.

"I think it’s slipping, spymaster."

He blinked. "What’s slipping?"

She rolled to her tiptoes, her mouth dangerously close to his ear. It made shivers run down his spine as his eyes focused on the training dummy on the far end of the ring covered in long slashes, the filling spilling out in a few spaces.

"Your facade." She whispered, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck.

He stiffened. "I don’t know what you mean-"

"Oh cut the crap spymaster, I see right through you."

Az turned his head to meet her gaze. "And what do you see?"

"I can see you, starting to like what you see."

It was like a cold breeze passed through the room, turning his body cold before his heat regulating system turned on again, making him feel hot all over.

"And what do I see?"

Azriel knew his game was over, knowing she knew he was beginning to like her, but he was not going to give in to her easily.

"Me. You see me, Azriel, and you like it." She stepped back, letting her hair loose as she manoeuvred around him. "Pity, you are not getting any of this. Not now, not anytime soon."

He turned on his spot, watching as she stalked away, and he knew damn well she was swaying her hips more than she usually does just to add salt to the wound.

Being a spymaster, he took note of the minute details, of course.

Before she vanished down the stairs, though, she turned to look at him. Her eyes roved leisurely over his figure, and when her eyes met his, she smirked, puckered her lips, blew him a kiss, and then sauntered off.

A challenge.

Azriel wasn’t known to be the most competitive person in the inner circle for no reason.

She had just challenged him, and Azriel would be damned if he lost.

He was going to win this one, and oh was he going to win spectacularly.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[cherriegyuu]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4skP1tuO6F/?igsh=MTNtamg3ZmM1aDgxbw==

Can u plssss make a husband mingyu fic of his daughter absolutely hating his haircut go from long to extremely short causing him to sulk and hate his own hair then y/n having to comfort him😭😭 this video legit reminded me of this instantly idek how

i'm not supposed to be taking requests but this was just something that stuck to my mind ever since i read it. so here it is! i hope you like it! i'm also just in time for his birthday

when he cuts his hair

pairing: mingyu x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 769 warnings: slightly suggestive not proofread

You did your best to contain your smile, or at least tried to hide it, as your daughter cried into your shoulder, her small tears soaking your shirt and her hands balled into tiny fists in your hair. Under normal circumstances, you’d have taken her hand away but in that moment, it seemed like the only option to have her calm down. 

Your husband sat on the couch, the blanket you kept on the back of it wrapped around his head and shoulder, as his eyes were two full moons in his face. Mingyu was a mixture of laughter and unwashed tears as he watched your daughter cry into you. 

“I didn’t know” his voice came out in a whine, his hold on the blanket tightening “I thought it would be okay”

Mingyu had left the house that morning saying “I’m going to cut hair, I’ll be right back”. He had kept his hair longer for almost a year and it was probably one of your daughter’s favorite things about him — that and also the fact that Mingyu even existed. “Not only does she look like you the most but she also loves you the most” you’d half-heartily complain sometimes. 

It became some sort of routine, if she fell asleep with Mingyu around, she’d most definitely have her hand in his hair. Logically and rationally you knew that Hanna wouldn't like the new haircut, but you also didn’t think that it would be that much of a big deal. What you also didn’t expect was for Mingyu to come back with the shortest hair you have ever seen on him. 

You had known Mingyu for roughly twelve years and he always kept his hair on the longer side. While the sight was a fantastic one, Hanna didn’t seem to share the same idea. 

She ran to the door excitedly the second she heard the sound of keys on the lock to greet her dad. She had the biggest smile on her face and then it just disappeared as she took in her dad’s new look. Her small features contorted and her eyes filled with tears and she ran back to you, hiding behind your legs.

Like he usually did, Mingyu kneeled to welcome the hug that always came but this time there was none. 

You wished you had recorded the whole thing, the way Hanna started to scream her lungs out because “not daddy” and Mingyu was a few seconds away from crying. 

“Hanna” you cooed “you don’t want to say hi to daddy? He missed while he was away”

She shook her head.

“Not daddy,” she said again, the new tears coming down her face.

It took you a good hour to get her to settle down and sleep. Her body still shook with sobs when you put her in bed. 

Mingyu was in the living room, in the same exact position as before, the blanket still wrapped around his head. His eyes were sort of lost until he finally seemed to notice you were back. Once again his eyes were filled with tears. 

“Babe, no, it’s fine,” you said, approaching him. 

When you were close enough he pulled you to him, hands around your waist and his head resting on your stomach. Slowly you pulled the blanket away from him and ran your hand over his hair. There wasn't a lot to hold onto, there was barely any hair in between your fingers, just a little more at the top for a quiff.

“She hates me now,” he complained.

There were these moments when it was hard to tell who was actually the 2 year old and who was the grown man.

“She doesn't, she just needs to get used to it. You're her favorite person” you assure him “She's just surprised. When you left there was hair in your head”

Mingyu groaned at your laugh.

“I just wanted to try something different”

You held his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. Mingyu rested his chin on your stomach, beautiful dark eyes looking back at you.

“Do you like it, at least?”

You bit your lips, trying to keep yourself from saying that maybe you didn’t like it as much, that your favorite hair was that middle ground between short and longer. 

“You look younger” your words were slow, a little careful.

He groaned, pretending to cry, his arms getting even tighter around you. 

“Both of you hate it”

You bent forward and placed a kiss on his nose and then his lips until his pout was replaced by a smile. 

