#I am supposed to go meet The Baby next weekend!

[tonguetyd]

I swear to GOD if I am getting sick from NOT seeing Green Day I am going to SCREAM.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

It Started With A... || CarLandOscar

Summary: Whoever thought love was limited to one person was an idiot. Love had no limits and you knew that better than most when a rookie found himself carving out a third of your heart. Warnings: established relationships, fluff, angst, pining. WC: 7.5k

It started with a smile. It was stiff and polite and made you pity the rookie who was being introduced to everyone so fast he would surely forget their names. 

“It took me a few months, but you’ll figure out who is who,” you encouraged him as the welcome committee went back to work in the factory and Oscar looked for guidance on where he was meant to go next. 

“I hope so. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” he admitted sheepishly. “Are you in the PR team?”

You looked down at your black skirt and white blouse and thought you probably did look like someone from PR or legal. “Contrary to belief, I am actually what people would call a PR nightmare,” you said as you held your hand out. “Y/N Y/L/N, Lando’s girlfriend.”

“It's nice to meet you. I suppose I’ll see you around here a lot then.”

You smiled ruefully and shook your head. “I’m studying at Royal Holloway but we wanted to be here for your first day so we stopped by.”

You looked around for Lando and found him returning from the cafeteria with a takeaway coffee cup in his hand. “I wondered where you went,” you teased as you happily accepted the hot drink and the kiss he placed on your cheek. 

“Figured you needed this, love. I kept you up pretty late for a school night.” Lando nudged Oscar and winked. 

The Australian’s ears turned pink and you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's humour. “He was steaming until some ridiculous hour this morning. You’ll probably find him crashed out on a couch somewhere this afternoon while I will be struggling through lab tech.”

“You’re the smartest person I know, I don’t think you even need to go to class.” Lando tipped your chin back, giving you a deep kiss without care that his new teammate was watching the interaction. “We should go, love, don’t want to make you late again. You want to come for a ride too?”

“Shouldn’t I go inside?” Oscar asked as he looked to the double doors that led into the employee only section.

“They want us to do a few icebreaker promo vids to get to know each other so you’ll just be waiting around for me to get back anyway.”

“You should probably get used to that, he likes to keep people waiting,” you joked. 

“When have I ever kept you waiting?”

“I’m still waiting for a win.”

Lando chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. “I’m working on that. Hard.”

You cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb over his pouting bottom lip. “I know you are, baby, and it’s gonna come.”

Oscar cleared his throat and jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “I can just go wait inside.”

“Nah, come on,” Lando said as he grabbed his keys from his pockets. “You should see where her classes are in case there's an emergency.”

You frowned in confusion. “An emergency?”

“Yeah, like if I’m running late.” Lando draped an arm over your shoulder and led the way to the handful of reserved parking spots near the front door. “It’s only 15 minutes down the road.”

Lando opened the passenger door to his Range Rover and you glanced at Oscar who just smiled and opened the back door. “I’m okay back here,” he said as he climbed in. You settled into your usual seat but adjusted it to give Oscar’s longer legs some extra room. 

The drive took a little longer with the tail end of rush hour traffic but it seemed to pass quickly with Lando and Oscar making small talk. You could almost feel Lando’s excitement vibrating off him when he spoke about the upcoming season while Oscar was far more reserved. You quickly understood that he was merely the quiet type, not that he wasn’t excited. 

“You should come over for dinner,” Lando said, one hand resting on your thigh while the other steered. “I’m heading back to Monaco this afternoon but I’ll be back for the weekend.”

He squeezed your leg when he caught your eyes dropping down at the reminder. “It’s only a few days, love.”

“I know, doesn’t stop me from missing you.”

Oscar tried to turn his attention to the scenery out the window, feeling intrusive in the intimate moment, but Lando caught his eyes as they glanced over you. “Oscar could keep you company. Maybe you could show him around Surrey?”

Oscar’s eyes widened as if he had been caught red handed and his cheeks flamed again. “I, uh, sure, I mean, you’re probably busy studying though.”

“I can make time. I actually get through it a lot quicker without this distraction in the house. Who would have thought?”

Lando gasped, “Me, a distraction?”

“Mhmm, you always need attention, baby. But that’s okay, I still love you.”

“Good to know.” Lando dropped a lopsided grin and winked before pulling up to the front of the Science Block. “I love you too, and don’t forget Carlos is picking you up this afternoon.” 

You leaned across the gearbox and kissed Lando farewell before turning to Oscar. “It was really lovely to meet you.”

“You too. Should I get your phone number?”

“Asking for my girlfriend’s number in front of me,” Lando scoffed. “Mate, that’s fucking rude.”

You slapped Lando’s arm and he burst out laughing. “You should have seen your face. Classic.”

You smiled apologetically to the Aussie. “I’ll put it in your phone,” you offered as you held out your hand for the device. You quickly entered the number and hit the green icon until your phone rang in your pocket before taking a selfie and adding it to the contact. “There, now you’ll remember who the name belongs to.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, taking the phone back. “I would’ve just put ‘Lando’s Missus’.”

“I like that, you can still update it,” Lando chuckled. “It’s a good title.”

“One I’m still waiting for,” you said as you waved your empty ring finger. The movement drew your attention to the watch on your wrist and you swore as you saw class was about to begin. “Bye, baby, have a safe flight.”

You bundled up your bag but when you reached for the door it was already opening and you gave Oscar a quick hug as you stepped out. “Bye, Osc.”

Half the students had disappeared into the halls and you speed walked up to the heritage building where you would spend the first half of your day.

Lando watched you walk away while Oscar took the front seat. “You’ve done something right,” he commented as he put the SUV in reverse, “it took me two weeks to get a nickname.”

A dark blue Ferrari was surrounded by dozens of students when you left your last class and you cradled your textbooks tighter, prepared to bustle your way in. Carlos had been keeping an eye out and was quick to spot you leaving the building. He moved assertively through the crowd and met you at the edge of the circle so he could use his body to shield you. 

“Nice and inconspicuous,” you teased him when you were safely deposited into the passenger seat.

“Sorry, hermosa, the flight was delayed. I didn’t have time to go home and switch cars.” He drove slowly as the last of the fans moved aside and tried to peer through the tinted glass. “How was school?”

“I didn’t fall asleep, so there’s that,” you said with a yawn and felt Carlos’ hand close around yours as you closed your eyes. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Carlos lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles before resting them on his lap. “Lando said you made a new friend.”

You smiled and opened your eyes to see Carlos glancing across the car as he sped along the highway home. “You two are the worst gossips. Oscar’s nice. I think they will get along well as teammates.”

“Better than me?”

“No one could beat you and Lando as teammates, baby, that was pure magic.” You rubbed soothingly along his thigh to reassure him. “I don’t know if he will get more vocal as he gets comfortable but I get the feeling Oscar is just a quiet person. He’s very different from Lando, and you and Daniel, which could be a good thing.”

Carlos chuckled to himself. “It sounds like you have spent a lot of time thinking about him.”

“There may have been moments,” you admitted. “But there was someone I thought about a lot more.”

A wicked grin grew and Carlos’s hand drew yours higher up his leg as he turned onto the narrow lane that led to the private property Lando had bought. Set halfway between the McLaren factory and your university, it was the idyllic spot to live and Carlos could fly in from the Ferrari HQ in Maranello whenever he had free time, or, when Lando didn’t want to leave you on your own. 

“And who exactly did you think about?” Carlos asked as the front gates opened. “Was he handsome?”

“Very, very handsome, with dark hair and a sexy accent. And he’s so fucking fit, I could break my teeth on his abs,” you hummed happily as the car pulled into one of the few spaces left in the large garage. “I could go on and on about him. Charles is just-”

“Cha-“ Carlos’ foot fell heavy on the brake and the car jutted to a sharp stop. “Charles!”

Your giggle filled the empty car as Carlos ran around the front and opened your door. The world tipped over as he grabbed you out of the seat and tossed you over his shoulder, swatting your ass as he marched you into the house. 

“I’m sorry, I was joking,” you spluttered between laughing and gasping as he spanked you again. “I was thinking about you, doing something surprisingly similar to this actually, just less clothes.”

The world spun again as he tossed you on the bed and caged you beneath his body, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. “You hurt my feelings, mi amor.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist and combed a hand through his thick dark hair that had grown in the week he had been gone. “Then let me make it better.”  

It started with a text, asking if you had any recommendations for the local takeaways. It was Oscar’s cheat day and you were feeling like you could use a little pick me up of greasy food so you offered to show him your favourite spot. Carlos had been called away a day earlier than planned so you had the whole house to yourself and its grand size always seemed scary on your own. 

The buzzer from the gates sounded and you hit the remote button to open it after, swearing as you realised you lost track of time. Open textbooks covered the kitchen table and highlighters were strewn amongst them as you tried to colour code the notes you had made on post-its. It was a mess, but it was too late to clean up as Oscar knocked on the front door.

“I promise I didn’t forget you were coming, I just thought I had time to finish my homework first,” you said as you opened the door and waved him in. You looked down at the grey sweatpants that came from Carlos’ drawer and the hoodie that came from Lando’s, not quite what you had planned to wear into town. “Obviously, I thought wrong. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just get changed real quick.”

“You don’t have to get dressed up,” he said as he took his shoes off and closed the door behind him. “I’d rather you be comfortable.”

You smiled at the sincerity and gave him a quick hug, inhaling the musky cologne that clung to his shirt. “You’re sweet, Osc, but you’re a rookie and it shows.”

He frowned as you pulled away and started to head to the stairs for the second floor where the bedrooms were. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You paused at the bottom step and looked over your shoulder. “You’ll see in an hour.”

The chicken shop had been almost empty when you entered before the dinner rush but there was a crowd growing outside. You were used to having cameras pointed your way after publicly dating Lando for over two years, but Oscar had only shot to fame in the last month when his infamous tweet aired on Drive to Survive. He hadn’t been known outside of the smaller F2 circle but now he was a household name. 

“I see what you mean,” he said as he did his best to ignore the people knocking on the glass. 

“You get used to it, eventually.” You popped a hot chip in your mouth and chewed it while you watched him, a small frown tugging his brows together. “The trick is deciding early on what your position is.”

“What position?”

“With the fans, the paparazzi, all of it.” You glanced at the window and waved. “When we started dating, Lando tried to protect me from them and hide our relationship but they were like sharks after blood. We found we had more privacy if we acknowledged them, then they just moved on.”

You didn’t try hiding with Carlos so no one ever dug too deep into it. Everyone just assumed you were close friends given how close Lando and him were too. It was easier for everyone to believe you were just friends.

Oscar turned to the glass window and forced a smile before waving to the children. Cameras flashed as the fans got the face shots they wanted and then they dispersed back about their day, with the exception of a few stragglers. “Huh. Are you sure you’re not in PR?”

“I’m sure,” you said with a smirk. You weren’t joking when you said you were a PR nightmare - if the world found out about the unorthodox relationship between you, Lando and Carlos it would be. “I have just been through it all before so I can be your personal guide.”

“Thank you.”

You pushed the leftover plate of fries his way knowing he was probably like every other driver who had the ability to consume three times their weight in carbs on a cheat day. “You can thank me with another dinner date, it beats going cross-eyed studying.”

“I’m not sure your boyfriend would appreciate that,” he said as he dragged the plate of fries closer and finished the last of them.

“Lando appreciated what makes me happy, and he’s secure enough to trust what we have isn’t going anywhere.” 

The idea was foreign to him and you could see the doubt he had about it, but he settled instead for a polite, “That must be nice.”

“Your PR team is going to love you,” you chuckled as you grabbed your wallet to pay. “A driver who actually keeps his thoughts to himself, that’s a rarity.”

Oscar’s long legs quickly overtook you and he had some cash out ready. “I invited you,” he said with a stern look that caught you by surprise. “I’m paying.”

Raising your hands in defeat, you smirked and slipped your wallet back into your handbag. “Yes, sir.”

You watched his eyes linger on your lips before he shook his head of the wayward thought and led the way out of the store. “So what do you usually do when Lando is in Monaco?”

“Carlos usually comes and keeps me company, or I just study. Not exactly the epitome of excitement but it’s my last year and then I’ll go to Monaco too.”

Oscar quietly accepted the knowledge without questioning it, though you could see them swirling in his eyes. He wanted to know about Carlos but he was too polite to ask, or maybe he knew it wasn’t something you could answer. “Well, you have my number so if you get sick of studying you can always call me.”

"You can call me too, Osc.”

Term break arrived with as much turbulence as the plane you took to Austria. On one hand you were excited to be able to travel to a few races but on the other you nervously awaited two assessment results and continuously checked your phone for updates until Carlos locked it in the hotel safe. “You can get it back when you promise to relax.” 

“I won’t relax until I know what I got,” you argued but between him and Lando they distracted you well enough, for a while at least.

“We need to get going,” Lando reluctantly said as he climbed out of bed and tried to restore some control over his mussed hair. “You can have your phone back, but just so we can contact you, not so that you can worry about your damn exams.”

Carlos laughed as he unlocked the safe that also had your passports and valuables stored. “I’m sure she will listen to you,” he said as he handed the phone over and saw the unread text messages from Oscar light up the screen. “Though maybe she won’t have time to check her emails now.”

The two managed to shower in a matter of seconds before they reappeared and sorted through the pile of clothes on the floor, tossing red one way and papaya the other. 

“Is Oscar on his way?” Lando asked when he was dressed and ready to go to the track. 

“He’s already there,” you replied, barely looking up from the messages that were coming in rapidfire succession except to kiss Lando goodbye. “And he said you’re going to be late again if you don’t hurry up.”

“I was on time yesterday,” Lando grumbled, pulling his shoes on as he hopped to the door. “I just looked late because I was the last to arrive.”

“Better than coming too soon,” Carlos joked as he leant down to give you a kiss too. “See you later, mi amor.”

You arrived at the track just before the driver’s parade began, when everyone was too busy making their way to the grandstands so the paddock was much easier to navigate. The results had been posted and a smile had been plastered on your face since seeing the grade, but you wanted to tell Lando and Carlos in person. 

“Hey, you’re actually here.” The aussie twang greeted your ears before you turned and found Oscar opening his door opposite Lando’s. “I was starting to believe you were a figment of my imagination.”

Oscar opened his arms and you stepped into the hug you were pretty sure you had trained him into expecting every time you met. He was already in his fireproof skins and they hugged every inch of his torso so you could feel the muscle that lay beneath. 

“I got in last night,” you said as you brushed a hand through his soft hair and giggled when it flopped back over his forehead. “How has your week been?”

“I’m pretty sure you know almost everything that’s happened.” Referring to the hundreds of texts that were religiously exchanged. 

“It’s not the same without seeing your face, I can’t tell if you’re lying or not.”

He tucked your head back into his collar and held you a little tighter. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“You would if you thought it was protecting me.”

He didn’t have a response for that, at least not before Lando’s door opened and he leaned against the panel with an amused look on his face. 

“Are we celebrating or commiserating, love?”

You had completely forgotten why you had come to the building and a bright smile lit up your face as you bounced on the balls of your feet. “A+, baby.”

“Knew you could do it!” Lando wrapped his arms around you and, incidentally, Oscar too. “Fuck the diet, we are going out tonight.”

You looked up at Oscar. “You’ll come too right?”

“Of course he’s coming,” Lando answered with a wink. “Gotta thank the guy that looks after my girl when I’m away. She would never get her nose out of a book if you didn’t take her out.”

You had quickly learned that it didn’t take much to make Oscar blush and Lando loved to make it happen. 

“It’s no problem,” Oscar murmured as he scratched his heated neck. 

Oscar understood more than anyone why there were always rumours about Carlos. Every time pictures were snapped of you and the Spaniard, or all three of you, the gossip began anew. After spending quite a bit of time with you over the last six months he had his own fair share of rumours but he knew nothing had happened with you. It was hard not to gravitate closer to you or to hug you at any given chance - there was a magnetism he couldn’t explain and he didn’t want to fight it. 

“You saved me from total starvation on numerous occasions,” you praised, rising on your toes to kiss his pink cheek. “My hero.”

Oscar’s face grew another shade deeper and he tried to change his racing thoughts to something other than the feel of your lips. It was impossible, he was too far gone and was helpless to his own feelings that wanted more than you could offer. He couldn’t even look at Lando after the betrayal he had just imagined doing. That was his teammate and you were his boyfriend.

“I’m going to head to the garage,” he choked as he took a step back and grabbed his balaclava from his room. He could feel your eyes in him as he left and when he reached the end of the corridor he turned with a frown as he realised he had missed something. “Congratulations on the grade, you deserve it after the effort you put in.”

Those eyes he had come to love in the last six months softened and you smiled. “Thank you, Osc. Good luck out there.”

It started with a kiss. While Lando and Carlos were celebrating the points they had earned, you were keeping Oscar’s glass full as he stewed in his mind over what he could have done better. You could almost see the calculations running through his head as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass and it was like he couldn’t even hear the music in the nightclub. 

“If you don’t drink that I will, and you don’t want to see what happens to me when I have whisky,” you warned him. 

He looked at the glass and sighed, putting it down. “I think I should just call it a night. You should go have fun with them.” You followed his sight to Carlos and Lando jumping with the crowd, Lando’s mouth moving with the words and Carlos’ arm draped over his shoulder.

“They can keep each other company, I want to be here with you.” You took his glass and lifted it to your lips. “Last warning…” The liquor burned down your throat and you rushed to take a gulp of your fruity cocktail to wash away the taste before a shiver rolled down your spine. “Oh god, how can you drink that?”

You poured another glass from the bottle on the table and held it out until he took it with a small laugh. “It’s meant to be sipped, not shot,” he clarified before drinking a small amount.

The whisky hit your stomach and you felt warmth spread across your skin. The bar menu suddenly became a necessity and you fanned your face with the cardboard as the flush reached your hairline. “We should dance.”

“I, I’m not a good dancer,” he said, looking concerned at the idea.