“At least there’s a little bit to hold on to”

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[zegrasdrysdale]

[ like you hate me ] e. edwards

day 7 of kinktober (hate sex w/ ethan edwards)

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : she can’t stand ethan, but she knows there is tension between them that she can’t ignore anymore when they collide at a party

warning(s) : smut ! rough / hate sex, p in v, protected sex, nicknames during sex, begging, mentions of alcohol, light alcohol consumption

author’s note : i couldn’t wait to get to this one bc i had so many ideas hehe

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't be here, but she let her friends talk her into coming to the party. Hockey parties don't usually end well for her whenever she does decide to attend them.

Especially if she runs into him.

Ethan Edwards is the bane of her existence and the biggest pain in her ass. He has the biggest ego she's ever seen on a hockey player, and he's had it for all four years that she's known him. He likes to mess with her during classes they have together and distract her from keeping her solid 3.8 GPA. He likes to mess with her in passing and make jokes every time he sees her. He even makes her job as the hockey team’s social media admin very difficult and she’s growing tired of it.

Maybe she won’t even run into him. She can avoid him in his own house. It won’t be that hard with every girl throwing herself at him and distracting him from the fact that she’s there.

The hockey house is off campus in a suburban area of Ann Arbor about 15 minutes away from main campus. It’s already crawling with partygoers when she pulls up in an Uber about an hour after the party was scheduled to start. Music blasts from every open door and window and she questions how they haven’t gotten cited yet for loud noise.

Inside is so crowded she can barely walk. She squeezes past multiple athletes from different sports in the foyer as she makes her way to the kitchen to get something to drink. If she’s going to be in the same building as Ethan then she needs to have a little alcohol in her system. God knows what’s going to happen and what words are going to be exchanged if their paths cross.

In the kitchen stands three of Ethan’s closest friends. All with an arm around some girl. Luca is the first to notice her walk into the room. He immediately smiles at the sight.

"Holy shit," he laughs. "She makes an appearance. I can't believe it. I thought you would never show your face at a hockey house party."

She shrugs while she makes herself a drink with cheap vodka and a mixer. "I was coerced into coming," she tells him. She looks up at Luca, Mark, and TJ. She sips her drink. "Where's your friend? Hiding upstairs in his room hopefully?"

Mark laughs and shakes his head. "He's around," he replies. "Last I saw him, he was out back playing cup pong with Duker, Moldy and Schiffer."

"Now I can avoid the back," she says with a smile. "Thanks."

All three of them laugh as she turns and leaves the room. She makes her way into the living room. Her friends sit on the couch so she sits on the arm of the chair next to the person she'd consider her best friend. She leans back and sips from her cup.

People come in and out of the room constantly, but she loves being able to see everyone and socialize with whoever does come into the room. She talks to people she hasn't seen or spoken to in a little bit.

She's laughing at something her friend said when she watches the one person she didn't want to see walk into the room with Luca and Mark. They better not have snitched on her to him or she will make sure they hate the Monday Question next week.

Ethan's eyes land on her and she quickly averts her eyes. She looks at her friend and pretends to be invested in the conversation so maybe Ethan won't walk over and bother her.

Except, that plan fails. Before she knows it, Ethan is standing in front of her. He has the smuggest of smirks on his face when he approaches her.

“A little birdie told me that you were trying to avoid me, princess” he tells her. “Is that true?”

She could kill Luca, Mark, and TJ for snitching on her.

“So what if I was?” she questions as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’ve told you to stop calling me princess.”

“You’re in my house, princess,” Ethan retorts with a grin on his face and emphasizing the word ‘princess’ just to annoy her even more. “You don’t get to ignore me in my house, and I can do whatever I want because it is my house.”

“Says who?” she asks. “I can ignore whoever I want, their house or not. You're annoying and I like your roommates better anyway."

Ethan quiets down but he doesn't take his eyes off of her. She doesn't back down either. She holds her ground because she doesn't want him to think he's won. That's the last thing that she wants so she holds eye contact with him until he speaks again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands her ground.

A smile breaks out on his lips and she falters for a very quick second. "I knew you had a crush on one of my roommates," Ethan says. "Which one? Luca? Mark? I hate to break it to you, but Mark has a girlfriend. So does Hughesy. Oh my God. Do you have a thing for a guy who has a girlfriend? That's a little pathetic if you ask me."

She rolls her eyes, her blood beginning to boil after his comment. "You're such an asshole, Ethan," she tells him.

She then gets up out of her seat and walks upstairs to hide in one of the bathrooms for a few minutes while she cools down.

If someone were to ask her why she was so upset, she would say that she honestly has no idea. Something about Ethan Edwards just heats her blood. He riles her up, and it could be the smallest thing that does it too.

All he did was mess with her, and she's ready to punch him in the face. She's always ready to punch him in the face though, but it's often not because she's angry at him. Sometimes it's because he's genuinely one of the most attractive people she's ever seen. Just his face alone is enough to send her into a bad mood.

If Ethan wasn’t a massive pain in her ass, she probably would’ve hooked up with him by now. Maybe it’s what she’s wanted all along and the reason why she hates him so much. He’s infuriating, but he’s hot. It’s a dangerous combination, especially for her.

She splashes water on her face to cool down and does her best to fix up the makeup that came off with the water. It’s not a lot thanks to the inventor of waterproof makeup but it still runs just a little bit.

A knock rings through the bathroom and she calls, “One second!” There’s a second knock and she groans. “Do you not know what one second mea-” She freezes when she sees Ethan on the other side of the door as soon as she swings it open. “Oh, great. Just the person I want to see. Go away, Ethan.”