“No one is good at dancing,” you pointed out, the crowd basically just jumping to the beat or moving side to side. “Just follow my lead.”

He accepted your hand and you grinned triumphantly as you towed him to the dancefloor before turning and stepping closer to his body. Your hands came to rest on his chest and you swayed your hips to the beat before realising he really did need to be led because his hands were still limp at his sides. 

“You can touch me,” you teased as you grabbed his hands and put them on your hips. “Just relax and feel the rhythm.”

Oscar’s fingers flexed when he felt you start moving again, your body brushing against his, and he released a shuddering breath when you turned in his arms and tipped your head back on his shoulder to look up at him. 

“You okay?” you asked as you watched his blue eyes darken in the laser lights.

“You’re beautiful.”

You turned to face him with one of those smiles of pure joy that always made his day better and he forgot about his poor race result. He could hardly breathe when your hands roamed his body, climbing the thick column of his neck to rest on his racing pulse. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out when you rose on your tiptoes, eyes closed and lips pursed to give him one of those sweet kisses on his cheek.

Someone knocked into him and he turned to growl a warning but then your lips were there, pressed to his lips and he lost the words. Time slowed to the space between one heartbeat and the next as he savoured the sweet taste of your drink, unable to stop himself from taking a little more. 

You had kissed his cheek enough times to memorise the feel of them and knew it was not what you were kissing. A soft gasp slipped past when his tongue parted your lips and your fingers found themselves tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as your body yearned for more.

“Uh-oh, someone’s had a bit of frisky whisky,” Lando purred in your ear.

Oscar startled back and wiped his lips that were the same shade as your lipstick. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it was an accident. Someone pushed me,” he stammered as he looked around but had no idea who had barged into him when there were hundreds of people in the club.

“Relax, mate,” Lando said with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. You cozied into Lando’s arm and tried to process what had happened while your lips tingled from the kiss and your heart fluttered. “It’s the whisky.”

You wanted to tell him the whisky hadn’t kicked in yet but kept quiet as Oscar exhaled in relief. Hiding your face in the crook of Lando’s neck, you screwed your eyes shut and pushed away the image that told you he had regretted the kiss. The knowledge settled in your gut that twisted and turned and you gripped Lando’s shirt harder at the rejection. 

“Can we go?” you begged quietly. “Please?” 

Lando kissed your forehead and nodded. “Okay, love, let me just tell Carlos.”

Your hands were left empty as Lando darted back into the melee to find Carlos who would probably stay until the club shut down. For the first time since meeting him you felt awkward in Oscar’s presence knowing you had made him uncomfortable. You didn’t know what to say and it was clear he didn’t either as he buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed as you took a step away, hoping the crowd would swallow you whole.

When you woke the next morning for a moment you could pretend it was some strange dream, or nightmare, until Lando blinked his sleep eyes open and pulled you into his arms. “Good morning, beautiful.” The timbre of his voice when he was just waking could always bring a smile to your face but your lips merely wobbled and he sat up concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I fucked up, with Oscar.”

“Baby, it was just a kiss and you were both drunk, I’m sure he’s probably already forgotten about it.”

The thought that he could forget something that to you was so profound only compounded the ache in your chest. You didn’t want him to forget, you didn’t want him to regret, and you voiced as much to Lando as you cried in his arms.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmured softly as he wiped away your tears. “I think this is a conversation we should have with Carlos.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you grumbled, tearing yourself from his embrace. “It wouldn’t work out anyway.”

Lando got up and followed you to the bathroom as you turned the shower onto the hottest setting. “Why wouldn’t it work?”

“You and Carlos are best friends, and while you are always close to your teammates I know he doesn’t have the same interest in Oscar.” You stepped under the cascade and welcomed the burning heat that rained down. “I don’t want to lose what we have by wanting more.”

You didn’t hear Lando leave as the steam fogged up the glass and you let your head fall against the cold tile wall. He left you to your thoughts and gave you the space needed to reconcile your feelings to the past.

It started with a phone call. The urge had woken you from a deep sleep and you couldn’t shake the need to reach for your phone and dial the number you knew by heart. It had been a good weekend for the McLaren team with double podiums both in the Sprint and Grand Prix. The two third place caps were hung on the post of the bed as testament to the productive weekend but Lando had gone to bed deflated. 

Oscar had won his maiden race before him. A rookie had done what he had waited years for, what he still waited for. 

“Hello?”

You had assumed the call would go to voicemail after ringing for so long so you weren’t prepared to hear Oscar’s sleepy voice in your ear.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay, is everything alright?”

You swallowed and shook your head before remembering he couldn’t see. “I just wanted to say congratulations, I thought you would still be out celebrating.”

“There’s no one to go celebrating with,” he said so quietly you wondered if it was even meant to be said out loud. 

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure what for exactly but you felt the need to say it anyway. It was about the only thing you had said to him in weeks. “I should let you get back to sleep.”

“It’s, uh, it’s good to hear your voice,” he admitted and you a little bit of the weight on your shoulders eased as you realised whatever you had wasn’t completely ruined.

“You too, Osc. Good night.”

“Night.”

It was naive to think that one phone call could repair the divide that had chasmed between you because when you returned home for your last semester you still felt his absence everywhere. There were no daily text messages, or invitations to dinner, no sudden appearances as you left class. He was a memory that haunted you and it was always worse when both Lando and Carlos were away.

Four Months Later

It started with a bouquet. The small card was almost lost in the overflowing explosion of blossoms that left a sweet scent in the air but when you flipped it over your heart skipped a beat. Congratulations, OP x 

You were still smiling just as brightly an hour later when you arrived at the graduation ceremony to receive your Honours degree. You had kept the bouquet with you and inhaled the fresh scent as you waited for your name to be called. A loud cheer erupted from the rows where Lando, Carlos, your friends and family sat but it was the lonely cheer at the back of the hall that caught your attention. 

Unfortunately it may have been a hopeful hallucination as you didn’t see him again after that or at the celebration Lando threw for you at home.

“Pack your bags, baby, it’s time for Monaco!” Lando engulfed you in a hug and spun you around so your ceremonial robes billowed out and you clutched your cap to keep it from flying off. “I’m so selfish, I can’t wait to wake up to you every fucking day.”

Another set of arms tugged you away and you fell into Carlos’ embrace. “I’m so proud of you, hermosa.”

You were practically a marionette the way you were passed from one person to the next until finally the bottles of champagne ran dry and the party came to an end. You collapsed onto your bed with a giddy laugh that the long journey was finally over and you toed your heels off, letting them fall to the floor. 

“You can’t sleep in your dress, amor,” Carlos chuckled as he walked into the room with Lando after locking the house up. 

“Then you will have to undress me,” you teased with a beckoning finger that faltered when you saw Lando had the bouquet in a vase that he had found downstairs and he placed it on the bedside drawers beside your phone. “I saw him.”

“I know,” Lando said as he straightened the card among the roses. “I invited him.”

“Thank you.”

The next bouquet was one that you sent to him on his birthday. He barely kept the flowers alive for a week but he did keep the card that was attached. The two little xx’s you signed off with were almost faded from how often he traced his thumb over them before slipping it back into his wallet. He was no longer a rookie but he found this season harder to bear without your companionship and he wished he could somehow fix what he broke.

The problem was that he couldn’t settle for just your friendship anymore so he had to keep his distance instead. He had tasted your lips and nothing less could sate the addiction that had festered in the absence of another hit.

Miami was torturous for Oscar. The car was running great and his qualifying was great, but after five rounds of racing he was still stunned every time he watched you enter the paddock. At least in China the weather was horrible so you were bundled up in Lando’s hoodie but Miami, Miami was hot. Monaco had been influential in your fashion and the dress you wore was worthy of the runways in Paris. 

Stacks of passes hung around your neck and fell into your cleavage as you entered the grid and joined Lando where he was talking to Carlos. Oscar watched with envy as you hugged them both and kissed their cheek with well wishes for the race while he failed to hear what his race engineer was explaining. He was distracted by the fact you had seen him, and smiled. It was small and shy, but it was a smile nonetheless and one of his own growing as you waved your fingers and disappeared back into the garage.

One hundred and ten races he kept you waiting, but finally Lando won his maiden race and there was nothing that could bring him down. He had not stopped smiling, or dancing, or talking since winning and he wasn’t even sure if any of it made sense. The hours were a whirlwind of alcohol and noise until it all turned black and Carlos had to help you get him into bed.

Lando was fast asleep with his mouth open and snoring, which heavily down to the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed at the after party. He didn’t even stir as you slipped out of the bed and left the room to answer the call that lit up your phone. 

“Hey.” You kept your voice low even though you knew nothing short of a fire alarm would wake your boyfriend.

“Hey.” You could hear the smile in that word and your own lips curled up in response. “I’m sorry if I woke you, I just needed to hear your voice.”

You navigated your way through the dark hotel suite to the balcony and opened the door just wide enough to fit through before closing it. The humidity was instant and the satin nightgown clung to your warm skin as you hung up the phone. “You didn’t wake me.”

Oscar was so close you could almost touch him, but the balcony one room over was just too far away. He even looked down the gap to see the fifteen storey high plunge and you could see his brows burrow together like he was calculating his chances of making the leap across. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned him. “I didn’t come out here to see you fall to your death.”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the railing and he sighed in defeat. A smirk soon tugged at his lips and he brushed his hair back over his ear as he eyed the sheer slip you wore. “But you did come out here to see me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, aware of how thin the material was and all it bared. “I wanted to check how you were.”

Oscar’s lips pursed at the reminder of his poor race result. 

“Could have done without your boyfriend’s boyfriend crashing into me.”

He didn’t know how close to the truth he was with that statement and you wondered if he knew about the relationship that Lando and Carlos had or if he was just playing on an old fan rumour. You wondered how shocked he would be if he knew that Carlos was passed out on the other side of Lando right now. 

“It is a part of racing,” you reminded him. “There’s always a risk battling it out.”

Oscar dropped his head with a little laugh. “It’s a good thing I didn’t call you for sympathy or I would be disappointed.”

“Why did you call me?” 

You knew why.

“I told you, I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Osc,” you sighed, your hands falling to your side, and he lifted his head to look at you, his blue eyes so similar to his teammates.

“I’m not an idiot,” he said as he let go of the rail he leaned on and rose to his full height. “I know you love him.”

“I do,” you confirmed with a small nod, unable to look in his direction as you turned your focus to the view of the ocean instead. 

You didn’t hear him move until his feet landed quietly on the concrete behind you and you spun around to face him. A small shocked gasp escaped your lips when his palm glided over the satin at your waist and pulled you closer to his body. Your hands found their own space on his chest and he froze as he waited for you to push him away, but your fingers curled into the white shirt he wore.

“I know you love him,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “But I think you might love me too.”

“You have ignored me for months.” It wasn’t a denial and he caught the admission of those missing words.

“I can never ignore you, and now I know I can’t even keep my distance from you.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours as his large hands cradled your face. “I need you, Y/N.”

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” you whispered as you fought the urge to tell him just how much you needed him too. 

“I’m asking for a chance to show you how perfect we are for each other.” He pulled back to see tears shimmering in your eyes and he sighed. “I shouldn’t have called. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

“Wait-”

“No, you don‘t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I don't want you to cheat on Lando.” He kept backing away but you followed with each step until his back was pressed to the railing. 

“Lando isn’t the problem,” you promised as you reached for his face and cradled his sharp jawline. “Remember when I said I was a PR nightmare?”

Oscar nodded as his brows furrowed together. 

“I’m trusting you with a secret no one else knows.” His confusion grew as you took his hand and led him inside the suite. You pressed a finger to your lips as you reached the bedroom door and nudged it wider so he could see what was inside. In the dim light it was hard to make out what he was looking at but then everything came into focus like the Ferrari shirt on the floor and the CS55 cap on the nightstand. 

Oscar’s jaw slackened as he recognised the two bodies spread across the sheets and he eyed the empty space that you had filled. A thousand questions muddled in his head and he swallowed them down until you had closed the door again. His hand slipped out of yours as you walked back to the balcony and you wondered if that was the last time you would ever hold it.

“No one can know, please,” you whispered as you hugged yourself and stared at the moonlight on the waves. 

“Help me to understand what I just saw. Are the rumours true then?”

You laughed and turned to face him, crossing your legs and you leant against the rail. “They're not wrong,” you admitted with an evasive shrug. “They love each other and have a relationship, but it’s not the same relationship that I have with them.”

“You’re not exactly helping me to understand this,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face as he sat heavily on the outdoor settee. 

You had never needed to explain it before, the addition of Carlos to yours and Lando’s relationship had naturally fallen into place and been accepted without having to understand why you all felt the way you did or how it was going to work. But now you were going to try.

“I met Lando first and what we had was instant, he was funny and sweet and kind. Then he introduced me to Carlos who was so charismatic it was impossible not to love him too. It didn’t mean I loved Lando any less so he supported me having a relationship with Carlos too.” 

“Okay.” He nodded like it made some sense and it gave you a slither of hope. “But what about them?”

You watched Oscar’s eyes linger on the skin bared by the satin and they darkened when you uncrossed your legs to step closer. He sat up straighter as you approached and his legs opened for you to step between and he did nothing to stop you when you took a seat on his lap. 

“You want to know if it's a package deal?” you teased, toying with the strands of his dirty blonde hair. “You want to know if you can have me, but at what price?”

His throat bounced with a deep swallow and his tongue wet his dry lips before he could speak again. “Is it?”

You thought about teasing him more but you settled for the truth. “No, like I said, they don’t have that sort of relationship. Yes, we may sleep in the same bed more often than not and on occasion they share me, but that is as far as they go. That is where the rumours are wrong.”

“Share you as in…”

“Threesome, Oscar,” you confirmed with a laugh as his cheeks turned pink. Seeing that colour again reminded you of the kiss and you shifted on his lap to straddle his hips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. It feels like a part of me has been missing for months.”

His hands slid up your back and pulled you closer. “I know what you mean.” 

His lips were so close you could feel their warmth and they begged you to close the distance, but you couldn’t just yet. “I want you, Osc, and you’re right, I do love you.”

You could see the sadness in his eyes as he asked, “But?”

“But I don’t know how this works when you and Carlos are battling each other every week.”

“I know things sound heated on the radio but that is just on the track,” he promised, his thumbs drawing soothing circles over your spine. “I have no problem with Carlos, I swear.”

Carlos had said the same thing but you weren’t sure if they were just trying to placate you. Only time would tell.

“It’s not just my heart that will break if this doesn’t work,” you whispered as your eyes fluttered shut and you surrendered yourself to him.

“Then we will just have to make this work.”

[incorrectbatfam]

Does the Batfamily use Damian's activities to reject invitations they don't want to go to?

Example: "I really would love to go on your planet/dimension but I promised Damian I would help him bath the batcow this weekend"

Or "the little one has a school project and I'll help him, I gonna be busy that night"

And something?

Bruce, on the phone: Sorry, I'm afraid I can't make it to your gala. Damian suddenly came down with a fever. You know how it is with the bug going around.

Damian: Father, I feel fine—

Bruce, covering the phone: Shush, I'm doing us a favor.

———————

Barbara: Hey, Damian got a concussion on patrol and I'm babysitting. Raincheck?

Damian: But Gordon—

Barbara: *shoos him away*

———————

Kate: I'll be late, I'm taking Damian to a root canal.

Damian: My teeth are perfectly healthy—

Kate: *muffles him with her jacket*

———————

Dick: I have to cancel. My little brother needs me right now. He's going through some tough times and I'm the closest he has to a friend.

Damian: *video calling Jon, Colin, Maya, Maps, Kathy, Billy, and Suren with the pets on camera*

———————

Steph: Heya boss, my brother just broke his leg and I need to take him to the ER. I need someone to cover my shift.

Damian: *roundhouse kicks a training dummy*

Steph: Damian, keep it down!

———————

Jason: Why I'm not gonna train the new henches? Because my brother has fucking chicken pox! Yes, you heard me right, assface. I don't care who you get as long as the orientation is done.

Damian: *has a band-aid from his booster shot*

———————

Cass: Can't dance. Baby brother needs food. Parents not home. He hasn't eaten in a week.

Damian: *devouring his second vegan sandwich*

———————

Selina: Sorry girls, my stepson's cat just died. Maybe next time.

Damian: *playing with Alfred the cat*

———————

Duke: Damian, I need you to cover for me. I'm supposed to make up a quiz but it's the Riddler again.

Damian: What story are you going with?

Duke: How about... you're stuck in the rain and I need to pick you up?

Damian: It's sunny.

Duke: Please just go with it. I'll take you to the arcade after.

Damian: *pours water on himself*

Damian, completely monotone: Oh no, I've been abandoned by my parental figures.

———————

Tim, to his secretary: Tell the board I'm canceling all my meetings this week. No one's seen my brother since yesterday and the police are now involved.

Damian: *standing next to him*

———————

Damian: *playing video games in the living room*

Alfred: Master Damian, why aren't you at school?

Damian: According to everyone else, I am experiencing a fever, concussion, tooth damage, emotional instability, broken leg, chicken pox, chronic starvation, the loss of a pet, getting stuck in a downpour, and going missing. I don't think I'm able to attend classes in such a state.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 53 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is surprised by what Maverick has to tell him, and he's not sure how to convey his mixed feelings to you. The urge to keep everything inside is strong, but you catch on right away and shut it down. In the end, he's not sure he has made the right decision.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

There was something a bit ominous about the way Maverick said, "Rooster. We need to talk." 

Bradley followed him toward the tower immediately, getting more annoyed by the second. This was supposed to be an exciting day. You and Bradley had started telling people you were engaged. It was a shame that Casey was among the first to find out, but Bradley had expected Maverick of all people to remember his plans for the weekend. 

But Bradley didn't say a word until they were inside the tower in private. "She said yes, by the way," he told his godfather blandly. "I proposed after the air show."