“I may have crossed a line,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“You just keep adding on to the list of what you think I am, don’t you?” she retorts. “Annoying, nerdy, clingy, and now I’m pathetic despite not having a thing for a single one of your roommates, especially not the ones who are in relationships. Making that comment in front of everyone was embarrassing. Even for you.”

Ethan just nods and looks at her. “I know that,” he tells her. “It wasn’t until you walked away and Luca told me that what I said was wrong that I realized that I crossed the line.”

She runs her fingers through her wavy locks and lets out a soft sigh. “This wouldn’t be an issue if I just-” She cuts herself off from what she was about to say.

There’s tension. There’s been tension. She ignores it like it’s going to go away on it’s own but the innuendos and jokes have made it thicker than it’s ever been. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore it. Maybe if she just-

“Just what?” Ethan questions. She meets his eyes and finds confusion in them.

Do it. Get it over with.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she cups his jaw and pulls him down into a bruising kiss. Ethan has to take a little step toward her due to how hard she pulls him down to her.

He immediate pulls away in surprise. She stares up at him, but she doesn’t move her hands. Her eyes flicker between his like she’s searching for rejection, but that’s the one thing she doesn’t find. She finds deliberation and confusion.

Just in case he needs a little shove, she says, “We have been doing this whole back and forth thing for nearly four years, Ethan. You have to be as tired of it as I am. I feel the tension that’s grown so I’m sure you can to. This is the one and only time I’m offering this to you so we can just fuck it out and maybe end whatever feud thing that we’ve had going on. Worst comes to worst then we have a nice hookup and we can move on with our lives. Best case scenario, we get it out of our systems and we can actually be friends because-”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up, princess?” Ethan asks to cut her off.

She isn’t able to make a comeback because Ethan’s lips are back on hers before she can respond. He’s kissing her with the same intensity that she originally kissed him with.

His hands fall to her waist and he pulls her body flush against his chest. She feels every muscle flex underneath his thin shirt as he makes little movements to adjust to her height. She’s half a head shorter than he is so he has to make some adjustments to kiss her without breaking his neck. Eventually, he gives up and leans down to lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and slides her fingers into his hair.

Ethan turns and walks out of the bathroom. Luckily the hallway is dark so if anyone were to see them, they would think it’s just two people making out at a party. The door is kicked shut and her back is pinned to it. A soft thud is heard when her back makes contact with the wood. She hums when her skin hits the cool surface.

She kicks off her heels and they land on the carpeted floor with soft thuds. Ethan stands holding her back against the door for a second before he turns and walks toward his bed.

In the handful of times she’s had to come into this room, it’s been organized and in order. She gets a glance when the kiss breaks after he drops her on the mattress and finds it’s still very organized and in order. She would’ve never guessed that Ethan is one to keep things clean in his room.

Ethan kicks off his shoes before he climbs over her and hovers above her body. She immediately pulls him back into a hot kiss. He hums and a hand lands on her thigh. The already short black dress rides up her thigh until it rests right under her ass. His fingers follow the fabric up her leg. He grips her thigh and she gasps.

Her fingers slide down his back until they reach the hem of his Michigan hockey t-shirt. She tugs at it to hint that she wants him to take it off. Ethan listens to her signal and sits back on his knees, breaking the kiss. She watches as he pulls the fabric over his head.

Now, she’s seen him shirtless on numerous occasions. There have been times where she’s seen him in nothing but his boxers, but she’s always looked away. Right now, she gets to look. She takes full advantage of the moment and studies every part of his torso and chest. Ethan’s never been the biggest guy in the room, but his body is so toned. She could combust just from the view she has right now.

She gets her hands on him as fast as she can. Her hands start on his torso, tracing his abs before they trail up and over his chest. Ethan’s hands rest on hers when they reach his shoulders. He pulls her up so she’s sitting up with him between her knees. Their chests are flush against each other and she’s looking up at him.

Ethan hooks his fingers under the thin straps of the little black dress. He tugs them off her shoulders and she pulls her arms out of the straps. She keeps her eyes on Ethan as he pulls the top of her dress over her boobs. He gnaws on his bottom lips when he sees her tits.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “You hid these from me this entire time?”

“You never asked to see them,” she tells him. Ethan moves his hands to cup her bare tits. “Probably would’ve showed you if you asked, E.”

He grins and pushes her until she’s lying on her back. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She hums at the feeling. Ethan’s other hand gropes her other boob. He bites down on her bottom lip. She runs her fingers through his hair.

After what feels like seconds later, Ethan begins to kiss down her chest and stomach. He pulls the dress down as he lowers himself down her body. She lifts her butt up so he can get the dress off. It hits the floor and she presses her lips into a line as Ethan drinks her in.

Her hands slide between them and she works on getting Ethan’s pants off. She pushes his pants off his body and he kicks them to the floor. She gets a hand on the bulge in his boxers, palming him over the thin fabric. He snakes a hand into her lace panties. She hums at the feeling of his fingers cupping her sex.

She grinds her core against his fingers trying to get some pressure. She presses her lips into a line as she pleasures herself on his hand. Ethan slips a finger into her and she gasps at the new feeling. "Oh my God," she breathes out. "Warn a girl next time."

Ethan smiles and attaches his lips to her jaw. "We'll see," he mumbles against her skin.

Slowly, he works her toward an orgasm. A knot forms in the pit of her stomach like it always does when she's close to an orgasm. Soft groans pass her lips when Ethan adds a second finger. "I- fuck," she pants. "Ethan, Eddy. Please."

"Please what, princess?" Ethan asks.

"Fuck me like you hate me," she tells him. "Please. Please fuck me, E."

He pulls back and looks at her. His fingers stop moving in and out of her. A grin forms on his swollen lips. "Are you begging me to fuck you?" he questions. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would beg me for something."

"Ethan Edwards, I'm about to get up and go get Luca-"

"Oh I don't think so," Ethan interrupts as he goes into his bedside table to get something. He pulls out a little foil package and comes back over to hover over her. "You're going to take off the rest of your clothes and I will give you the best dick you've ever had in that pretty little pussy."

His words go straight to her core and she listens to him almost as soon as he's done talking. She slides off her ruined panties and Ethan takes off his boxers to slide on the condom that he pulled out of the drawer.

She lies down on her back and lets Ethan settle above her. He lines up at her entrance and she stares up at him. Ethan meets her eyes before he pushes into her. She gasps from the stretch and grabs his triceps. It's painful at first but quickly turns into pleasure the longer he's inside her. He slowly pushes into her until he's completely buried inside her.

Once the pain completely fades, she nods at him. "Go," she tells him.

As soon as he has her permission, Ethan rolls his hips. Her jaw drops as he slowly picks up speed. The pleasure is so much that she nearly blacks out. Her nails dig into his triceps so hard that she's pretty sure he's going to end up with marks on his arms.

This is the last thing that she ever expected to happen. She never thought she would be underneath Ethan and getting fucked by him. She doesn't know if she'll ever tell him this because his ego will grow bigger than it already is, but it might be the best sex she's ever had. It's a quick hookup but it's already better than the rest of the hookups she's ever had, not that there are that many to compare it to.

She wouldn't be against it if this were to ever happen again.

Ethan continues to move deeply into her, but his movements pick up speed. The bed creaks and the room his filled with the soft moans that pass her lips. Ethan pants as he continues to move.

She starts to move her hips to match his pace. "Holy shit," she cries out when the tip of his dick hits her favorite spot. "Ethan."

"Like that, baby?" Ethan pants. "Like feeling my dick inside you? Making you feel good?"

He slams into her once and she arches her back off the bed. "Yes!" she gasps. "Yes, Ethan. God. Fuck."

With her response, Ethan slows down but hits her spot over and over again. Her legs begin to shake as she reaches the edge. The knot in her stomach threatens to come undone.

Ethan leans down and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. She groans as she feels her entire body clench. She squeezes around his dick as she comes and cries out against his lips. Her hands find his hair and she grasps, needing something to hold onto.

She feels like she's on cloud nine as Ethan fucks her through both of their orgasms. Her body goes limp under his when he pulls out to dispose of the used orgasm.

He cleans both of them up with his shirt before he collapses on the bed next to her. Her breathing is labored but is slowly returning to normal.

When she finds the strength to move, she turns her head to look at him. Ethan's already looking at her when she looks at him.

"I never hated you," Ethan admits to her. She raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean it. I never hated you. I thought it was cute how flustered you got every time I messed with you so I kept doing it not knowing that it meant that you didn't like me. That was me trying to express my feelings but it was definitely the wrong way to do that."

She blinks at him. "You've said some hurtful thing to me, Ethan," she tells him. "I'm going to need some time to get over that but ... I think I'd be okay if we tried to be friends. I wouldn't be opposed to this either."

"I knew you always wanted me," he teases.

"Shut up," she replies as she leans in to kiss him.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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[steviesbicrisis]

Steve’s best relationship wasn’t even a relationship. He could barely call it a fling, a flirt. They never even went on a date. They never kissed.

Steve still thinks of it as the best whatever-it-is he has ever had with someone.

At the beginning it was mostly infuriating, how quickly Eddie managed to win the kids over, compared to Steve’s months of work as babysitter/nailbat swinger/monster fighter. Steve had to literally bleed multiple times to get an ounce of respect, Eddie only had to run a nerdy club about fictional bleeding and monster-fighting.

Then somehow, and Steve still has trouble pinpointing when and how it happened, everything changed.

Taking the kids back home from hellfire became something he impatiently waited for.

He and Eddie would barely talk for a few minutes and he would find himself replaying the conversation in his head for days. Anything he could say to get a reaction out of Eddie became fundamental, and if he started by picking subjects to piss him off, he ended learning about Eddie’s favorites, because few minutes after hellfire were never enough and Steve needed Eddie to talk as much as possible, until the kids were begging to drop it and go home.

Steve never questioned the change, most likely out of fear. He doesn’t think he ever was clueless, just really scared about what would potentially mean to be staring at another dude’s eyelashes as he goes on a rant about why Ozzy Osbourne is the best artist of his generation. Or blush whenever said dude would call him “baby”, or “sweetheart”.

Steve convinced himself that the thing he and Eddie were having was as good as it was going to get, nothing more.

Then Chrissy Cunningham died, Eddie ran, and Steve realized that the thing will never be enough for him.

He couldn’t not have Eddie. Not watch him as he entertains a bunch of freshmen, as he stomps with his worn out sneakers on top of forniture, as he puts his terrible music on to push away anyone who doesn’t care enough about him to stay.

Steve needed to see Eddie being alive, doing what his heart desires, and he needed to be next to him when he does.

Obviously, this realization came at the worst possible time.

Steve tried to tell him so many times: when they found him at the boathouse, when he was hiding at refer Rick’s house, when they were taking a stroll in the upside down, and even when they were driving a stolen trailer to a gunshop.

But, it seemed, Eddie had come to a realization just as important and he tried his best to avoid Steve at every given chance.

Steve tried to initiate the conversation as Eddie did his best to run away from it. And he ran until Steve had no chances left to tell him how he actually felt.