Maverick grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug that Bradley barely returned. "That's wonderful. I was just about to ask, but I knew she would say yes." He slapped him on the back before releasing him. "So it's safe to tell Penny now?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's safe. She can't ruin anything at this point."

Then Maverick's smile started to fade, and Bradley remembered exactly why he had followed him here to begin with. "We really do need to talk, Bradley, and I'm not sure you're going to want to hear this right now."

Bradley braced his hand on the wall next to him and asked, "Are you deploying me?"

"Not exactly," he replied as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully. 

But Bradley was so used to being spoiled right now, he didn't have the patience for this. He had you and Noah and now a baby and a wedding, too. "Just spit it out, Mav. Please."

He glanced around and cleared his throat, and Bradley's nerves just got worse when he finally spoke. "Your name came up behind closed doors. The admirals have you listed as a top selection for a training mission."

"What kind of training?" Bradley asked, wishing he would just get on with it.

Maverick's voice dropped lower as he said, "Sixth-generation fighters. Nothing that's available in the U.S. You'd be one of the first to fly them for tactical testing."

"You're joking," Bradley rasped, his body frozen as Maverick shook his head. 

"It's no joke. It's also optional. Not your traditional deployment. Nobody is going to force you to go this time. I can't supply you with many more details unless you give your verbal and written agreement to participate, but I can say that this would go a long way toward career advancement."

"Shit." 

You were pregnant. This was not the best time to leave for optional training. But six-generation technology was something he might never get to experience during his career unless he partook in this. It would be years, maybe even a decade, before Naval aviators were flying these jets off of carriers for real missions. He knew exactly what this meant. He could be among the very first to take them up in the air, and his flight details could help shape the way these jets were eventually distributed to the United States and used by the military. "Jesus, Mav."

He nodded in response. "I know the timing isn't ideal for you and your family, but it's something you should seriously consider. Go home and talk to your fiancée about it, and if you decide you want to be included in the meeting on Thursday, let me know."

"Right," Bradley muttered. "Am I dismissed?"

"Yeah. Head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bradley should have gone directly home and waited for you and Noah to arrive, but instead he took his time in the locker room. He tried to imagine what it would be like to leave you for a few weeks or months while you were pregnant, but it made him feel too uncomfortable. He could turn the opportunity down without even mentioning it to you. That actually sounded like a pretty good plan. 

While he showered and got changed, he felt guilty in a different way. He didn't want to hide this from you even though all he wanted to do was protect you. And part of him really wanted to fly these prototype jets. If he did, he could leave a lasting impression on the future of Naval aviation even after he was done spending time in the cockpit.

"Fuck," he muttered as he packed all of his things up for the day and headed outside to his Bronco. It was actually pretty late now, and there was no doubt you were at home with Noah, probably making dinner. But Bradley took a detour to the coffee shop first, and then he stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, because he wasn't sure if you were still supposed to have caffeine or not. 

He ended up ordering the decaf version of your favorite drink. Then he asked the barista to borrow a sharpie, and he wrote something new on the cup this time. He stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar and headed home, still completely undecided about what he wanted to do.

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

Noah was his usual adorable self, and you wanted to be having a good day, but you were exhausted from work and Casey. Dinner was in the oven, and you were taking the time to carefully cut apples into peanut butter snails for Noah to have as his dessert, but Bradley wasn't even home yet. 

You were looking forward to getting changed out of your wrinkled scrubs and taking a long shower, which would be much easier to do if he were here. Everything was easier with him around. You started planning a trip to Disneyland on your phone while dinner cooked, but you wanted to run it past him before you booked anything. You smiled softly, knowing Bradley would tell you to put it on your princess card before thanking you for planning the next family vacation. But you had your first doctor's appointment coming up and thought it was better to go to Disneyland after that. But October was looking promising.

When you heard the front door open, and Skittles scampered into the living room, you felt your body sag against the counter in relief. "Daddy's home," you told Noah, and he pushed his new dinosaur coloring book aside and followed after Skittles. You brought up the rear, but that just meant that you'd get the longest hug from Bradley when it was your turn. 

"Come here, Mrs. Bradshaw," he rasped after he set Noah and Skittles down, and you were tucked in his embrace with your nose buried against him immediately. It was obvious that he was tired and hungry, but he didn't rush anything. He just held you like his life depended on it. Soft kisses teased along your forehead and temple as he whispered, "I brought you some coffee."

Then you noticed the cup he had set down on the TV stand, and you rubbed your cheek against his chest as you read it. "That's adorable, Daddy." He had scrawled Princess +1 on the cup this time, and it made your face feel warm. "But I think I need to cut back on my caffeine consumption."

"It's decaf, Princess" he whispered, his lips and mustache brushing the shell of your ear. 

The soft moan that left your lips had him chuckling as you said, "The baby and I thank you." Then you ditched his arms in favor of the coffee cup. When the kitchen timer went off, you kept your eyes on Bradley as you walked backwards away from him. "After Noah goes to bed, I want to talk about something important. It rhymes with Tisneyland. I thought we could go next month. After I talk to my doctor, of course."

He winced for a split second, but it would have been impossible to miss. Okay. You thought he made it clear he wanted to go on another family trip. Maybe he changed his mind. "Shit," he whispered, swallowing hard. "We can... we can go. No problem. Whenever you want."

The timer was still buzzing, otherwise you would have pressed the issue. Without another word you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitts so you could get dinner on the table. But Bradley was acting strange. He even seemed more subdued with Noah which had you worried. 

"What happened at work?" you asked, sliding a plate of dinner in front of him. 

He shrugged. "Just a regular day. But I did tell Nat we're engaged." At least he smiled when he said that, and then he reached for you, looking up at you as you stood next to him. "Hey, I can't wait to go to Tisneyland with you."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you said, "We don't have to go in October. We can go next year or never. I just thought it was something you wanted to do."

"Book it," he said, squeezing your hip before dropping his hand. "I'll request a day off as soon as you book it after your appointment. We can take a long weekend."

Something was wrong, and you couldn't place it. But his eyes were clouded with doubt and your stomach soured so much, you could barely eat your own dinner. This didn't feel like the sweet man who agreed to go to daycare drop off with you this morning simply because you didn't want to go alone. When you offered to get Noah ready for bed, he agreed without really paying any attention to your words. 

"Come here, Sweet Noah," you whispered after Bradley kissed him goodnight, clearly distracted. You got him into his pajamas and got his teeth brushed, and like usual, he was yawning before his head even hit the pillow. You started to read him the book about farm animals that you picked out a few months ago with Bradley, and even though he was sound asleep by page two, you finished reading it just to have a few extra minutes with him. 

Eventually you found Bradley sitting on the couch with Skittles on his lap. When you leaned against the doorway, he held his hand out to coax you forward. "You didn't tell me about your day," he said softly. 

"I tried to during dinner, but it's like you weren't even there," you bit back, not moving an inch. "What's wrong? You change your mind about getting married?" you asked, holding up your left hand and spinning the ring loose with your fingers. "Or about the baby?"

Now he was up off the couch in an instant, Skittles looking rather alarmed by his sudden movement. "Hey," Bradley snarled, pulling you against him with his left hand and using his right fingers to push your ring back into place. "Don't say that. It's never going to happen."

"Then what's wrong?" you asked, giving him no room to continue to be vague and weird with you. "Just tell me."

"You gonna keep that ring on?" he asked, and you saw a flash of everything you loved so much about him in his eyes.

You pressed up onto your toes and kissed him. "Yes," you whispered before kissing him again and again. "I'll keep it on. Just tell me what's wrong."

He pulled you toward the couch, and after he sat, you straddled his lap while Skittles curled up on the cushion next to you. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered, his big hands sliding down your hips to your thighs, stroking you through the thin fabric of your pants. He was staring at your name where it was embroidered on your scrub shirt instead of meeting your eyes. "Earlier today, Maverick told me about something... interesting."

"Go on," you whispered, raking your fingers through his soft hair. "I already know something's bothering you, so just say it, Daddy."

He nodded slightly and kissed your forearm before he finally met your gaze. "It sounds like there's a brand new fleet of aircrafts with technology updates that have never been flown by American pilots before. I'm on a short list of aviators who have been invited to train on these jets overseas, most likely in the hopes that the Navy will adopt these planes in the future."

You nibbled on your lip and considered his words. "So, it's kind of like a deployment?" you asked, still dragging your fingers through his hair as you scooted a little closer. 

"Sort of," he said softly. "But it's optional. And I'm going to tell Mav I don't want to go. I'll be here, okay? We can go to Disneyland next month."

You studied his handsome face, and while he looked more relaxed now that he told you what Maverick said, you knew that wasn't the end of it. You pieced it together in your mind and leaned the rest of the way to his lips. He accepted your kiss as he rubbed his hands slowly along your thighs. You hummed and let your forehead rest against his. 

Your voice was calm as you asked, "But you do want to go, don't you?"

He remained quiet, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so your body was flush against his and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. You relaxed against the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soothing beating of his heart. 

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly and deep, and it made you shiver. "The last thing I want is to be away from you and Noah and the baby. I don't want you under the impression that those thoughts are on my mind, okay? That's not what this is."

"I believe you, Bradley," you whispered against his neck. "But this sounds like a big deal. You made the list? Over so many other people? They chose you to try something brand new?"

His voice was a little more forceful as he said, "I do not want to leave you alone right now. It wouldn't be fair."

You kissed your way up his neck until your lips found his earlobe, and you kissed him there, too. You inhaled the smell of his shampoo as you said, "I love you, and I want to support you as much as you support me. If you want to do this, then I think you should."

There was no denying that you felt safer and more loved when you were with Bradley than you ever had before. But this was his career, and it sounded like he had a chance to be part of something huge. 

"You're right, Baby. I do want to go."

You nodded as he held you. "Do you have any other details?"

"No. There's a meeting on Thursday that I can sit in on if I let Mav know I'm interested, but I doubt I'll get a ton of information short of a departure date and maybe a location unless I sign on for this thing."

You kissed his cheek and pulled away so you could look at his face. "Next time, just tell me what's on your mind instead of trying to make an important decision without me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching for your left hand and kissing your palm and the spot where the band of your engagement ring wrapped around your finger. "But next time, don't even pretend like you're taking this thing off."

"I won't."

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

Somehow Bradley made it all the way to the meeting on Thursday, his curiosity piqued. When he found out where the meeting was being held, he was even more surprised. 

"Come to Admiral Simpson's office promptly at one o'clock," Maverick told him, and Bradley silently thanked you for clearing things up with Cyclone the way you had. There was no way his name would have made it onto any list if you didn't send the man a glass of bourbon at Warlock's retirement party. 

"I'll be there," he promised. And if he was surprised by the location, he was even more surprised when he showed up to find Cyclone and Maverick waiting for him and him alone. 

"Sir?" Bradley asked, standing until he was given permission to sit. He knew better than to ask a single question about the training before he had some information to work with, but his brain was swirling nonstop. You and he stayed up last night making a list of things he needed to know before making a decision. For example, Bradley desperately wanted to fly these sixth-gen fighters, but he wasn't willing to be gone for months on end. Hell, you still hadn't seen your doctor yet. That appointment wasn't happening until Monday.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone said, pushing a folder toward Bradley as he sat down behind his desk. "We chose you for this training protocol. Only you. If you are unwilling, then we will regroup and try to select someone else. However, time is tight and details are going to be scarce unless you agree to participate. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sir," he replied, and then Cyclone tapped his fingers on the folder before releasing it to Bradley. 

Maverick was standing near the window, and Bradley got the feeling that his godfather was proud of him. He still wasn't sure why he was the only one here, but as he opened the folder and skimmed the pages, many of his immediate questions were answered.

As soon as he saw it, he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Japan on Monday morning? Because if that's a hard set date, then my immediate answer is no." 

He closed the folder and started to hand it back to Cyclone who was sharing a look with Maverick. "And if we could push it to Tuesday?" he asked without taking the folder.

"I'm listening," Bradley replied, honestly wondering what he had that the other pilots didn't.

Maverick stepped away from the window. "Bradl- Lieutenant Bradshaw," he corrected right away. Bradley realized it was hard for both of them to separate their professional relationship from the personal one they shared, especially when they did things like take family vacations together. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were chosen for your skill set and the way you prioritize communication. We don't want to have to select someone else, especially when we believe you'd be the best pilot available."

Cyclone cleared his throat and added, "Consider Tuesday morning your new departure time. Do you have an answer?"

Bradley blinked at him a few times, glanced down at the information in the folder, and then looked up again. "You need me to give you an answer right now? Sir?"

He nodded once and folded his hands. "Before you leave my office."

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

You were too tired to do anything after work except pick Noah up from preschool. Seriously, if Casey even tried to talk to you, it was going to be her funeral. But for once, luck was on your side, because she wasn't even there. You signed Noah out without incident and headed home to talk about this special training mission.  

Bradley must have learned his lesson from earlier this week. You couldn't believe he was about to make a decision without you like that, just to try to save you the stress. You could handle it. After your appointment on Monday, you could handle anything that came your way. 

When he got home shortly after you did, he told you immediately that he needed to talk to you. He kissed Noah on the top of his head and pulled you to the kitchen doorway, a frantic look on his face as he stroked your cheek with his fingers. "I'm going."

Your heart plummeted. He really did decide without talking to you about the details. You wanted him to go, but you also wanted to talk about the pros and cons with him first. But in the end, you really had no say here at all. "You are? I thought we were going to talk it through."

"We were," he whispered. "That was my intention, Princess. But they made me decide before I could leave Cyclone's office."

You made a concerned face. "Cyclone's office? How did everyone fit in there?"

Bradley shook his head, his cheeks a little ruddy from frustration or embarrassment, you weren't sure which. "They didn't, Princess. It was just me. I was the whole list of people."

"Oh," you gasped. It was hard for you to understand at times that he was at the top of his career, because he was just as devoted to his life at home. With you and Noah. "Where are you going? And when do you leave?"

"Japan," he rasped, his face full of guilt now. "And I leave on Tuesday morning."

The pounding of your heart was making you feel nauseous. "Tuesday?"

He nodded. "They originally wanted me to leave on Monday, and if that was the case, I was ready to turn it down, no further questions asked."

"You were?"

His eyes went wide. "I'm not missing the first appointment for something optional."

You nodded slowly, because that brought up your next question. You sensed he might be missing subsequent appointments. "When will you be back?"

He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you closer to him. "I have no idea."

Then you started to cry, and you felt like such an idiot. You wanted him to go.  You wanted him to have this experience and impact new pilots in the future, but you also thought you'd have a little more time before he left. "Just come back safely," you whispered while he let you cry in his arms.

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

Bradley noticed right away that you were a little distant. Maybe you needed a day or two to process everything, but in another day or two, he'd be packing and leaving. He thought he was doing what you wanted him to, but you cried yourself to sleep on Thursday. You were obviously exhausted and frankly kind of moody, and now he was kicking himself for agreeing to a training mission that had no disclosed ending date. 

"Fuck," he grunted on Saturday afternoon when he took Noah to the park so you could have some time to yourself. Pretty soon, you'd be on single, pregnant parent duty around the clock for probably weeks on end. Bradley's guilt was really prevalent now.

"Daddy?" Noah asked as he was being pushed on the swing. 

"Yeah, Bub?"

"Can I have a Halloween costume?"

"Of course," Bradley groaned, cradling his forehead in his hand. Halloween was still six weeks away, but he could already imagine the tears in his son's eyes if he wasn't home in time for trick-or-treating. Hell, he hadn't even explained to Noah that he was going away again yet. "You can pick something out with Mommy," he added, his voice harsh now.

Noah looked back at him over his shoulder and started to slow himself down. When he jumped out of the swing, he ran to Bradley who scooped him up. "Can we go home?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck like he could tell he needed a hug. "I miss Mommy and Skittles."

Bradley kissed his son's cheek. "You know what? I miss them, too. Let's go home." He buckled Noah in and drove slowly. He should probably start packing tonight, but he was just dying to spend some time alone with you. The last thing he wanted was to return to a quiet house and a quiet fiancée right now. You and he were going to need to have another conversation about this, and he already felt like a jerk for wanting to have everything. 

When he pulled into the driveway as the sun was starting to set, you were in the front yard with Skittles on her leash. You were wearing one of your little floral dresses, and Bradley almost ran into your car as he looked at you. God, he was stupid for voluntarily agreeing to leave you. Once he was parked, you opened the back door and started unbuckling Noah and lifting him out like the most devoted mom in the world, and Bradley was about to lose his mind if he couldn't sort this out tonight.

"Hey, Daddy," you said softly as you turned, holding a very sleepy looking Noah against your shoulder. "Should we feed him dinner and get him in bed?"

"I think so," Bradley replied, eyeing you up and down, his gaze catching on your glossy lips. "You look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I just wanted to look cute for you."

His eyebrows shot up in response. "Don't you always?"

A soft smile found your lips as you started to head for the front door with Noah. Bradley followed you inside, and once Noah was eating leftovers, he pulled you into the hallway where he pushed you back against the wall. 

"Does this mean we can talk about some things tonight?" he asked, stroking your bottom lip before kissing you softly. 

You moaned gently into his mouth as his weight pressed against you. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want."

"You told me you wanted me to fly this mission," he said, and you nodded before you kissed the tip of his nose.

"I know. And I do. I just needed to process everything. The timeline just threw me off a little bit. And if I'm being honest, it's never not going to be scary when you leave."

"I'm coming back," he promised, knowing full well he only had so much control over that. "I'm coming back to my family as soon as I can."

This time when you nodded, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "I know, Daddy," you whimpered between filthy kisses, rubbing yourself against him. He rutted you back into the wall, and you moaned his name as he cupped your ass. And that's when he felt it, firm against his fingertips compared to the softness of your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, easing your dress up inch by inch until he was touching the silicone. 

"Do you want me to put my crown on to match?" you asked sweetly as he spread you open wider with his hands. "I can be your going away present."

Bradley leaned closer until his lips were pressed to your ear. "I want you in bed with your crown on as soon as Noah's asleep. Then I'm going to fuck the absolutely shit out of you. And then after that, I'm going to make love to you until you're satisfied. And then we're going to talk about everything that's going to happen while I'm in Japan until we're both comfortable with all of it. And then we're going to start planning our wedding."

"Yes," you agreed. "That's exactly how I want to spend our evening."

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

Just a few more chapters left. Do you think he made a good decision? Leaving Princess right now? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[sweetyyhippyy]

Meeting Mom. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *Fluff*

Summary: Eddie tells his girlfriend about his mom for the first time. He also takes her to go visit her on an important date.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Mention of Eddie smoking weed. Eddie talking about his mom and some cute stories about her. Eddie obviously being sad about his mom being gone. Eddie and reader being at a cemetary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The storm had knocked out the whole apartment complex's power, luckily Eddie decided to stay the night with her to keep her company and keep her safe- he would use any excuse to spend the night with her.

She shuffles back into her room, turning her flashlight off once it lands on Eddie in her bed, an ashtray laying on his stomach and a half smoked blunt between his lips.

The ember end of the blunt guides her back to the bed, laying next to Eddie and resting her head on his shoulder.

Eddie takes one more large hit before coughing heavily. “Shit.” He mutters once his lungs fill with clean air. Putting the small stub in the glass tray and placing it on the bedside table.

She giggles against his warm skin, looking up at him. “You alright there, Smokey?” She teases.

He huffs out a laugh as he settles into bed with his girlfriend’s bed with her, resting his arm around her shoulder. “I’m testing out a new strand Rick got. It’s a little strong but good.”

She hums happily against him, kissing the pale skin. “Can I ask you something?”

“If you were a worm, yes I would still love you. I’d love you a little less, but I would still love you.”

She giggles at his response, playfully pushing his side. “Not that question you dweeb. And good to know you would love me less if I was a worm.” She scoffs.

Eddie chuckles deeply, stamping out the end of the blunt in the ashtray. “What do you want to know?”

She flips onto her stomach, lightly touching his undershirt. “The other day when I came over, you were talking about going to Crawford and you sounded sad. Was everything okay?”

The room grows quiet for a while, just low thumps coming from the apartment above hers.

“I’m sorry, did I bring up something I wasn’t supposed to?” She asks, breaking the silence in the room.

“Oh, no baby, no. It’s just um… you just overheard kind of a deep conversation.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, baby.” He says. “Um… the anniversary of my mom’s death is next weekend, so I’m going to go visit her at the cemetery.”

Eddie never talked about his mom with her, it was one of the walls that he still had up. She understood that it was a hard subject and she never pried. The only thing that she knew was that her name was Elizabeth and she had big curly dark brown hair, just like his.

“Aww, baby I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She moves up the bed, kissing his cheek softly.

“I think she would have liked you.” He smiles to himself warmly, touching her lower back, drawing small circles under her shirt. “She, uh,” He laughs to himself. “She liked to paint and draw. I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes- I was a bad sleeper as a kid- I think I got it from her, because she would be in the kitchen at like 3 am with all of her paintbrushes, her paints, and canvases. She liked to paint nature a lot, like the woods in our backyard and if she took me to the park in our neighborhood, she would paint the field that was next to it, it was full of these yellow flowers she loved. Yellow was her favorite color.” He was glad that the room was dark because he could feel tears fill his eyes.

“That’s where you get your love artistic stuff from, hm?” She says, touching his face softly, hearing the sadness in his tone.

“Yeah. She tried to teach me how to paint stuff, but I was better at painting the linoleum floor in the kitchen.” He laughs deep from his belly. “She started to teach me how to draw, and that I was good at. She would get so excited when I would draw stuff on her Mother’s Day cards or her birthday cards. There was one Christmas, it was the Christmas before… before she passed… I worked on this picture of these yellow flowers that had this like pink trim or something around it. I surprised her with the picture and she loved it, she put it in a frame, hung it on the wall in her and my dad’s bedroom.” Eddie sniffles, tears now rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh, honey.” She whispers, kissing his cheek.

Eddie wipes his eyes, clearing the hoarseness that was in his throat. “She loved it. She kept all the shit I drew for her. After my dad got locked up and Wayne came to get me, I found this huge box with all the cards and drawings I did for her. I was such an angry little shit head at that time, I wanted to throw it in the trashcan and burn it. But Wayne put it in the back of his truck and took it with us, he has it somewhere in the trailer.” He stays quiet for a few seconds before sniffling. “I loved her so much… she was my best friend.”

The lights flick back on, making her jump slightly. The lights illuminate Eddie’s wet brown eyes, his dark eyelashes damp from his tears.

She swipes her thumb across his cheek, her other hand wiping the single tear rolling down his cheek. “Thank you for telling me about her. I can tell where you got that big, loving heart from.”

Eddie nods his head, smiling at her. “Can I ask you something?”

“About you being a worm?” She jokes, trying to take the heaviness off his heart.

Eddie laughs, his round eyes scanning her face slowly, looking at every little detail carefully. “Do you want to take the ride with me to go see her? Introduce you guys to each other?”

“Oh, Eddie.” She coos. “You really want to?”

“Yeah, I think it’s time for you to meet her. The only two women I’ve loved in my whole life.”

Her heart flutters at his words, making her own eyes water. “I would love to come.”

***

Elizabeth “Lizzie” Munson. Loving sister, daughter, wife, and “mommy” Born: May 2, 1939. Died August 28, 1972

“Hey, mom.” Eddie smiles, taking the dead flowers from the hole next to her headstone and replacing them with new ones. “I brought someone for you to meet.” He turns to look at his girlfriend, motioning her to come closer.

She smiles at Eddie before walking next to him, laying her own flowers that she bought down. “Hi.” She says, looking at the picture of her etched into the headstone. “Wow, you do look a lot like her.” She says to Eddie, smiling fondly at the black and white picture.

Eddie chuckles, sitting on the green grass below them. “Yeah, everyone said that I stole her entire face. My dad’s genes didn’t stand a chance. Here, come sit.” He pats a spot next to him.

“Hold on, I have one thing I wanted to show her, if you don’t mind.” She says, digging into her back pocket.

Eddie raises an eyebrow at her in confusion.

She unfolds the long wrinkled piece of paper, flattening it out as best she can against her leg. “Eddie told me about how you taught him how to draw. He’s drawn a lot of pictures for me since we’ve been together, and I keep everything just like you did. He told me about this picture that you were so proud of him doing and I asked Wayne to find it for me.” She bends down, placing the paper right under the headstone and grabbing a few rocks on top to weigh it down. “I wanted you to see it again.”

Eddie peeks over her shoulder, seeing the drawing he did back Christmas 1971 of the yellow and pink flowers he drew for her. He bites his bottom lip to keep it from wobbling while he openly cried. “Babe.”

She turns to look at him, her own eyes wet too. “I wanted it to be a surprise. For both of you.” She sits next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Eddie wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

She lifts her head up and kisses his jaw lovingly. “Of course.” She says softly. “You know, for you only being 6 when you drew that, you were really good.”

Eddie smiles warmly, looking at his girlfriend. “Been a long time since I drew stuff like that. After my mom died, I started doing ‘darker’ stuff. Characters I would come up with and stuff when I started doing stuff with D&D, writing campaigns was easier when I had faces to names. Then when you came along, started drawing stuff for you and my art got happier. You made me happier than I had been since I lost my mom.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest at his last sentence, somehow falling more in love with him. “I’m glad I can make you happier, baby. I always want to make you as happy as I can. You deserve to be happy.”

***

“Put your trash in here, I’ll go throw it in the trash.” She holds open the paper bag they brought their picnic lunch in, throwing the discarded items in.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t we head out? It’s going to start getting cold soon.” Eddie says.

“Yeah, okay. I”ll meet you at the car.” She smiles as she stands up, turning toward the headstone. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Munson. Hopefully I can come back soon. I’ll take care of your boy.”

Eddie watches as she walks away, warmly smiling at her. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m planning on marrying her, mom. She’s the right one.”

[percervall]

slipping through my fingers all the time — smau

Summary: A peek into the lives of girlypop and her gaggle of husbands Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: none

images are all from pinterest, tumblr and instagram

kevinmagnussen and others liked this

girlypop take all the time you need, peanut

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susie_wolff congratulations! you're gonna be the best mama ↳ girlypop thanks Susie!

jasmiine so happy for you guys! can't wait to be the best auntie for peanut! ↳ girlypop peanut is lucky to have you!

girlypop, lewishamilton and others liked this

kevinmagnussen welcome to the world Agnes. Your mummy and dads love you so much already

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oscarpiastri welcome little roo

carmenmundt congratulations!

mickshumacher laila and I will come visit soon! congrats sis 😉 liked by girlypop

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girlypop Agnes wanted to look at every single flower before picking her favourites for her dads. Happy father's day my loves

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jasmiine your husbands are the luckiest men ↳ lewishamilton oh, we know liked by aussiegrit and kevinmagnussen

landonorris glad to see the bucket hat is appreciated ✌🏼 liked by girlypop

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lewishamilton words cannot express how happy we are. welcome Margot, you are so loved already

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georgerussell63 congrats mate!

charles_lecerc congratulations! 👶🏼

sebastianvettel congratulations!

susie_wolff Agnes can't wait to meet her little sister! congrats you four, she's perfect

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girlypop getting so big already!

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sebastianvettel look at my goddaughter getting so strong! liked by girlypop

lailahasanovic 🏃🏼‍♀️ omw for some baby snuggles ↳mickshumacher 🏃🏼‍♂️ wait for me!

aussiegrit posted a new story!

↳ oscarpiastri good to know I am not the only one she's got wrapped around her finger ↳ fernandoalo_ofical she's got better moves than him! 😂 ↳ jasmiine i'd say sorry for turning my niece into a swifty but you're welcome feels more appropriate 😘

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girlypop whoever said it was a good idea to have a baby with a 6ft giant obviously has never been pregnant before

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jasmiine if you need me to 🧹 lmk ↳aussiegrit do I even want to know what this means? ↳jasmiine no✨

susie_wolff oh I know, it's the absolute worst! but, also worth it in the end liked by girlypop

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aussiegrit Our family felt incomplete without you. Welcome Luke

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jensonbutton congratulations man. fatherhood looks good on you liked by girlypop

fernandoalo_oficial congratulations!

oscarpiastri congrats old man! liked by girlypop and aussiegrit

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girlypop @.brittnyward is this yours?

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brittnyward ah, so that's where he went. pls remind him to pick up dishwasher tablets liked by girlypop ↳girlypop will do babe!

lilyzneimer can't blame him! baby luke is the cuddliest baby ever! liked by girlypop

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girlypop this is what happens when Oscar and uncle LaLa look after Luke for the weekend 🤦🏼‍♀️

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oscarpiastri cheers mum 😶 this was all Lando ↳landonorris whats that supposed to mean? he looks like the coolest toddler on the grid! ↳jensonbutton he looks ready to take over quadrant liked by landonorris

lilyzneimer how did Agnes' race go? ↳aussiegrit she did so well! roo came third and was disappointed she didn't get to spray the champagne. pretty sure I saw nano cry ↳fernandoalo_oficial so did you cabrón liked by jensonbutton

the next time I decide to do a smau, I'd appreciate it if someone would remind me of just how long this took me

please let me know what you think. your comments, likes, and tags mean the absolute world to me 💜

[bettyfrommars]

Touch my cheek before you leave me, baby//Part 2

gigolo!Eddie x virgin!older!fem!Reader

(part 1)(part 3)

18+Only, mature content, intimacy smut, sweet!Eddie, nipple play, praise!kink, masturbation, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, toxic mother, self-esteem issues, alcohol consumption, implied self-loathing, pet names, implied sex with someone other than reader, paid sex. wc: 4.6k

summary: After that first night together on your 29th birthday when you lost your virginity to gigolo Eddie, he mentions, in his own way, that he'd like to see you again off the clock. Reader is an introvert dealing with self-esteem issues and invites Eddie to be our date for a wedding, but not before he invites us back to his place.

authors note: I never intended this to be more than one part, but it quickly became a favorite, and I had so many requests for more. Who am I to deny us more of sweet, gigolo Eddie?

All of your support means the world, and I very much look forward to your thoughts ❤️

pls no minors beyond this point

-------

You still couldn’t tell if it was real.  When he said he wouldn’t charge you if you ever wanted to meet up again. It felt sincere when he said it, but now, two days later, by the phone with gigalo Eddie’s number in your hand, you were convinced that it was all part of his game.  Maybe he was just that good.

He knew everything that would turn you on, everything you needed to hear, right down to the pet names and the missionary style, intimate sex. It had all been in the paperwork you’d submitted. It was nothing but a job to him, and you had totally fallen for it.  

Now you felt like one of those idiot, lovesick men at the strip clubs who always believed that the girls were really in love with them after they made eye contact a few times and tipped them for hours on end. 

You did your affirmations in the mirror that morning, trying not to look at yourself from the side in the full length mirror and pinch at the parts of your body you thought were gross.  Trying not to indulge in the morning ritual of hating yourself.

Even if Eddie had felt some type of real connection with you—which you now highly doubted—how would things progress between the two of you? From what Robin had told your friend Nellie, Eddie was a busy boy.  He was a respected gigalo within a 50 mile radius, and his list of regular clients was long; your evening with him was booked a month in advance.  On nights when he didn’t have clients, he was practicing with his band or playing gigs, and you were sure he could have any woman he wanted when he performed.

But then the phone rang as you were sitting there right next to it and you jumped, a shriek escaping your throat.

It was your mom, reminding you to pick up the dress for your cousin's wedding the following weekend. You weren’t going to be in the wedding party, but your mother had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want you to embarrass her with any of the styles of clothes you would’ve picked out for yourself.  

She exhaled a haggard breath.  “I suppose you still haven’t found a date? There’s a new boy who goes to our church. I think he might even like you, as long as you don’t bring up any of your strange conspiracy theories or serial killer statistics. Wear that special bra I got for you, and put a little makeup on.  Men like women who try to look nice for them.”

You wanted so badly to let your mother know that you’d recently paid for a gigolo to take your virginity, just to hear the horror and panic in her voice.  You were already a disappointment to her, why not put a cherry on top?

You put Eddie’s number on the table and stared at it while she talked.  “Actually,” you took a stiff swallow that felt like a marble in your throat.  “I do have a date.  For the wedding.  His name is Eddie.”

You relished the silence of shock at the other end. “Oh? What does this Eddie do? Not another jobless musician like the last boy you had a crush on, I hope?”

You winced at the way she brought it up.  Almost a decade ago, you had a crush on the brother of one of your friends, that is until you overheard him refer to you as “creepy”.

You knew she’d never drop it until you told her something; what a person did for a living and their social standing was very important to your mother.  “He’s, um,” you looked around, eyes landing on one of the cassette tapes on the shelf for the band Mike and The Mechanics.

“He’s a mechanic,” but you knew that wouldn’t be good enough.  “He, uh, runs his own auto body garage.” The lie—the fact that you even had to lie—made you squeeze your eyes shut.

She of course asked what the name of his garage was, and you told her he was from out of town and only coming in for the wedding.  She started badgering you with more questions and you lied and told her someone was at the door of your apartment and you had to go, hanging up the receiver before she could protest.  

A few hours later, after listening to music on full blast in your headphones and nearly pacing a hole in the carpet, you cracked open the nerve to call Eddie.

Your blood ran freezing cold as it rang on his end, and you glanced at the clock: it was just after 8:00pm.  You’d purposely waited until it was later in the evening, praying that he’d be with his band or with another client, and then you could leave him a message on his machine.  You were banking on this, actually.  If he picked up and you heard his voice, you’d probably hang up on him.

As luck would have it, you did get his answering machine.  Nervous as all hell, your voice was a tad squeaky at first, but then you cleared your throat. 

You decided you would present the invitation to be your date to the wedding as a job, one you would pay him for.  You let him know you’d had a great time the other night, and then made sure he had your phone number, and that you would TOTALLY understand if he was already busy that weekend.  You were about to hang up when you realized that you’d never said exactly who you were, and so you blurted your name out at the last minute, but it was too late because the recorder beeped and cut you off.

You went to bed that night convinced you would never hear from him again.  

Much later that night, after a long day, Eddie grinned down at the answering machine the second he heard your voice—he knew it was you right away.  He’d been thinking about you nonstop since that night you’d been together, but he never expected to hear from you.  He worried that he had put you on the spot when he said you wouldn’t have to pay him, and it had probably made you uncomfortable.  Flirting on the job was not something he had done before and it was very unprofessional of him. At the very least, he needed to apologize to you.

But there you were, calling him this soon as if you’d been thinking about him too.  

He tucked his hand in his armpit and nibbled at his lip when you asked if he was free this weekend to go to a wedding with you.

His heart skipped a beat.  He was thinking something more along the lines of dinner and a movie, but, sure, he would be your date—he had a tux. He’d have to reschedule one of his regulars, but she would understand. Other guys might’ve seen that as getting too serious too quick, but not Eddie.  He hadn’t had a girlfriend, or even been on a date that was not work related in over a year.  Women weren’t interested in taking a gigolo home to meet their parents.  They wanted his cock in all of their holes, but none of them ever wanted to know how his day went or what his dreams were.  

“So, just let me know…” you continued in the message.  “...if you’re available, and how much would you charge for something like that? I’d totally understand if…”

Damn it, he cursed to himself, sucking air in the side of his cheek.  He thought that invitation was sounding a little too good to be true.  

All the same, he called back the next day and left a message while you were at the local grocery store where you worked as an assistant manager, letting you know he’d be honored to be your date, and to tell him the where and the when.

But he did not give a price, and the omission was not lost on you.

—-----

You were so nervous, you could puke.