———

Steve doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say he lost something he never had. To mourn a relationship he never began. A partner that, technically, never became a partner.

After Eddie dies, Steve has no one to be next to but he can’t say he ever did.

Steve just exists waiting. He can’t tell if he’s waiting for the pain to go away or for Eddie to jump out of a bush and yell “ah! I got you sucker!! By the way, I’m in love with you too.”

For obvious reasons, that never happens.

What does happen, is a call.

It’s a normal Tuesday, as normal as you could define it after Hawkins almost collapsed into the upside down. Steve got into a routine, between checking on the ones at the hospital, helping out at the shelter, allowing Robin to check on him to see if he’s still alive.

The call happens while Robin is doing her kitchen check up - aka making sure he has food and that he’s eating it-, so she picks the phone like she did a million times before.

“Harrington residence, this is Robin” she says, cheerfully.

Steve doesn’t pay much attention to it as he’s folding his dad’s old clothes that intends to donate to the shelter, until he hears Robin’s loud gasp.

“What is it? Is it the hospital? Is it Max?” He rushes to the other room where Robin is.

She doesn’t answer but she gives him a look as she passes him the receiver.

Steve goes quiet, a million thoughts going through his head as he takes the phone from Robin.

He’s still unprepared when he hears that unmistakable voice “Baby”.

Steve gasps for breath “Eddie?”

Is that really you? What happened? Are you hurt? Isn’t this impossible? Is what goes on in Steve’s head, but he ends up just asking “are you okay?”

He can hear a chuckle, Eddie’s wicked chuckle, a further confirmation that it is him, “I’m- hanging in there… are you okay?”

Steve finds the question absurd. He isn’t the one who got left in the upside down, the one that got eaten by demonic bats, the one who died before Steve had the chance to tell him how he felt.

He answers truthfully nonetheless, “I’m… I’m not okay.”

“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Please Eddie, come quick.”

“I’ll break the sound barrier for you.”

[topguncortez]

Pink Skies - J. Seresin x Shy!Wifey

whumptober masterlist || previous day

Prompt: "Leave No Trace Behind, Like You don't Even Exist"

synopsis: The Seresin kids have all come home, but not for the reason they wish it was for. Jake has to face his hardest challenge yet, saying goodbye to the love of his life. Based on the song "Pink Skies" By Zach Bryan

warnings: MAJOR character death, implied suicide, dying of a broken heart, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of postmortem body tampering (does not happen, but it is a concern that is brought up), mentions of parental death, grieving process.

word count: 4.3k

“The kids are in town for a funeral. So pack the car and dry your eyes.” 

Alex let out a deep sigh as he parked his car in front of the one place he had been dreading coming back to. Ever since getting that call, he had waited until the last possible moment to make the trip down from Lemoore. He would’ve put it off longer, showing up the day of, but a tearful call from his sister told him he needed to be back sooner. 

The house felt cold as he turned the knob, the only sign of life was the misplaced shoes by the front door and his dad’s truck in the driveway. He had been back a few weeks prior, helping do some odd end things while his dad attended to his mother, and even then, the house still felt warm and lived in. Now, this house felt anything like the childhood home he had been raised in. 

“Elle!?” Alex shouted, hearing voices and clattering from the kitchen. 

“In here!” His sister called out. Her blonde hair looked like a halo around her head as she turned to greet her brother, “Hey,” Her smile was bright, well as bright as it could be as she pulled him for a tight hug, “How are ya stranger?” 

“Been good,” Alex nodded stiffly, pulling back from his sister, “Where’s everyone else?” 

Ella sighed, stuffing her hands in the back pocket of her jeans, “Eli and Stella are at Val and Javy’s. I sent the twins to go grocery shopping and Dad is um. . . at the funeral home with grandpa and grandma.” 

Alex nodded again, watching as his sister got back to work cooking whatever meal she managed to scrounge up. Even though she had the looks and personality of their father, Ella Seresin was her mother to a t. She was the one who spent hours in the kitchen helping make meals and bake. Alex sat down at the kitchen table, glancing briefly at the various hospital bills and sympathy cards that had gathered there. Flowers had also started to gather around the kitchen, and he guessed that Ella also took care of all those. 

“Where’s Piper?” Ella spoke up from stirring something on the stove, “I swear Dad must have been photosynthesizing these past two weeks. I barely had the basic ingredients for spaghetti.” 

“She’ll come down tomorrow with Billie.” 

“God, I miss that girl.” 

Alex did too even though it had only been a day since he had seen his little girl. Her big blue eyes, soft blonde curls and big smile could make anyone in this situation feel better. All he wanted to do was curl up with his girls by his side. 

The two eldest Seresin kids sat in silence as Ella continued to work on dinner. Alex missed the days of being so near his siblings. Him and Ella had always been two peas in a pod, though their personalities varied greatly, they always leaned on each other when they needed one another. Alex could remember those late nights, sneaking back through the backdoor after being at a party they shouldn’t have been at. Their mom, somehow, always knowing that they had left, would leave a plate of cookies, water, and tylenol on the kitchen counter with a note: 

“Cookies gone, means you are home. Wake me if you need - love, mom” 

How Alex wished he could turn back time and get a plate of her homemade chocolate chip cookies again. 

The silence was broken with the sound of the garage door opening, followed by the rambunctious sound of the youngest Seresin boys. Jasper and Maxwell Seresin stumbled through the door, grocery bags lined on their arms. Jasper’s blonde hair was long, hitting past his shoulders while Maxwell kept his cut short in a fade. Their eyes both widened seeing their older brother sitting at the table. 