But it was still a day before the wedding, and you were in attendance at the post-rehearsal dinner at Enzo’s.  Although you were not going to be in the wedding, your beautiful, outgoing sister Judith was, and you weren’t entirely against a dinner paid for by your uncle at one of the fanciest restaurants in town.  

You were feeling the buzz of the wine and trying to play wallflower as the other four people at the table, including your sister and three of her friends, engaged in lively conversation and shared exaggerated stories from their college years.  You were sitting back in your chair, offering a chuckle to something that was just said, when you looked across to the main entrance and saw Eddie coming through the door.  

You were only looking in his direction for maybe five seconds before you looked away, but it felt like an hour.  There was an ocean in your ears as your heartbeat soared and your brain scrambled to make sense of what was going on. 

He looked particularly beautiful.  Hair worn down, framing his face, a crisp white button down, allowing for the dark designs of his chest tattoos to show, sleeves rolled up at the elbows, exposing his defined forearm muscles and tattoos.  

Eddie was not alone.  

Next to him, holding onto his arm, was a very pretty woman.  Shoulder length, brunette hair brushed back from her face, flawless skin, tight black dress and gold jewelry.  She might have been mid to late thirties, much shorter than Eddie. They appeared to be very cozy as they stood waiting to be shown to their booth, and when she turned to ask him something, Eddie answered, and then kissed the back of her hand.

You snapped your eyes back to the table, twirled the stem of your wine glass a few times, and then lifted it to your lips for a generous gulp.  Everyone at your table was just tipsy enough to not notice how flustered you got, cheeks blooming red hot.

Eddie saw you while he was escorting Lana to their table, but he wasn’t sure if you had seen him yet or not.  This was his fifth “date” with Lana.  Her husband passed away four years ago, and she’d decided that she’d never love another man again as much as she’d loved him, so she didn’t want any romantic attachments.  What she wanted was a man to take care of her once in a while: escort her to dinner, treat her like a lady, hold doors for, and then let her suck him off so he could cum on her tits the way her husband used to do.  He wore her husband's Old Spice aftershave and called her “Sugar” which had always been his nickname for her. 

He needed to focus on Lana, but as the waiter handed over the wine menus, Eddie kept glancing in your direction.  It'd been a week since the two of you had been together biblically, and he’d really been missing your face, more than he could even admit to himself.  He found himself drawn to you chemically in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager. 

You shot him a look over your wine glass, and he lifted his fingers in a small wave, but you ducked your head and tried to hide behind whoever was sitting next to you. 

If anyone there recognized him tomorrow at the wedding, and happened to connect the dots that he was with another woman on a date the night before, that would be bad. He made a last second decision to switch places with Lana in the booth so that his back would be to the people you were with, in an effort to hide his identity.  

“I think it’s time for me to go home,” you announced to the table, getting to your feet as you said it.

Your sister protested.  “But, we just got here? One more drink?”

You fumbled so fast for your jacket that your chair fell to the ground.  Even over the Italian music and plentiful conversations, everyone turned to look, including Eddie, and then you were rushing to get out of the restaurant, bursting into the fresh air and hurrying down the sidewalk.

Down at the corner of the building, you were catching your breath and feeling stupid as hell, when you realized Eddie was coming toward you with his hands in his pockets.  He had waited a few minutes, but eventually followed.

“Hey,” he said, catching up to you after a few slow, deliberate strides.  “I hope I didn’t make anything weird for you in there.”

You covered your eyes with your hand.  “No, I’m the one who made things weird,” you told him. “I’m just not a fan of crowds. I think I got a little claustrophobic.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie had his head down, shuffling his foot, and you noticed how different his demeanor was when he wasn’t “working”.  

You huffed a laugh.  “You’re a natural with people, what are you talking about?”

“Maybe I just play a good game,” he lifted his eyes to meet yours, chin lowered. “On the inside I spend plenty of time curled in a ball in the corner, I promise you.”

A car horn blared in the distance, and then Eddie spoke again.  “You look really pretty tonight,” his hands stayed in his pockets, but he gestured with his elbow.  “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Of course,” you said quickly, praying he hadn’t suddenly changed his mind.  “I mean, if you still want to?”

“Of course I want to, sweetheart,” he cocked his head, but then he gestured toward the restaurant. “I need to get back in, I can’t leave her hanging.”

You started to speak nervously, something about “oh yes sure go ahead absolutely okay goodnight” as you walked away, but then he caught your arm.

He searched your face in the dark shadow of the street corner.  “Are you…busy later? Like, in a couple hours?”

Your heart tightened at the urgency of his question.  The way his eyes settled on you, they were full of desire, and you couldn’t remember the last time anyone gave you all of their attention like that.  

Eddie was really taking a chance with this one.  What woman in her right mind would want to spend time with him right after he’d been intimate with someone else?  This is where any dating situation he ever attempted came to a screeching halt.  He went home lonely more often than not.  

Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his beautiful neck, letting the gravity of what he was asking you sink in.  “Won’t you be��tired?”

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek.  “Not too tired.”

—----

He called from the payphone at Enzo’s and left his address on your answering machine, just like he said he would, and so there you were, in your car in the driveway of the adorable light blue house he shared with a friend named Steve, who was supposedly also in the gigolo business. Steve was out of town for a few days, though, and inside your head you were screaming; you couldn’t believe this was happening.

 It was one of the better maintained houses on the block; lawn perfectly mowed and trimmed, a flower bed with purple pansies along the sidewalk.  There was the husk of an old muscle car in the garage though, and an engine weeping oil on the pavement.  The lie you’d told your mother wasn’t too far off, and a grin kicked up one side of your mouth thinking about how Eddie’s strong hands had some black stains in the crevasses from working on cars, even though he scrubbed them constantly.  

Eddie had no idea what he was doing.  The good thing about being a gigalo was that he could control the atmosphere and the outcome: he never had to worry about getting hurt because it was just a job.  

You could tell he’d just come out of the shower when he answered the door in a plain white tee and jeans exposing the tattoos on his arms, hair wet down his shoulders, skin warm and soft when he hugged you in the doorframe. 

The hug lingered, and when you stepped back, your chin was down, your eyes trying to avoid him at all costs. Sure, you wanted to be there with him, but also, your body was in fight or flight mode.  You could hear your mother’s voice in your head then, telling you there’s no way a guy as good looking as Eddie would be interested in a girl like you. She’d insist he was using you for something.

“Hey,” Eddie caught your chin and brought your attention back to him. He ran a thumb across your mouth.  “I’ve been dreaming of these lips.”

It made you snort a laugh, and Eddie laughed too, squeezing one eye closed.  “Sorry, was that too cheesy? Occupational hazard.”

“I like cheesy,” you beamed, parting your lips to accept his kiss, opening your mouth to take him deeper, working your hands up the front of his chest over his shirt.  You tried not to think about the woman he’d been with just an hour earlier, and the things they’d possibly done together.  If he could accept you and still find you desirable, even when you didn’t even like yourself, you were willing to have an open mind about his profession.  At least for now.

You found out he had an episode of Elvira’s Movie Macabre on the TV, and told him it was one of your favorites.  This made Eddie like you even more.  He sat back on the couch, legs long, and beckoned for you with a few eager flaps of his wrist to come and sit flush with your back against him.  “This is what I needed,” he said as you got comfortable between his legs.  He kissed the side of your head, intertwined the fingers of one of his hands with yours, and you could barely concentrate on the show with the way his closeness made your pussy pulse.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.  Both of his thumbs slid down the front of the blouse you were wearing to graze the hard nubs of your nipples, while he kissed the outer ridge of your ear.  

You could only make a needy purr in the back of your throat, pushing against him at the need for more.  

“Are your nipples this hard just for me, sweetheart?” He hushed, nuzzling your ear.  You squirmed a bit more, nodding, exposing the side of your neck to greet his mouth.  He unbuttoned your shirt and pulled down the front cups of your bra to pluck at your tender buds, making you whine.  He found your pulse point on your throat and sucked there, continuing to work your nipples in a way that had your underwear immediately damp with arousal.

“You getting wet for me so I can taste how good I make you feel, baby?”

Indeed, your body was letting him know loud and clear that this is what it wanted.  

He licked his fingers to wet your nipples, and you felt like you might be able to cum from his finger twisting alone.  You undid the zipper on your trousers and sank your fingers into the wetness there, working your slippery clit.  You slid your digits down a little further and dipped them into your hole; it gripped around you, begging to be filled.

“Let me taste it,” he told you.  You presented your two glistening fingers up and he sucked them into his mouth, licking them clean, making you tremble at the way his tongue flicked between them.

“Keep touching yourself,” he encouraged, milking and twisting your nipples with a bit more force now that they weren’t as sensitive, causing zings of pleasure to rock through your body.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, finding your clit again, working your wrist.  “You’re going to make me—”

But then it was already happening, a pop of velvet streamers liquified at your core, pulsing, throbbing, making you go blind for a second.  

Eddie’s cock bucked hard against his denim.  You turned to kiss him in the aftermath, and he slid out from under you to get on his knees, pulling your pants off the rest of the way.

“I need to taste it,” he breathed, hiking your knees up over his shoulders so he could bury his face and lick you clean, lapping up your gift, groaning and rocking forward on his knees as he did so.  

You grabbed onto his hair.  “You like how hard I cum for you, don’t you baby?”

You were learning to be more verbal, and it made his hips twitch against the couch, he wanted you so bad.  Once he devoured the sweet  nectar of  your cum, he worked his way up your body, kissing your breasts, and then finding your mouth.  He sank two fingers into your aching hole, and your pelvis flexed eagerly up to meet his hand.  

“Hey,” he brushed his lips over yours, hovering there.  “I don’t ever go down on...clients,” he admitted to you, eyes finding yours, fucking his fingers slowly in and out, curling them up once they were deep inside of you. “You are special, I just thought you should know.”

“I like knowing that,” you said with a quiver in your voice, holding his face. “I want you inside of me.”

There was a condom in his wallet and he helped you guide it onto his cock after he pushed his jeans down, every bit the teacher.  You slid your shoulders down the couch, legs spread wide, exposing all of your holes for him.  Gripping your hip, he teased the tip at your entrance, eyebrows pinching together at the sensation.

“Without a condom, I’d probably blow a hole through you, baby, you’ve got me so hard.”

Your pussy was soaked, dripping from your folds down the condom on his cock.  “You’re the only one I want inside of me,” you were merely stating a fact, but it was just what he needed to hear, and he rose up on his knees, pulled your ass a bit further off the couch, and buried himself balls deep with a hard gasp.

He leaned forward to brace his forearms on the cushion at either side of your head, kissing you, thrusting in a few times as deep as he could go, skin smacking, your wetness now shimmering on the curly hairs at the base of his cock.

You were amazed at how your body knew how to respond, even though you had absolutely no clue what you were doing.  Bucking your hips up to meet him was your favorite, and then every now and then, he’d swivel his hips, holding your legs out.  

“That was a fancy move,” you breathed against his lips. 

“I save all my fancy moves for you, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

He brought his thumb in to play with your clit.  “I want you to cum with me.”

You didn’t know if that kind of tandem miracle was possible, but you were willing to try.  You brought your fingers in to work your slick juices over just the right spot, and Eddie sat back to watch you. He was observing and taking notes.

“You stretch me out so good,” you whined, getting into the swing of things, swiping your fingers faster, not phased at all by the way the parts of your body you hated were all hanging out for him to see.  

“Shit,” Eddie bucked. “You’re gonna make me cum right now if you talk like that.”

“You’ve ruined me for everyone with your big cock, baby,” you continued. “No one will ever fill me up like you do.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, holy shit,” Eddie cried out.

You could feel the peak approaching but then Eddie pushed in a bit too eagerly, and his cock slipped out and dove up into the folds of your pussy.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” you called out, clutching his shoulder, begging him to work the head of his cock on your clit.

“Fuck baby fuckkkkk,” he hissed, thrusting his hips, fucking your folds with the underside of his cock.  “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

And then, it was you who was cumming, babbling, riding the wave as Eddie cock dipped back inside, needing to feel like he was pumping it inside of you, worshiping you from the inside with his seed.

In the aftermath, his head lowered, hair hanging down, he enjoyed the slip of your cum, feeding you the shaft a few more times. 

Eddie was about to pull you against him to watch Movie Macabre for real this time, but when you came out of the bathroom, you were fully dressed with your bag over your shoulder and a distinct look of goodbye on your face.

“I should get going,” you announced, picking at some loose skin around your cuticle.  

Eddie stood from the couch, fixing himself, making sure the zipper was up on his jeans.  He didn’t have a shirt on, exposing the cut lines at his hips and trail of hair below his belly button.

“Sure, sure, um,” he looked around, hands on his hips.  “You don’t have to go.  I mean, you could even stay here, if you wanted. I could set my alarm if you have to get up early.”

You wondered what he charged for overnight stays.  Would you receive a bill on Monday for two full days worth of gigolo time? You had no idea what his rates were, and you still knew you couldn’t afford it.   The voices in your head were telling you what a gullible, cock drunk fool you were. While in the bathroom, you realized that everything he said was way too good to be true.  No man had ever wanted you this bad, nor would they ever.  A part of you was even harboring some anger towards him for being deceitful and making you feel things you’d gone 3 decades without.

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat. “For this.  I have a big day tomorrow, so,” and then you turned without another word, headed for the door.

Eddie hustled after you.  “Okay, so, I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow, yeah? We’ll go together?”

“Actually,” you gave him your profile.  “I think it would be better if  you just met me at the venue.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said quietly.  He was having a hard time reading you. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay, thanks again,” you said in a rush. 

“Hey, wait—-” but you were already out the door and hurrying down the driveway to your car, afraid to look back.  

---------

Thank you for reading!

[lvis44]

Sweet Escape - Epilogue // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Smut 18+ MINORS DNI, Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Light Angst, Not Edited

Word Count: 9.4k+

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: Alas, here is the long awaited Epilogue. Thank you everyone for being patient with me, this became a bit of its own story and I had to stop myself from continuing (read my note at the end and let me know your opinions, I won't ask here as to not spoil anything.) I have loved writing this and I can't wait to continue this little journey with all of you wonderful babes. Thank you so much for all the love on this story, I'm glad you all seem to love it as much as I do!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Colorado was one of your favorite places to be with Lewis, especially when it was just the two of you. You spent so much of your relationship flying around the world and stealing moments to be alone together. It could be difficult at times, especially race weekends. Lewis had a tendency to become a different version of himself from the first step into the paddock on Thursday to the second he left on Sunday evening, there was a hard shell around him most of the time, determined and focused. It was never a bad thing, simply something to navigate. He always found ways to make sure you knew how grateful for you he was, even in the simplest ways. When you would both arrive in Colorado, tucked away in the mountains, every guard he had built would come down, it’s when you got the utmost access to the love of your life. That's why you were shocked when he had sent you your travel plans for the week. You had talked with him multiple times about meeting him in Colorado for his time off, spending time just the two of you after too long being apart. Without consulting you he had changed your plans, scheduling another family trip, another trip to the Caribbean. You hadn’t been back to the island since the beginning of your relationship, almost exactly a year ago. Your anniversary would be coming up in the next week and you wanted to spend it with him, however life and work got in the way, forcing you to be apart from him for an already two week stretch. That is why Colorado had been the perfect plan, just the two of you only a few days after your anniversary, now you would be with all your friends in a place you had many mixed emotions about. You understood that he didn’t have the same opportunities to see everyone, rarely being in town for parties and dinners, but selfishly you truly didn’t want to share him. 

The second you received the surprise email with your travel itinerary you were on the phone. It only rang once before he picked up.

“Hey baby, I’ve only got a second. What's up?” He sounded out of breath through the line and you wondered if you had interrupted his training, not that you cared at the moment.

“We’re going to the island?” You got straight to the point.

“Yeah, I mean I bought the house, we might as well use it.” He chuckled, ignoring the fact that your plans had been drastically changed. 

“I know that, but I thought we had plans.” Your voice came out whinier than you had meant it to, unable to hide your disappointment.

“Yeah, shit, I’m sorry babe. I meant to talk to you about it but Charlotte and Miles were on my ass about another family trip and I just scheduled everything for the next second I had off.” He tried to reason, not helping your disappointment. It was strange for him to not consult you about plans he was making, more often than not he would check in with you more than necessary. 

“I know you want to see everybody but I wanted to spend time with you, celebrate our anniversary together.” You knew you were fighting a losing battle, everything was set in stone and he wouldn't disappoint your friends.

“We’ll still be together sweetie, we’ll have more than enough time to celebrate our anniversary, I promise.” His words were soft and you could tell he was trying to end the conversation. There was no point in continuing the argument.

“I know, I know, I just miss you.” You conceded.

“I miss you too, more than you know, but in just over a week I’m all yours. Gonna give you the biggest fucking hug.” He sighed, also feeling the effects of not being together.

‘You’re not going to be all mine, that's the problem’ you thought to yourself, deciding not to say anything, it wouldn’t help the situation in any way.

Before you could respond he was already saying his goodbyes, “I gotta go, m’sorry, but I’ll call you later and I’ll see you soon. I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you Lew.” You said solemnly, wishing for just a few more moments with him, even if over the phone.

…

The next week and a half dragged on for what felt like a year, communication from him was slim, even on your anniversary. He had messaged you a picture of the two of you from a few months ago, it was a selfie taken in some random hotel overseas, you were pressed up against him with your face in his neck, a massive smile across both of your faces. His message had been simple and cheeky “Thank you for giving me a chance and putting up with me for a whole ass year, I love you more than I could ever let you know xx.” When you messaged him back it had gone unanswered. You couldn’t understand what was going on with him, his lack of communication was incredibly out of character and it was starting to irritate you.

By the time that you arrived at the large vacation house, your mood was sour. Your flight was long and lonely, your friends flying out at different times and from different places. When you arrived everyone was already there. You were irritated with Lewis and his lack of communication and care for the wrench in your plans. Seeing the house again as you pulled into the driveway brought very mixed emotions, on one hand it was the place you finally found the love of your life, on the other it was the place where you spent a week fighting with your best friend and thinking that you had lost him. When you stepped out of the car, Lewis was already there waiting for you, a big smile on his face and open arms ready for you.