“Do I have to like, salute you or some shit?” Maxwell asked, and Alex chuckled. 

“No you shit head,” Alex smiled, standing up and walking to his younger brother. The boy set the groceries down, embracing Alex in a hug. Alex fought back the sting of tears as he hugged him. Being almost 10 years apart had its positives and negatives. Alex got to watch them grow up with a whole new perspective, but he also missed out on those vital years when he went to the academy. While Maxwell decided he too, was going to join the military, getting into West Point (something that surprised the whole family when he applied), Jasper was going to NYU to major in music (also something that surprised the whole family). 

“Missed you bro,” Maxwell nodded, pulling away from him. 

“Missed you too,” Alex said, “And you,” He looked at Jasper, “Looking like fucking Fabio.” 

Jasper chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “Someone had to live the California lifestyle.” 

“Get over here,” Alex chuckled, pulling him into a hug too, “How are you guys? Doing. . . okay?” 

The twins looked at each other, it was a loaded question with about ten different answers they could give. The easy answer was to say “yes, we’re fine,” but they knew that would be a lie. Instead, they both just shrugged, grabbing plastic bags from the ground and beginning to put them away. Alex shot his sister a look, who also just shrugged. She knew them better than he did, having stayed in San Diego for college, completing ROTC before going to flight school and becoming a pilot herself. As much as Alex envied his sister for living the dream that he wanted, he was mighty proud of her. Only a handful of women were pilots in the Navy, and an even smaller number were TopGun pilots. 

“I’m making spaghetti,” Ella said, trying to cut the tension in the kitchen, “Should be ready soon. Anyone heard from Dad? Eli?” 

“Eli said he’s staying at Aunt Val’s for dinner, but will be home for dessert,” Jasper chimed in, “You did make dessert, didn’t you?” 

“The fuck I look like?” Ella sassed, “Betty Crocker?” 

“Mom would’ve made dessert,” Maxwell said. 

And just like that, the tension filled the kitchen once again. Ella looked around, trying to fight back the burning sensation of tears in her eyes. She was yet to cry, and she told herself she wasn’t going to start crying over a comment about dessert. She sniffled, blinking back tears as she looked up at the ceiling, seeing that there was still a crack in the foundation that her dad was supposed to fix years ago. 

“You’re right,” Ella nodded, “And she would’ve let us take turns having a spoon of batter.” Ella clapped her hands, “Alright, pretty sure I wrote down the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Help me get them started?” She looked at her three brothers, who all nodded and helped her find the items. 

— — — 

“I know they’ve got plenty of young blood left in them”

It was dark by the time Jake had returned back to the house. This day had been more exhausting than the past three had been. Who knew there were so many details to decide on for a funeral? Jake was thankful that he had sat down and gone through all that so many, many years ago, putting it all in a manila envelope he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. He was slightly pissed that she had never thought of doing that, but then again, no one expected to one day just die before their life was truly over. 

Jake was surprised when he opened his front door to be met with the sound of laughter and soft music in the background. His house had been quiet for so many days that he had somewhat started to get used to it. He tossed his keys in the bowl by the front door and toed off his shoes, before making his way to the kitchen where he was met with the sight of his five children, all sitting around the table, all laughing. 

“Oh my god,” Eli shook his head, tears in his eyes, “I don’t remember that at all.” 

“Oh I do,” Alex said, “I thought Mom was going to ground my ass for days. I did everything I could to glue Bucky’s urn back together.” 

The whole table burst back out into laughter, not a single one of them paying attention to their dad in the doorway. It felt like old times, and for the first time in a week, Jake felt like his heart was beating in his chest again. There was warmth in the house that he once considered his home. 

“Hey dad,” Ella said, tipping her wine glass to him, “Alex was just telling us about how he and Eli decided to play football in the house and broke Bucky’s urn.” 

“It wasn’t me! It was Maxwell!” Alex pleaded, “I was just supposed to be babysitting.” 

Jake chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. Y/N had been in near tears when she came home to her eldest son sweeping up the ashes of their beloved family pet. Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing over the phone as she tried to explain. 

“Surprisingly, that’s not the worst phone call I got while at work,” Jake sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting next to his daughter. 

“Oh yeah?” Eli challenged, “What was the worst?” 

“Rooster Bradshaw telling me that my wife had my son on our bedroom floor.” 

— — — 

“So clean the house, clear the drawers, mop the floors, stand tall” 

Jake hated packing. 

Over the course of his military career, he had packed up and moved with a moment's notice. Before he had met Y/N, all his personal belongings had been what the Navy had issued him, plus a handful of civilian clothes and things to go out in. It was easier that way, to shove all his stuff into those navy blue duffle bags and leave for his next assignment. But Y/N had changed all that the moment she came into his life. 

He had never felt like he could settle down, that he could actually put things on his walls, and buy furniture and have an actual house that was a home, and not the standard issued living quarters the Navy had. When he had asked Y/N to move in with him, the first thing she showed up with was a welcome mat to place in front of the door. Jake could remember smiling so big, his cheeks hurt, before handing her his credit card and telling her, “make this place your home.” 

Now, Jake sat in their bedroom, a cardboard box at his feet as he wondered where to start cleaning. He had decided last night that he was going to sell the house. It didn’t feel the same knowing that his wife wasn’t going to walk through the door anymore or spend hours upon hours in the backyard building the garden of her dreams. Their children were all scattered across the country, Ella and Alex in Northern California, Eli in the midwest, and the Twins on the East Coast. Sure, the kids were upset when Jake had told them that he was selling their family home, but they knew it was for the best. Alex had immediately opened his doors for his dad to come live with him. 

Jake sighed, shaking his head and standing up from the bed. The bedroom was going to be a job for another day. 

Jake walked downstairs, where his kids were busy making piles of things to keep and things to give away. He smiled as he watched them reminisce about different items they found; pictures of them as kids, old sports trophies, art projects that hung on the fridge. 

“Hey, who is gonna get the door?” Jasper asked, as he was wearing an old baseball team hat. 

“Oh shit yeah,” Maxwell nodded, “What are we going to do with the door?” 

Alex shrugged, “It's part of the house.” 

“Yeah but, it’s the door,” Jasper whispered, “We all got measured on the door. Hell, even Bucky and Steve got measured on the door.” 

A pang of sadness hit Jake as he looked toward the front closet door. Jake could remember holding a very small, toddler Alex against the door as Y/N marked his height on his first birthday. It had been a tradition ever since then, each Seresin child (both human and furbaby) got measured on their birthday against the door. Jake didn’t say anything as he walked into the garage, grabbing his tool kit. His kids all stared at him as he walked in, opening the closet door and began taking it off the hinges. 

“Dad. . .” Ella called out to him, but the look on his face told them he was determined to get this door off the hinges. Alex stood up from his spot on the floor, going to Jake and helping him. Once the door was off, Alex leaned it against the wall, tears in his eyes. 

“So,” Jake huffed a breath, looking over at his kids, “Ella, there was no way you were four-one on your eighth birthday.” 

Ella ended up taking the door home. 

— — — 

“If you could see ‘em now, you’d be proud.” 

Ella couldn’t remember the last time she had dug her dress blues out of her closet. It had to have been for her Uncle Mav’s funeral years ago. She wasn’t shocked to see them outdated, with her old rank and ribbons still on them. She hated wearing her dress blues. Nothing good ever came from wearing dress blues. 

It wasn’t very often that civilian funerals got honored this way. But when your aunt is the commander of the Pacific Fleet, some calls get made. The moment Grace “Dragon” Bradshaw got the call about Y/N Seresin, she was pulling out all the stops she could. Dragon had called Jake, telling him that she was sending a unit to stand by Y/N’s body, until she could be moved to the funeral home. It was the least she could do, given all Y/N has done over the years. Sure, being a naval aviator was hard work; flying missions at top speed, spending months at a time in the middle of the ocean, working your body to its physical and mental limits, wondering if you are going to make it home alive. But being the one at home, having to take care of the kids and the house and the animals and everything else, was also hard. 

How Y/N did it, was beyond Dragon’s knowledge. Raising five kids while Jake was gone for extended periods of time. Dragon could remember the first time she had to deploy, leaving behind her husband and son, Cash, she thought she wasn’t going to make it through. Dragon had called Bradley in tears, totally ignoring the time difference, begging to see her son. It was even harder for Dragon after the birth of her daughter, Noa. 

Jake sat on his bed, his hat in his hands. His thumb rubbed along the worn edge, trying to find the strength to put it on and go down stairs. He was thankful that Dragon had gotten this honor for his wife, knowing the sacrifices she had made during his time in the Navy. He never imagined that there would come a day, him still in the Navy and Y/N not here. Every plan that they ever had, the things they had dreamed about doing once the ink dried on his retirement papers. 

“I want to get one of those pull-behind campers,” Y/N said as they looked up at the stars one night, “My parents did about a month-long camping trip when dad retired. I want to do that.” 

“Sweets, we can do anything you want,” Jake said, looking at her like she had hung the moon. It took a strong woman to stand next to a military man, and an even stronger woman to have a family with him. If a month-long camping trip to the middle of nowhere was what she wanted, then that’s what she was going to get, “I’ve never been up to Yellowstone, or the Grand Canyon.” 

“You’ve never been to the Grand Canyon!” Y/N gasped, looking over at him. 

“No,” Jake shook his head, “We were going to go but we got called out.” 

Y/N sighed, looking down at her hands. There were a lot of trips that they never got to go on because of Jake’s job. She hated it, but would never admit it outloud, how many things Jake had missed over the years because of the Navy. The births, the birthdays, the first steps, the first days of school, the vacations, the first dances, the first breakups, the college acceptance letters. Jake knew that she had a small resentment for what he did, it was normal, but she never held it over his head. 

“Well, it’s not that cool,” Y/N said, trying to play off her sadness, “It’s like a giant red hole in the earth. And the kids really didn’t like it. Eli cried the whole time and Ella scraped her knee falling in the parking lot. Totally skippable.” 

Jake gave her a small smile, reaching over and grabbing her hand, “Totally.” 

Standing up from the bed, Jake ran his fingers through his graying blonde hair. He remembers joking with Y/N, shortly before her death, that he was happy he was going gray and not losing his hair. But he wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to lose it now, after the past couple of weeks he’s gone through. Jake walked down the stairs, pausing at the sight of his five kids, all of them in various different military dress uniforms, Alex and Ella both in their Navy dress blues, Eli in his Army pinks and greens, and then the twins in their very best black suits with lavender ties (Y/N’s favorite colors). 

“Oh Sweets,” Jake whispered, “You would be so proud of them.” 

And Y/N was beyond proud of her kids. She had jokingly gotten those car decals that say “Proud Military Mom” and “My Daughter is in the Navy!”, putting each of them in the fridge. The kids hated them, blushing in embarrassment every time someone would point them out, but Y/N was so proud of them. She even managed to find a “My Son is going to NYU!” sticker for Jasper. 