“Well hello there pretty lady.” He said, engulfing you in a hug before you even had the chance to close the car door.

It was hard to stay mad at him as he wrapped himself around you, his embrace feeling like coming home. He buried his face into your neck as he squeezed you so hard you thought you were going to burst.

“Hi.” You answered softly, taking in his familiar scent.

When he finally pulled away he didn’t go far, his large palms coming up to cradle your cheeks. His smile was so big it looked like his face would split in two.

“God I fucking missed you.” He sighed before pulling you in for a heavy kiss. It was like he was trying to pour every kiss you would have received in the last few weeks into one.

You're not sure how long you stood there kissing him, enjoying being with your partner after way too long. It wasn’t until you heard a gagging sound from behind you that you pulled away from him.

“Jesus, I’m all for you two being in love and shit but damn, I don’t need to see all that.” Miles complained from behind you while grabbing your bags.

“Oh fuck off, I haven’t seen my girl in two weeks, I’ve got shit to make up for.” Lewis laughed, his hand coming down to firmly grab your ass.

“Two weeks? I ain’t seen you in two months, where the hell is my kiss?” Miles continued in a jokingly distraught voice.

“Come and get it.” Lewis teased him, puckering his lips like a child, still not letting go of you.

“I’d rather kiss a frog,” Miles deadpanned, “now let go of Y/N so I can give her a hug.”

Lewis very reluctantly parted from you, not going far as Miles wrapped his broad frame around you, squeezing you tight with a kiss to your head that made you giggle. The second Miles let you go, Lewis was already grabbing your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and giving it a squeeze. When you turned to look at him he was already staring at you, a soft smile on his face and a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. You gave him a questioning look but all he did was shake his head and lean down to peck your lips quickly before ushering you into the house after Miles.

‘Well look who’s finally here!” Charlotte's voice came through the kitchen loudly the moment she saw you.

It only took a few seconds before you were wrapped in yet another tight hug, as if you hadn’t seen her only a week ago. You two had gotten lunch shortly after Lewis had changed your plans, and while you didn’t want to complain to her, you did try to get any information possible as to why Lewis had been acting so strange. She hadn’t said much, simply brushing it off by saying he must be busier than usual, but you could tell she knew something else and it had been eating away at you.

After saying your hellos to everyone you found a moment to quietly excuse yourself from the kitchen, heading down the hall to the room Lewis had stayed in last time, the room you had ended up moving into the night you finally got together. When you got to the doorway you paused, seeing unfamiliar luggage in the room. You had traveled with Lewis enough at this point to pick his luggage out from the most packed carousel in the world, and his was nowhere to be seen, neither was yours. As you stood there confused, a pair of strong arms came around your waist, pulling you back against a firm, warm body. You turned in his arms, his chocolate brown eyes coming into view.

“Sorry, I forgot to mention we’re not staying in here, Miles and his girlfriend are.” Lewis said softly.

You had met Miles’ girlfriend a few times now and you had to say she was one of the sweetest people he could have ever found. You were very happy for him but at this moment you were slightly irked at that concept.

“Not to sound like a bitch, but really?” You said with a huff, making Lewis chuckle.

“Babe, it’ll-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, Lew, I mean, it’s your house and we’re supposed to be celebrating our anniversary. I don’t even want to be here, I wanted to be in Colorado with you and just you but I didn’t want to sound ungrateful or anything. I know you don’t get to see everybody all that often but I feel like you don’t even care that it’s our first anniversary together, it seems like it’s an after thought for you, if it’s even a thought at all.” You rambled your emotions to him quietly, not wanting to offend anyone.

Lewis frowned, his brows furrowed in concern, “Hun, I absolutely care, and I’m sorry for changing our plans like that,” He paused, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “but if you’d let me show you something I think you might change your mind about being here, just a little bit.”

You let out a sigh, shrugging, still not fully feeling like your anniversary was a priority to him.

“Hey, look at me, we’re going to have an incredible anniversary week together, in the place we first admitted we were in love with each other. There’s a part of the property I didn’t get to show you last time we were here, come with me and then you can decide if you still hate the idea of celebrating here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing your hands and urging you to follow him.

“Are we gonna see you two again tonight?” Charlotte called out teasingly as Lewis pulled you through the back doors.

“Maybe, maybe not, don’t count on it.” Lewis yelled back over his shoulder with a laugh.

You gave him another questioning look but he just told you to hurry up and pulled you quicker behind him. He took you to the forest, near the path you’d always taken down to the beach but this time veered off on a different small path that you had never really noticed the last time you were here. You were now walking next to him, his hand firmly grasping yours as you started to see a trail of sparkling lights illuminating the small path as the sun was going down.

“Watch your step love, there’s a few steps down right here.” Lewis’ voice pulled you out of the trance you had fallen into while admiring the pretty lights.

He held your hand while you took the few steps down before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you under his arm, making your walk slightly clumsy.

“I know you would rather we were in Colorado, just the two of us, and I’m sorry, I really am. I wasn’t thinking when I booked this trip in all honesty, and I know that sounds bad, Charlotte yelled at me as soon as she saw the dates. Just, I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that it was our anniversary, it doesn’t feel like it could possibly be our one year because I feel like we’ve been together forever. So I know I fucked up, but I’ve also had this plan for bringing you back here for quite a while and I’ll be honest when Miles mentioned coming here for vacation I jumped on the opportunity, I needed to. And I know this isn’t exactly what you envisioned or what I promised and I’m sorry for that but I was hoping that maybe this could be our little sanctuary, make us forget that anyone else even exists.” Lewis’ apology is sweet but leaves you with more questions, wanting to know what his need to be back here so badly was.

You round the corner with him, walking out onto a part of the beach you hadn’t seen before, nestled into an alcove you hadn’t previously explored. That's when you see a small bridge, leading to the most beautiful bungalow sitting atop the water. You gasp, seeing it lit up with beautiful lights, making it sparkle.

“It’s technically supposed to be the guest house,” Lewis begins quietly, “but I figured it could be our little vacation from the group vacation. Somewhere it can be just us.”

You turn toward him, your eyes glassy, “It’s beautiful Lew, thank you.” You lean up to press your lips against his softly.

“Another bonus is you can be as loud as you want down here.” He whispers cheekily against your lips, pecking them once more.

“Lewis!” You laugh, swatting at his chest as you blush.

He catches your wrist with a big smile, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before grabbing your hand and pulling you along down to the bungalow.

“God, do we have to hike it all the way back up there to get our luggage?” You groan, realizing you have nothing with you.

“Nope,” Lewis laughs, “Miles decided to be helpful and already lugged it all down here, I unfortunately owe him.”

When he opened the door, you found yourself speechless. There was a small kitchen directly through the front door, nothing fancy but enough that you would never have to leave if you didn’t want to. As you walked past the kitchen and down the short hallway the room opened up. There was a bathroom with a large shower and a large soaker tub to your right and a lush king size bed to your left. Large windows lined the whole left side of the bungalow, a small seating area just below them. Straight ahead of you were large sliding doors that Lewis was already moving to open, once he did, the whole front wall was open.

“There’s a screen we can shut if it gets too buggy but I want you to see it like this first.” Lewis explained, already knowing you would be worried about strange bugs in your bed.

He outstretched his hand to you once again, pulling you out onto the patio. What you were met with amazed you even more than the inside. There was a hot tub off to the side, already bubbling away, more sparkling fairy lights lining the pergola that covered part of the patio. There were two large chaise lounges overlooking the endless view of the sea. He was already guiding you down another small set of stairs where you were met with a small infinity pool, just beside the pool was an outdoor shower. You spotted another set of steps that appeared to go off directly into the sea.

“Babe, it’s-” You were at a loss for words as you turned to him, not quite knowing how to sum up how incredible everything was.

He smiled, stepping in front of you and placing his large hands on your waist, “I know it’s not exactly what you envisioned, but I do want this to be special. I’m so sorry I fucked up our first anniversary, I promise I’ll do better with every single one to come.”

“It’s not what I envisioned, and I am still annoyed you forgot our anniversary,” You tease before becoming more serious, “but Lew, this is perfect, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Hey, I didn’t actually forget, it was a momentary lapse in judgment.” He playfully defends himself, pulling you closer to him.

“Whatever you say mister,” You laugh, “but I love it. I love you.”

He wastes no time in pressing his lips to yours, mumbling “I love you too, so much more than words could ever explain.”

“As much as I want to stay right here and kiss you forever, I really want to take a shower, I feel disgusting from all the flying.” You say when you finally separate from him.

“How about I run us a bath and we cuddle up and start to enjoy our belated anniversary celebrations.” He suggests, having you immediately nodding.

“Okay, you stay here and enjoy the view, I’ll come get you in a minute.” He says, squeezing your hip as he presses a kiss to your temple.

As he makes his way back up to the bungalow you settle into one of the comfy chairs overlooking the beautiful view. There’s still a slight annoyance in the back of your head at his admission of not even thinking of your anniversary when he planned this trip but you can’t help but be grateful that you will at least have him to yourself in some way this week. It may not be exactly what you had envisioned but you’re just happy that you will get to spend time with him. You understand what he was saying earlier, it doesn’t seem like it should be your one year anniversary, you truly feel like you’ve been with him forever. You practically live together, the most you possibly can with his ridiculous schedule. You’ve loved him far longer than you’ve been with him, and you’ve had the support and care of a partner from him since the day you met him. You know you’re going to be with him forever, nothing else would make sense, you could never fathom the idea of not being his now that you have him. You get lost in your thoughts as you wait for him, staring out over the beautiful ocean as you play through memories of your relationship like a highlight reel in your head. The first time he took you on a romantic getaway, the first time he introduced you as his girlfriend to his family, your first christmas together, your birthdays. Everything about him has felt like a fairytale.

“Hey baby, the bath is ready.” His soft voice startles you with its close proximity, you hadn’t even noticed him sit down on the arm of the chair next to you.

He chuckles when you jump, soothing his palm over your back, “Off in your own little world, were ya?”

“Oh shush, I was just enjoying the view.” You laugh along with him, moving to get up and follow him to the bathroom.

When you step into the bathroom you find yourself speechless yet again. The tub is up against a large window you hadn’t noticed earlier, giving you a spectacular view. He’s opened the window to let the warm breeze in, making the flames of the candles he’s placed around the room flicker in the wind. He has soft music playing and the tub is full to the brim with bubbles that smell like heaven. The lights are off except for a small light giving off hues of sunset, dimly illuminating the room. His hands are on your hips from behind, hiking up your shirt as he places soft kisses along your shoulder. He crouches down ever so slightly, kissing your spine as he pulls down your shorts and panties all at once. He places the softest of kisses to the back of your thighs before standing once more. When you turn to undress him, he’s already taken his shirt off, leaving you to push his shorts down his toned thighs, chuckling when you see he’s gone commando. He just shrugs, giving you a cheeky smirk before pulling you in to kiss him tenderly. For a moment you wonder if you will even make it to the bath as his hands roam your body, taking handfuls of the flesh that he loves to knead in his large palms. He eventually parts from you, leaving soft pecks all over your face before stepping around you and sinking down into the tub with a soft sigh. He simply stares at you for a moment, his face showing nothing but love and adoration, finally he outstretches his hand to help you in.

You lean back against his chest, reveling in the feeling of the firm muscles under his soft skin. His chin hooks over your shoulder, placing a kiss to your cheek as his arms snake around your waist to pull you in closer to him.

“Happy anniversary my love.” He whispers against your skin before he’s reaching over the edge of the tub to grab two glasses of champagne you hadn’t noticed before. He hands you one, clinking his glass against yours before rubbing his nose along your jaw up to your ear, “This has been one of the worst seasons of my career, yet one of the best years of my life, only thanks to you. You have made me happier than I ever knew possible and I hope that I have been able to reciprocate that for you. I plan on spending every day trying to make you the happiest, most loved woman on the face of this earth, because that is all that you deserve in life. You are the most remarkable human I have ever had the honor of meeting, Y/N. Thank you for letting me love you, and thank you for loving me the way that you do.”

By the end of his speech there are tears in your eyes. Looking at him you see the same glassiness mirrored in his own, knowing just how much he meant each and every word he whispered into your ear.

“I love you more than life itself Lewis, and I will never stop loving you. I’m sorry I was moody earlier, I was being petty. All I need to be happy is you, as long as you’re around, I am the happiest I can ever be. I’m already the happiest woman on earth simply because I get to say that I am loved by you, it’s truly something I don’t think I could ever explain to anyone. Thank you for all of this, it’s perfect, truly.” You tell him sincerely, your voice thick with emotion.

“Don’t apologize sweetheart, you had every reason to be annoyed with me. I hope you know it wasn’t remotely intentional, and I should have talked to you about it, even if it was after I’d made the plans. I’m sorry I’ve been a bit MIA this past week.” He further apologizes, holding your eyes with his to show just how serious he is.

You can see the remorse written across his face, never one that was good at hiding his emotions once he’s let them be seen for the first time. It’s as if once the floodgates that are Lewis’ emotions are opened to you, there is no closing it, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

“Have you been okay?” You ask him, adjusting in his lap so you can look at him better, bringing your hand up to stroke the short stubble at the side of his jaw.

He furrows his brows in question, “Yeah, I’ve been fine. I’ve just been really busy these last few weeks, been planning something that I need to get perfect.”

“Oh? And what exactly have you been planning Sir Hamilton?” You ask him jokingly, yet always wanting to know what he’s working on, always interested in the amazing things he does.

He looks down, averting his eyes from you, looking suddenly shy, “You’ll see when the time’s right, soon, I promise.”

“Mm’kay.” You hum out, taking a sip of your champagne before nuzzling into his chest, resting your head on his shoulder.

He just chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body, tightens his arm around you to rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“I love you, happy one year.” He whispers to you.

“I love you, happy one year.” You repeat as you grin into the skin on his neck, placing a chaste kiss there.

If anyone had asked you how you thought you would be spending your one year anniversary with the love of your life, this would have never been your answer. The two of you cuddled in the warm bath, listening to the sound of the waves crashing, hidden away from your friends in your own private Caribbean bungalow. You had expected him to make a move while you were in the tub, but he didn’t, leaving you slightly shocked but not entirely disappointed. You hadn’t seen him in nearly three weeks and you could feel him pressed against your leg, hard and begging to be touched, it was unlike the two of you to not immediately pounce on one and other the second you were alone. Yet something about the moment with him in the tub felt more intimate than sex ever could, the two of you just enjoying being in each other's arms, each other’s presence, knowing you had more than enough time to reunite later on.

“Where do you want to be in five years?” Lewis asked quietly, breaking the comfortable silence as his hand traced slow circles on your hip.

“Five years?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him.

“Yeah.” He shrugged like he was trying to play it off as a casual question, his face giving him away.

“Well,” You start, pausing to think a bit, “I want to be with you-”

“Well obviously.” He cut you off with a playful smirk.

“Hey, you didn’t let me finish.” You laugh.

“Sorry, I’m usually good about that,” He winks, “continue.”

“Idiot,” You mumble through a laugh before continuing, “I want to be happy, surrounded by people I love. I’d like to be in a different job, I think, something where I have more flexibility. I just want to be someone that me now would be proud of.”

He smiles fondly at you, evidently content with your answer.

“What about you?” You prompt him, genuinely curious.

“I think I want to be done with racing, moving on to a new chapter of my life, with you by my side obviously.” He says quietly.

“You really think you’ll be done in five years? I know you’ve mentioned it before but, do you really think so?” You ask.

“Yeah, we’ve been going over my contract a lot these last few weeks and I think my mind is finally set. I obviously want to get the eighth title, but if that doesn’t happen in the next five years, maybe it was never meant to.” He explains.

“It’s always been meant to, if anyone can it’s you Lew.” You argue.

“I don’t mean that in a way of me giving up, I’m gonna fight like hell until the last possible second. I just mean that maybe now there are more important things for me to start focusing on, other purposes out there for me where my attention and time will be more valuable.” The way he says his words sounds like he’s talking about much more than a career change and it makes your stomach flip in anticipation, imagining your future with him.

“Whatever you end up doing, I’m positive it will be incredible, everything you do is tremendous. And I will be right there supporting you the entire way.” You tell him sincerely, leaning in to press your lips to his.

The kiss is slow and savoring, it mutes everything in your head, making the world revolve around him and only him.

“The water’s starting to get a bit cold, why don’t we get out. I’ve got some ways I can warm you up.” He murmurs against your lips.

“There he is.” You laugh, pulling away.

“What do you mean?” He giggles.

“You’ve been rock hard against my leg for the last thirty minutes and haven’t made a single move on me, I was starting to get worried about you.” You tease him.

“Oh, believe me, I’m well aware of how hard I’ve been.” He playfully rolls his eyes, “I was trying to be romantic.”

“Mmmm, I see.” You hum.

“Genuinely though, I was just enjoying cuddling with you, didn’t want to ruin the moment. But I need you. Now.” His voice gets lower as he finishes his statement, picking you up and standing abruptly.

His quick movement makes water slosh over the edge of the tub, causing you to squeal. He grabs a towel, not using it to dry either of you off but throws it down on the bed before dropping you on top of it.

“You know we could have done this exactly where we were?” You laugh at him as he crowds up against you, already placing hungry kisses down your jaw.

“Maybe, yeah, but it would be a bit hard to pin you down in the tub, I don't really want to drown the woman that I love.” He chuckles against you, grabbing your wrists to bring them above your head.

This is one of the things you’ve always loved with Lewis. You can be in the middle of something so erotic and intimate, yet still be laughing and making jokes with him. He truly is your best friend in the form of a lover.

His lips are trailing down your bare skin, causing your laughter to halt and goosebumps to erupt over your whole body. He doesn’t take even a moment to tease you, immediately diving into your core, licking a hot stripe from your opening all the way to your nerves. You gasp as you arch into him, a throaty groan coming from deep inside him. He always wears you out when you’ve been apart for some time, as if he’s making up for lost time.