“Dad, are you ready?” Maxwell asked, looking up at his father. Out of all the kids, Maxwell turned out looking the most like his mother. 

Jake just nodded, walking the rest of the way down the steps and towards the garage. The kids all looked at each other, before following him out. Jake decided to ride to the funeral with Ella and Maxwell. Piper Trace, Natasha and Luke’s daughter, and Alex’s wife, had come down yesterday with their daughter, Billie, the other day. Though Jake loved his grandchild, he just couldn’t muster up the energy to keep up with her. Eli and Stella rode in another car with Jasper. 

“Your funeral was beautiful. I bet God heard you coming.” 

The funeral was exactly how Jake had planned it, or slightly planned it. He doesn’t remember much about sitting in the funeral director’s office, trying to make decisions on things like what color casket and flower arrangements and songs to play. But everything was perfect, from the flower arrangements to the eulogies the kids gave. When it was Jake’s turn to speak, he removed his hat, placing it gently on the head of the casket. 

“I’m not sure if I can find the right words to say,” Jake started, looking at the large portrait of his wife, “There’s no right words to explain what it feels like to lose the love of your life. Though we’ve been together for half the time we’ve been alive. . . it still feels like we didn’t get enough time. And some days, I’m not sure if I can live without her.” 

It felt like a constant battle for Jake. Getting up every morning and looking over, finding her spot on the bed still made. Seeing her clothes still hung up and put away. Sitting on the couch, waiting for her to walk in with her hands full of either flowers or floral magazines having to get things ready at the shop, or hustling in to grab a quick bite of dinner before dashing off to whatever child’s event she had to go to. There were days, where Jake felt like he was so in the dark, that he would never see the light. That was, until his kids came around. 

Jake’s eyes shifted to his kids, who all sat in the front row, their partners and children sitting behind them, “Your mother was perfect. In every single thing she did. She was perfect. She would lie and say ‘I’m not perfect’, but she was. There will never, ever, be another person like her. And I’m so lucky that she took a chance on me. Even when I messed it all up, she still took a chance on me. There’s going to be a hole in my heart, for the rest of my life.” 

When the funeral was over, the family had a small, private burial. Jake picked a plot that was near Nick Bradshaw, Maverick and Iceman’s plots. Y/N only knew two of the three men, but it still felt right burying her near there. It felt like family, it felt familiar, it felt like the right pieces to the puzzle, putting her there. Each of the five seresin kids sprinkled a bit of dirt on the dark mahogany casket, as it was lowered into the ground. Ella had tried to get her dad to leave, but Jake wanted to stay until the very last moment. 

“Dad,” Ella said softly, placing her hand on his bicep as the groundskeeper started to lower the vault lid, “Come on, Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob are hosting the luncheon.” 

Jake shook his head, “I can’t leave her here like this.” Jake hated thinking about it, but he wanted to make sure that Y/N’s body was left alone, that she was buried and entered in peace, not having been tampered with. Ella frowned at her dad, leaving his side and getting into her car, her feet aching in her dress shoes. Once the dirt had been packed on top of the grave, Jake turned and got into his daughter’s car. 

He was thankful that Bob and Bea decided to host the after funeral meal at their house and not his own. Jake had stayed for a little bit, catching up with old coworkers and friends. He didn’t really have much to say to them, other than he was thankful that they came to the funeral. Jake never realized the amount of people that Y/N had met over the years or had created some impact on. People from Lemoore, Pensacola, Hawai’i, and even from overseas had flown in when they heard what had happened. 

“I’m going to go home,” Jake said to Alex, whose arm was wrapped around his heavily pregnant wife. It was like deja vu, watching Alex and Piper interact. 

“Okay,” Alex nodded, “Do you need me to drive you?” 

“No,” Jake shook his head, looking around at the people at the table. It was truly like a blast from the past. All at the table sat a kid from every dagger squad member; Alex Seresin, Stella Machado, Cash Bradshaw, Piper Trace, Josephine Floyd, Mickey Jr Garcia, and Jordan Fitch. It filled Jake’s heart with joy, knowing that the next generation was as close as he is to his friends. 

“Ella said I can take her car,” Jake said, “Stay here with them. You guys don’t see each other enough anymore.” 

Alex nodded, looking back at the group of kids he grew up with, “Yeah. We’ll be home soon to put Billie to bed.” 

“Take your time,” Jake said, patting his son’s shoulder, before leaving. 

It was only three weeks later that Alex found himself pulling up to his parents house. The same familiar feeling of dread filling his body as he put his car in park and grabbed his duffle bag out of the back. Ella, of course, was already there, trying to make the best of a sad situation. Just as before, the house felt cold and unwelcoming as Alex kicked his shoes off, by his sister’s misplaced ones. 

“Ella?” Alex called out. 

“In here!” She called back from the kitchen. Alex stopped in the doorway, giving his sister a sad smile, “Didn’t think we’d all be back so soon.” 

“Neither did I,” Alex sighed and wrapped his sister up in a tight hug.

It was a lie, Alex knew the last time he saw his dad, that it wasn’t going to be a long time until they were all called back here. Alex felt a tad guilty, the morning that he left, with a box full of stuff from the house, his wife and child in tow, watching his dad’s retreating figure out the rearview window. He wished he would have stayed. He wished that he would have convinced Jake to come up to Lemoore with him. To get some time away from the house, away from the memory of the love he had lost. Jake was stubborn, giving his son the promise to visit soon for the birth of his next grandbaby. But instead, Alex got another tearful call from his sister, begging him to come back home. 

“He said he couldn't live without her.”

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