“Always taste so fucking good. God I missed you.” He mumbles against your heat, the sound vibrating through your body.

He works his tongue in the way only he knows how, circling your clit perfectly before sucking it into his mouth, nibbling just enough to have your toes curling. You feel one of his fingers slip into you, already soaking wet from just being so close to him. His finger curls, expertly finding the spongy spot inside of you that he knows so well.

“Fuck, Lewis, yes, right there.” You breathe out, your head tilting back into the towel underneath you.

He slips a second finger in, scissoring them to get you ready for him, before returning to a steady ‘come hither’ motion inside of you. He knows he needs you to come at least once before he finally takes you, it’s been too long and he never wants you to be uncomfortable, and he’s doing everything in his power to get you there. Fast.

“That feel good babygirl? You missed me making you feel good?” He asks, already knowing the answer from your flushed cheeks and mouth hung open.

All you can do to respond is moan and buck your hips up toward him, your ability to speak already gone from the moment he put his lips on you.

“Yeah pretty girl? You been trying to make yourself feel good while I’ve been gone?” He continues with his questions, evidently enjoying how difficult it is for you to respond as his thumb finds your clit, flicking quickly.

You nod, turning your head to the side as you let out a loud moan when a third finger slips inside of you.

“Poor baby, it doesn’t feel this good does it? Doesn’t feel as good as me inside of you, can’t make yourself cum the way I can?” He’s moved up so he’s hovering above you, his fingers still working overtime to get you to your peak.

You feel your stomach tighten at his words, knowing he’s right, and then your orgasm rips through your body, soaking his hand. He barely lets up with his movements as he works you through it, kissing your throat, your cheek, your forehead, anywhere his lips can land to work you down from your high.

“You know how I know it’s not the same?” He asks, his voice deep and filled with lust.

You hum, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Because it’s never the same for me either. No matter how many times I wrap my hand around my cock, it will never come close to the feeling of being inside you. Nothing makes me feel the way you do, nothing will ever come close. I always need you, nothing but you.” His words are mumbled against your skin as he draws his lips up your neck before finally attaching them to your own.

You don’t know where you find the strength but you manage to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close as you open your mouth for him. He licks into your mouth, his tongue toying with your own as he rests most of his weight on you, something that you have grown to love. You find yourself bringing one of your hands down in between the two of you, grasping his hard cock. He groans into your mouth at the simple touch, evidently pent up from the time in the tub. You work him in slow strokes, savoring the feeling of his silky, hot skin. Your thumb swiping over his swollen tip to collect the leaking precum. He whimpers at the feeling, his head falling into the crook of your neck before he's grabbing your wrist.

“Y/N, baby, I’m gonna need you to stop or I’m gonna cum before I even get the chance to be inside of you.” His voice sounds pained as he pins your wrist up next to your head.

Within seconds he’s readjusting and you feel the fat head of his cock pressed against your opening. He stares deep into your eyes as he pushes in slowly, both of your mouths falling open in pure ecstasy at the feeling of finally being connected. It’s truly a feeling like no other, it feels like coming home after a long stressful week, it feels like falling into the comfiest bed, like being wrapped in a hug by someone you love. It completes you. His forehead falls to rest against your own as he stills inside of you, finally bottomed out.

“Please.” You whimper, bringing your legs up around his hips.

He lowers himself down onto you, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of your head, “I’ve got you baby, I know.”

Slowly he starts to pull out before thrusting back in with a certain force that quenches every need in your body. You grasp his bicep next to your head, your hand not able to reach all the way around it. He’s crowded over you, making you feel small and fragile, his strong broad frame engulfing you entirely. With every thrust he has your head spinning more and more. His eyes are trained on your face, always obsessed with seeing how you fall apart underneath him. His calculated, practiced moves make sure you will do just that. You can see the veins starting to pop out in his strong neck, using all his restraint to not cum before you, his whimpers becoming more frequent. You aren’t prepared, unaware you were so close to your orgasm, when it shoots through your body, even more violent than the first.

“Fuck, squeezing me so tight Y/N, I’m gonna-” His words are cut off with a guttural moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy before he’s spilling into you. Hot spurts of cum lacing your walls as you feel him twitch inside of you, a feeling you’ve become obsessed with.

He’s still pulsing inside of you as he relaxes down onto your body, momentarily crushing you but you welcome it, finding some semblance of strength to rub your fingers up and down his back. He peppers kisses along your neck, mumbling sweet nothings that you can’t hear through the ringing in your ears. The first thing you hear as you come back into yourself is a mumbled “I love you”. You lay there together, his weight bearing down on you as he stays deep inside of you, a frequent occurrence after time away, never ready to part from each other. Finally after some time he raises up to slip out of you, making you wince.

“I know baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’s whispering, pressing light kisses to your cheek.

“I’ve really missed you these last few weeks.” You confess to him, your post orgasm brain feeling more open than usual.

“I know sweetie, I’ve missed you like crazy too. I’m sorry it was so long this time.” He says, kneeling in front of you, massaging your thighs.

You take a moment to admire him. A few of his braids have fallen from their usual bun, framing his beautiful face. The moon is shining in through the open window behind him, making him glow as though he truly is an angel placed on earth. His tattoos are dark against his tan skin, swirling black that you’ve spent hours tracing as you fall asleep or wait for him to wake up. He is your person and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Look, I know we just took a bath, but what if we hop in the shower really quick and get properly cleaned up and then I can make us a snack.” He offers, pulling at your ankle.

You just nod, letting him maneuver you up and out of the bed and into the shower. While this may not be the anniversary you had expected with him, you are more than content in this moment, just happy to be with the man that you love, and that loves you so much.

. . .

The moment you arrived back up at the main house you had been teased endlessly for not coming back up the night before. You had blushed like a highschooler but Lewis seemed proud, not having a care in the world that all of your friends were well aware how you two had spent the night.

“Ya know what? It’s our anniversary week, let us fuck in peace.” He had said pointedly at Charlotte when she had finally gotten on his nerves.

You felt bad for Miles' girlfriend, Cleo. She hadn’t spent much time with the group before, much less Lewis, and was evidently unprepared for just how little filter there was with everyone. She sat at the island with wide eyes as Lewis and Charlotte bantered about your sex life. You had shot her an apologetic smile as you tried to redirect your boyfriend onto a new topic. After that the day went smoothly. You ended up laying around the pool, everyone occasionally going for a swim or throwing around a football, just enjoying finally being away from their hectic lives.

You ended up sitting with Cleo for a little while, hoping to get to know her a little bit better. You already quite liked her, finding her to be a great fit for Miles. If she was dating your boyfriend's bestfriend you only found it fitting that you learn a little bit about her. You ended up chatting for quite some time, noticing that both Lewis and Miles would glance at you both from time to time, content smiles on their faces that their girls were getting along so well.

“Miles really likes you, ya know?’ Cleo had said, surprising you.

“I hope so, he’s one of my best friends.” You laughed.

“Well yeah,” She laughed with you, “but I mean for Lewis, if that makes sense.”

You gave her a questioning look, urging her to continue.

“He talks a lot about how glad he is that you two are together, that he’s never seen Lewis this happy.” She continued, “I don’t really know Lewis that well, I’ve only met him like twice, but from what I can see he really loves you. Nobody looks at somebody like that unless they’re head over heels.”

Her words made you blush, not expecting her to say something like that, “I really love him too.”

“I can tell.” Cleo responded with a smile.

“Alright, who’s ready to go out and get drunk?” Steph yelled from behind you, ending your conversation with Cleo.

Your mind immediately flashed back to the last time you had all been at the islands club together. You couldn’t help but wonder if Miles and Lewis would even be allowed back in. Your eyes flicked over to Lewis who was rolling his eyes and already making his way over to you.

“I’m gonna steal her if you don’t mind.” He said politely to Cleo as he was already pulling you up out of your seat.

“As much as I would love to go just to see Mariana-” You start.

“We’ll go see Mariana while we’re here, but some other time. They can all go out and get drunk, I have other plans for us tonight, if that’s okay of course.” He easily cuts you off.

You let out a sigh of relief, immediately nodding.

“Good, now I’m gonna go figure out how to let Steph down easily.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead before stepping around you and making his way over to your friend.

“Come on Lewis, it’s been forever since we all went out.” You hear Steph argue with whatever he says to her.

“First off, do you remember the last time we all went out here? Didn’t go too well. Second-” Before he can continue his rebuttal he’s being cut off by Charlotte who is shockingly on his side.

“It’s their anniversary week, tonight is very important Steph. Remember?” You can tell Charlotte is alluding to something that you are clearly out of the loop on.

You watch as Stephs eyes go wide before nodding quickly while Lewis mutters to Charlotte “Real subtle Char’.”

You look at Cleo who just shrugs her shoulders, obviously not aware of what's going on either.

Everyone eventually calms down and starts getting ready, heading inside to pregame as you and Lewis say goodnight. He is promptly pulling you back down to your private bungalow for whatever he has in store for you tonight. When you get inside, he is pulling the shades closed on the windows that overlook the beach. You give him a look, knowing it’s not for your own privacy.

“Okay, I want you to take a nice long shower or bath or get in the pool or something for a little while. I’m gonna go take care of some things and then I’ll come join you and we can get ready.” He explains vaguely.

“What exactly are you taking care of?” You question him, still rather confused.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll see soon enough. Just trust me, alright?” He shakes his head.

“Okay weirdo. Why’d you close the blinds?” You continue to question.

He lets out a small huff as he shakes his head with a smile, “You never stop with the questions, do you? Just trust me. Off you go.” He says as he turns you around, patting your butt, making you giggle.

You decide to spend some time in the pool, hearing him leave the small bungalow as you change into a different suit. When you slip into the pool you can feel the water cooling your toasted skin. You let yourself look out at the beautiful view, taking in the sounds and the scents that envelope you as you bask in your real life fairytale. You never thought that you would have this kind of life, being in beautiful places with an even more beautiful man who loves you so unashamedly, so wholeheartedly. You let yourself day dream about your future with him, how many kids you might have one day, where the two of you will inevitably settle down, what your wedding day will be like. You stay in the pool for what feels like a solid hour, still no sign of Lewis. You end up getting out, heading to take a shower when you hear other people's voices outside. Everything inside of you wants to run over to the window and peek at what might be going on outside but you restrain yourself, not wanting to ruin whatever it is that Lewis has planned for you. You end up staying in the shower much longer than usual, just enjoying the feeling of the water cascading through your hair and down your spine. A pair of broad arms wrapping around your waist surprises you, you hadn’t even heard him come in. He giggles at your shock, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. Wordlessly you step out from under the water, letting him shower, letting yourself admire him as you so frequently do before stepping out and wrapping yourself in a towel.

“Hey, I wanted some company.” He complains from under the shower head.

“If I stay in any longer I may turn into an actual prune.” You say, making him laugh

He’s much quicker with his shower than you had been. Coming into the bedroom as you stare at your suitcase.

“You know, it tends to be easier if you actually put the clothes on rather than just try to will them onto your body.” He teases you, pinching your hip.

“Well if I knew what I was getting dressed for it would be a hell of a lot easier.” You say to him, suddenly feeling stressed.

“Hey,” He says, sensing your unease, “wear whatever you're comfortable in, it’s just you and me.”

“But this seems special, I don’t want to mess it up.” You say, rummaging through your suitcase.

“It’s special because it’s us, doesn’t matter what you wear. There’s very little you could do to screw this up, I promise.” He says. 

You feel a small weight lift from your shoulders when you look up to see him slipping a t-shirt over his head. Part of you wonders if he did it just to make you feel better. You give him a soft smile, finally deciding on a sundress that is the perfect combination of cute and casual.

“Ready?” He asks, his hand outstretched, waiting for yours.

“Always.” You smile, taking his hand.

As he leads you out of the bungalow you feel your breath catch in your throat. If you thought the beach was beautiful before, you’re not sure quite what word you would describe it as now. He has had the beach lined with lights and candles, torches lining their way up to a beautifully set yet simple table. You can see that there’s a meal already waiting for the two of you on the table.

“Still trust me?” He asks quietly.

You just nod, looking around at the beautiful scenery, amazed that he made all of this happen. When you finally reach the table in the sand he is pulling your chair out for you.

“Madame.” He says playfully, gesturing for you to take a seat.

You giggle as he places a kiss to your cheek, moving around to his side of the table. He grabs the corkscrew off the table, taking the bottle of wine that was already waiting for the two of you.

“I wanted tonight to be special, and I wanted to be able to surprise you somehow. Sorry I locked you away for a bit.” He chuckles toward the end.

“Ah, how dare you lock me away in literal paradise.” You tease him, making him smile.

“You like it?” He asks and you can tell he’s nervous, not meeting your eyes as he pours you both a glass of wine.

“I love it Lew, it’s beautiful, thank you.” You tell him, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I wasn’t sure how to exactly pull off making you dinner without you noticing so I kind of cheated and hired someone, well I actually hired Mariana, she’s quite the cook. She was upset she couldn’t come in and see you, I promised we’d come see her later this week. I did the lights though.” You can tell he’s still nervous, rambling things quickly.

“Well I have to say the lights are incredible, and I’d love to go see them.” You say with a light tone but absolutely meaning it, you feel like you're in some sort of wonderland.

He finally pulls the cover off of your meals, making your mouth immediately water, it looks incredible. Lewis has taken you on endless incredible dates, but this one has to take the cake, the effort alone making you swoon. 

Once he is convinced that you are just as happy as you say you are, you can see him visibly relax. His whole demeanor shifting back to the light hearted, loving man that you know so well. Dinner carries on as usual, your conversations seamlessly going from joking banter to important life topics, the flow that you’ve always found yourself so comfortable in with him, even before you started dating. Once you’ve finished eating he’s bringing his seat closer to yours so he can wrap his arm around the back of your chair, pulling you into his warm side.

“You know last night when I asked where you wanted to be in five years?” He asks you quietly.

You hum, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Well, I left something out of my answer.” He says, confusing you. “I know I said I wanted you by my side, obviously, but I didn’t really elaborate enough.” He’s only confused you further.

Before you can question him, he’s standing from his seat and moving his chair back. You swear your heart stops when you look at him. He’s down on one knee in front of you, reaching into his pocket.

“Lew.” You croak out, not sure what else to say.

“I know, I know that to every other person on the earth, this probably seems insane. It probably seems so fucking quick, and hell it is, but Y/N, I know what I want, and what I want is you, forever. I have loved you far longer than I’ve ever let you know and I think the same goes for you. Since the day I met you I knew that you were going to be monumental in my life somehow, I just didn’t realize exactly how or quite how much. I love you more than I have ever loved anything before, I love you in a way I didn’t know was possible, in a way I didn’t even know I was capable of.” He pauses for a moment, finally opening the small box in his hand to reveal the most beautiful ring you have ever seen in your life, “I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow, we can still take our time, we have so much ahead of us. All I’m asking is that tonight you make me a promise, that one day you will be my wife. You’re my forever Y/N Y/L/N, let me be yours.”

There are tears streaming steadily down your face, not sure how to process everything he’s saying. You want to nod your head, you want to say yes, but you’re frozen, until those words finally slip through his lips.

“Y/N, baby, will you marry me?” His own voice catches in his throat as he asks the question, obviously nervous and overwhelmed.

“Yes,” you finally choke out, “oh my god of course, yes, fuck of course.”

Your cries are now turning into almost laughter, overjoyed and overrun with emotion.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding as if he doesn’t truly believe what he’s hearing.

“Oh my god, yes.” You cry through your smile as he stays frozen on his knee, his face breaking into a smile. “Kiss me you idiot.” You laugh.

Within seconds his lips are on yours, pulling you up out of your chair to hold you as close as humanly possible. You can taste the salt of your combined tears as you both laugh into the kiss, giddy with excitement.

“I know it’s so quick but I feel like we’ve been together so much longer than we really have. We can wait as long as you want, there’s absolutely no rush. I just need to know that one day you’ll be my wife, and I want the world to know that too.” He rambles when he finally pulls away.

“I know, I know, of course,” you laugh, kissing him again, “now give me my ring!”

He laughs at you, fumbling with the box slightly through shaky hands before finally sliding the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly and you can’t help but wonder if Charlotte helped him. The diamonds twinkle in the fairy lights surrounding your table as you admire the look of your engagement ring sitting on your finger.

“So do I have to wait to become Mrs. Hamilton?” You ask.

“Y/N, I would marry you tomorrow if you let me.” He says, kissing you again, your teeth clashing through your smiles.

“What were you going to do if I said no?” You ask him with a teasing tone.

“Honestly? I have no idea, but I was pretty confident you’d say yes.” He says, smirking.

“Is this why you needed to bring me back here?” You ask him, staring at your new ring.

“Yeah, it only felt right. Full circle.” He whispers, “This is also why I’ve been so awol recently. I was making last minute changes to the ring because it needed to be perfect and I was trying to plan this. I’ve been so excited and I know myself well enough to know that I would have let it slip if I was talking to you too much. I’ve never been able to lie to you.”

You can’t help but laugh at the fact that not only is that true, but the reason you had been so annoyed with him the last few weeks was actually a side effect of him planning the most beautiful, loving thing you could think of.

“Everybody knows, don’t they?” You giggle, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to keep it from at least Charlotte and Miles.

“Yeah, they’ve known for a while, longer than I’ve even had the ring.” He blushes.

“Lewis, I love you so much. Thank you, I can’t wait to marry you, I’m so glad you’re the man that will be by my side for the rest of my life.” You tell him sincerely, feeling yourself get emotional again at the thought.

“I love you too my darling, I wouldn’t dream of going through life with anyone else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Final Note: I had to stop myself from continuing on with this and adding a time jump and their wedding day, it was so tempting. Let me know, does anyone want a one shot of their wedding day at some point? Some cute pre-wedding jitters, vows, wedding night, etc?

I hope you all enjoyed!

[iphoenixrising]

Have I posted this? Alpha!Jon, Alpha!Dami, Omega!Tim 🤨

I told babe I was thinking about this, but I have done this before? Meh, regardless.

**

And really, when all things in Gotham are quiet, you know it’s going to be a good night.

B shouldn’t have worried enough to call Red Robin out of Titan’s Tower, but still, it’s nice to run through the city, skimming rooftops, getting a little more down n’ dirty with street baddies than riding the usual international espionage with his team. A few weeks away and this kind of thing is really just an itch that needs to be scratched.

“I am almost disappointed,” Robin laughs from beside him under the wing of a gargoyle right on the roof of the Wallstone apartments. His veggie wrap is disappearing quickly because Baby Bat has been a bottomless pit of hunger since he started putting on height and heavier muscle five years ago. Sixteen had been good for Dami, and Bruce’s genetics kicked into high gear two years later. At twenty-one, he’s broad through the chest and shoulders, almost a head taller than Red and a few sparse inches from Hood.

It was about the time Terry had approached him in Titans’ Tower, and convinced Red to start coming back to Gotham again, fighting the good fight along with the family, taking a step back into Gotham’s underworld when the world seemed to be momentarily stable. 

At some point, he and Dami started working together, stepping out in the night with masks on and old hurts finally easing. 

“Meh. There’s always another night,” Red takes another bite and sighs through his nose because really, chicken wrap for the win. 

(Alfred is always going to be the man.)

“I suppose. However, I’d hoped this wouldn’t have been an...exciting night for you to make the trip.” 

Red waves him off, looking down at the street, chewing for a second, “all good, Baby Bat. Everyone is out of the Tower for the weekend anyway. This is a nice break.”

Robin laughs low, “only you would consider this a break.”

“Well, you know, my Wednesdays are hectic as fuck.”

“I suppose it is difficult to schedule brunch, yes?”

“You don’t even know.”

And just like that, the two of them are laughing. A little bruised from a few street fights, but nothing extreme, and Dami is getting so much better at vigilante banter that Red Robin can’t help but feel a little proud.

(Really, witty banter is their superpower. Superboy and Kid Flash will totally vouch.)

They finish the wraps and swing side-by-side to the Bowery, talking shit over comms, playing tag around the strip mall down on 44th, and genuinely making themselves pretty obvious for people that actually look up.

It’s easy to jump in the big car at the end of the night, lean back to work on his wrist computer while Dami drives them back to the Manor.

“Hey, hey, you can just drop me a few blocks from the Perch.”

“Tt. Stay at the Manor tonight. You can brief me on R&D’s projects for the board meeting.”

“Pfft, like I need to.”

“Your perspective is always better.”

“Fine, fine. You’re so needy, Dami.”

“And yet, you still put up with me, Tim.”

“Well, you’ve got me there.”

And their smiles are wide in the darkness of the car, Robin and Red Robin riding back to the Cave with coffee waiting and hot showers to wash away the night. 

They meet back at the big computer, sweats and t-shirts, hair damp and bare faces, switching places from the main chair to their workstations, talking through the next week, repairing their gear or working on separate projects from their laptops. 

Alfred smears goop on bruises and gives a final please be certain to persuade Master Tim to actually sleep this time, won’t you Master Damian?, disappearing up the winding stairs, the calming scent of home lingering behind him, his natural Beta scent.

With his scent blockers scrubbed off, the air around Tim is faintly sweet, following him like the smell of a good latte. Dami’s scent is still more shampoo and soap since Nulls don’t really have a discernible scent to the second sex. 

And when they’re finally stretching and yawning, still a few hours to sleep before dawn, something in the air shifts.

One second, he’s got Dami laughing at the story about Bruce busting his bat ass against Mr. Freeze–while still being the Night, mind you– when Baby Bat stops abruptly, hand going down on Tim’s workstation top to catch himself when his knees unexpectedly give way.

Those eyes go wide, a hand going to his chest, fast and shocky enough that Tim sweeps forward to catch his youngest partner by pure instinct.

“Little D?! Dami, talk to me.” He keeps it calm, being Red Robin, staring at the sweat beading on the fourth Robin’s forehead while he gasps in a few fast and furious breaths. 

“T-Tim,” but his eyes flutter closed and his knees wobble, his weight falling further down on Tim’s shoulder.

Shit. Tim manages to maneuver Dami down to his chair, holding him steady, wracking his brain for anything, anything they could have come upon tonight. Fear toxin, Joker gas, Ivy’s array of poisons and venom, an awful rooftop burrito from the questionable cart downtown. Anything, anything he could have a cure for right here in the fucking Cave–

When he starts to move away, to jump in the Bat Med-Bay for a syringe to take a blood sample and start up the quickest analysis he’s ever pulled off before, when he’s tamping down panic to be on point, when he sees the distress happening when those eyes look up at him–

He completely misses the way Damian’s scent abruptly gets muskier.

A hand shoots out, grips his wrist, stops him from moving away.

“Okay, I’m getting worried. C’mon D. Tell me what’s–”

He reaches down, lays two fingers over the throbbing pulse, tries to get some vitals, and something deep and dark rumbles through Baby Bat’s chest, something all about need.

Oh.

Shit.

**

Most people present in their early teens, you know, about the time Robin had been a little dead, or so Tim’s sputtering thoughts try to explain away while the grip on his wrist gets tight, pulls quick enough to reel him in closer. The nose in his neck is a sudden indication since Dami as a Null had never really been able to scent like the rest of them.

The way the youngest vigilante is now inhaling against Tim’s throat like he’s dying, holding the Omega so fucking tight is the first piece of evidence. But when his mouth opens and a noise, a deep purr, rolls out against Tim’s jugular, he has an inevitable moment of oh fuck, panic.

Because he’s down in the Bat Cave with a presenting Alpha Male, and he probably smells like fucking dessert.

“D-Dami,” and he gives himself about a million vigilante points because his hands aren’t shaking when one cups the back of the new Alpha’s neck, fingernails scritching lightly at the fine hair. “Hey Baby Bat, it’s me here. I can help you, but you’ve got to ease up a little, okay?” He makes a small move to pull out of those arms, get Dami to actually look at him.

The whine is low, a noise he’s never heard out of their Robin before tonight, but those arms tighten on instinct, and now they’re pressed together from chest to hip and–and…

Oh.

“You’re going into a RUT?!”

Because of course. His luck is that awful.

“T-Timmm,” is growly and low, deeper than Robin’s usual voice, and Tim can’t suppress the shudder that goes through him.

“You’re presenting, better late than never, right?” He keeps petting even when something wet moves up the side of his throat, making a tremor go through him. “We need to–to call Jon, okay? He can help you.”

“Tim, you…” and there’s another lick to his throat, dragging over his skin like Dami’s savoring him.

“I-I’m not–” but Dami abruptly lets him go and drops down to kneel, shoving his face in the soft t-shirt over Tim’s stomach.

Hands are on his hips now, the tight hold gripping him.

He pulls the comm out of Dami’s ear, the presenting Alpha not flinching away, staying where he kneels, inhaling the scent of Omega.

Tim fumbles the comm in his ear, tapping frantically until the sound of whoosh is in the foreground.

“Hey babe,” Jon’s voice rumbles over the line, “have a good night with Red Robin?”

“Sorry, wrong Robin,” Tim stares down at Dami’s slack features with wide eyes, taking in the closed eyes, “We...that is, Robin needs you in Gotham ASAP.”

“Diverting course now,” is the immediate response, Jon’s voice changing to Superboy’s. “T, is he hurt?”

Unsure of who could be listening on the line, Tim makes a fast decision, tries to take a small step back. The hands tighten down immediately, Dami’s back straightening, eyes snapping open. The growl is something deep, vibrating the chest against his thighs, pulling at his inner Omega.

“He’s not hurt, but he might get out of control if I don’t get someone here quickly.” Tim gently lays a trembly hand on Dami’s shoulder, gets the Alpha to look up at him with those green eyes.

“Baby Bat, this isn’t...you don’t really want to do this, okay? Try to think for me, Dami. This is just because I’m an Omega, so I need you to try and think.”

“Wait, what?” Jon’s voice sounds horrified.

Shit. Forgot to tap the comm off. But, really, his inner Omega is starting to enjoy all the attention of an Alpha male, newly presented or not, so Tim totally gives himself an out here.

“Jon,” he tries to be calm, but Dami is lifting up his shirt and sticking his goddamned nose right in Tim’s belly button. His eep probably isn’t helping anything.

“Hold on, Tim, I’m almost there.”

The snuffles of breath against his stomach, brush of mouth, and Tim’s instinct to get the fuck away hits abruptly–

(Your boyfriend is going to kick my ass if he sees this.)

–and he moves fast, both hands on Dami’s wrist to loosen the hold and spin away from the Alpha male to give himself some space, pulling the current Robin off balance.

He ends up back by the big computer, eyes going wildly to his harness and utility belt discarded at his workstation.

The low growling reverberates through the Cave, making the bats above screech and start to flap around, and Tim’s whole body goes tight with what he’s sure to be an oncoming fight, wondering how that’s going to go with a rut-fevering Alpha, one that’s also his partner, his friend.

(The Omega in him doesn’t give a shit, just knows how good that musk smells, how much the Alpha is in need, how much it craves the attention, how much it wants.)

Dami’s eyes are glittering green, muscles tense as he stalks closer, eyeing the Omega he wants, the one that smells...delicious.

The rumbling purr breaks out of him again, something soft and soothing, meant to entice. 

“Don’t make me fight you,” Tim swallows, eyes all for Baby Bat getting closer to him, body language giving away everything. “Dami, I don’t want to hurt you.”

But it looks like his words are lost to the Rut haze since the Alpha only purrs louder, his musk stronger even in a place as spacious as the Cave. 

All right, then. It’s time to have a plan.

He feins right, darting half a step, then takes off near the bad guy trophies. The massive penny is probably a perfect distraction right about now. 

Dami leaps from his side, cutting him off, the Alpha manifesting in him giving chase. Tim manages to leg sweep him, escaping reaching hands. 

He doesn’t make it to the penny before Dami is pretty much body slamming him into the Cave floor, bigger hands pinning his wrists over his head, knees spreading him, and the growling Alpha is looming over him, the musk calling to his inner Omega.

“No! Dami, Dami!”

But the swipe of wet over his jugular makes his knees tremble, his back arch and not in that I’m trying to escape kind of way.

(But really, it’s been a long time, and he’s an Omega, the scent of a strong, able Alpha is like Fear Toxin or Joker Venom, it gets in his lungs, makes his inner Omega plaint, makes his scent stronger to appeal to the Alpha. Their bodies work against them.)

Dami’s free hand holds his jaw to the side so he can shove his nose in Tim’s scent gland and inhale deeply. He’s laying on top, their chests pressed together when the purring starts, and the rumble against him is obviously affecting him. 

He almost wants to cry when Dami rolls his hips down, and fuck, he’s– he’–

“No,” Tim moans in Dami’s hold, his hips juttering up because he’s starting to get hard, their sweatpants making it easy to tell. “We...we can’t. J-on, Dami, you’ve got to remember Jon–”

But he loses all thought when that mouth latches on to his throat and sucks.

He cries out, bucks up when his body responds with want. 

If he doesn’t do something fast, Jon is going to viciously–

“O-oh, oh wow, I…”

Because Superboy is suddenly right there watching Tim writhe on the floor under Dami, and Jon’s eyes are huge and blue, his face pink.

“It’s not–” Tim tries, “it’s just because I’m an Omega!”

“If you want to believe that,” Jon lands on his feet, moves easily to wrap both arms around his boyfriend to lift him off Tim without any effort. “Then I’m not the one to tell you differently, right Dames?”

The newly-presented Alpha tries to lunge out of the hold, to go back to the Omega scrambling to his feet.

Tim is sure his face is red enough to match Dami’s tunic, and he turns slightly to try hiding the obvious erection in his sweatpants.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tim sputters, arms around himself, “but if he did something to me while he’s very obviously dating you, he’d never forgive himself.”

But Jon seems very undisturbed about finding his boyfriend all over another guy, “sure, if we hadn’t already talked about it before. Him presenting as an Alpha this late wasn’t part of that though, so you might have a point.” Jon suddenly grins over the struggling Robin at Tim’s shocked face.

“Jon, he could barely stand me for years–” and the bitter scent of old pain takes over Tim’s sweetness because fuck, he’d wiped off the scent blockers.

But the change in scent makes Dami stop struggling against Jon’s hold, for both Alphas to suddenly have laser focus right on him. Caught up off his feet by Jon’s arms, Dami stops struggling, those green eyes intensely on Tim, hunched over slightly, holding himself.

“Oh Tim,” Jon sighs softly, and it comes out in a soft purr, “he’s been crazy about you for years. I mean, c’mon, you’re the best Robin detective!”

“But he’s with you. I-I would never do anything to fuck that up,” he’s starting to inch away, closer to the winding staircase, “you have to know that, Jon. I would never–”

“I gave him permission, Tim,” Jon cuts him off, “if you ever gave him the chance. O-or if you ever gave us the chance, we would take care of you."

Tim.exe has stopped.

"Geeze, do you even know how many times we talked about seeing you through your Heat? Even if he was a Null at the time, just talking about having you in bed with us was enough to make him go multiple times. I’m half-Kryptonian and I still had to tap out after round --“

“You would do that?” Tim cuts him off, voice strangely strained, “you would - you and Dami would - would take care of me? During my Heat?”

And Jon pauses in his ramble, only one arm around the presenting Alpha’s chest, still holding him slightly back. But Damian hears something in Tim’s tone that is upsetting. It makes him angry, makes him reach out an open hand in the hopes Tim takes it.

“Yes,” is edged with a growl, his hand open and waiting.

“We absolutely would take care of you, Tim, Heat or not. I swear, we won’t hurt you.” And Jon means it, says it unconsciously with his Superboy voice like Tim is a scared civilian and not a seasoned vigilante. “You would be safe with us.”

“I…” but his eyes dart to Jon who is churning out the most pleasant happy Alpha scent. “I can help make the Rut easier. If - If it- “

“Yes,” both Alphas growl at the same time, but Jon wasn’t holding Damian back anymore. 

It was both of them inching forward, Dani’s hand out, his other clenched in Jon’s cape, brining his Alpha mate with him.

"It's statically easier for Alphas to have an Omega the first time," he rambles breathlessly, watching them come closer, the tension in his shoulders easing at the scents. He seems to sway with bare feet, hand twitching toward what they're offering.

"It'll be easier if Dames has you, not just an Omega," Jon rumbles while Damian slyly snatches Tim's hand, reels him closer. "We've got a Rut room at his place in Wayne Tower."

"Bet mine is more secure in the Perch," Tim mumbles in Dami's neck, eyes rolling up to look at Jon while the presenting Alpha inhales sharply again his throat. The noise coming out of him reverberates through all three of them.

"Decision, decisions," Jon smirks over his mate's shoulder, nose barely skimming the other side of Tim's neck, a ghost of a touch.

It still makes a certain scent spike.

It's Damian that makes the final decision, lifting his head and one hand to pull Jon's mouth to his, growl and lick and bite while Tim watches, the tension in his abdomen getting tighter, warmer, the ust surrounding them as the Alphas fight for dominance.

Right in front of him.

The noise that comes out of Tim's throat is enough to spur someone into actions because--

-- the next second, the cave camera blur and the three disappear from sight, leaving behind discarded suits. Twenty seconds later, the lights click off for the night, leaving the bats to settle back down.

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 3 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I bare you this! The letter that Steve's dad leaves is literally something like my best friend's mom gave her. I was so shocked! Like what parent does this and talks this way!

Enjoy <3

Warning: Dom Steddie and Sub Plus size reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut of course with the angst and the fluff. Carol and Tommy are mean to the reader and embarrass her at Steve's party. Steve briefly talks about his trauma. The dad leaves a note for Steve basically telling him he needs to be better. Dirty talk for sure, chocking, slight degrading if you squint.

Word count: 4705

You nibbled on the fries in front of you as you watched Steve and Eddie talk to each other. How had you never known that they even knew one another? 

After you guys left the school, Eddie offered to drive you but you felt more comfortable taking your own car, following them to a diner right in the middle of downtown Hawkins. You couldn’t help but pause when Steve held the front door open for you, raising an eyebrow as he gestured inside. It was such an odd contrast especially when it came to him, seeing him be so polite. 

“Do you two come here a lot?” You blurted out your question a bit too quickly causing both their heads to turn towards you, giving you an odd look. 

“Like on a date or? I mean, Harrington doesn’t really treat me like the beautiful being I am but…”

“No, I mean…”, you giggled and they smiled. It was the first time since they met you that they genuinely heard you laugh. “Why didn’t I know you guys were friends? Even he said your friends don’t know about him.”

“That is a great question. Stevie? Thoughts?”

“We hang out.”

“Getting high in my trailer after school or on weekends doesn’t count.”

“Oh yeah? And what is this? What are we doing now?”, he chuckles.

“Does it bother you?”, you ask Eddie.

“I’ve never really thought about it if I’m being honest.”

“What are you doing?”, Steve asks with a sharp tone.

“I-I-I’m just trying…to get to know you. Understand.”

“Really? Because it seems like you’re trying to cause problems between me and Munson here.” 

Your eyes meet his annoyed ones filing with your own frustration. “Is that normal for you, Steve Harrington? To think everyone has a motive?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He turns to look at Eddie who smiles as he shrugs. “Well, look who found her voice all of the sudden.”

“Did you ever think maybe I always had a voice but it was constantly stifled by people like you!”

“Define people like me.”

“Stuck up, preppy daddy’s boys who only care about what other people think of him instead of growing a pair and just being himself!”

Eddie watched you both with a small smirk as you and Steve glared at each other. Something flashed through the man’s eyes before he glanced at the metalhead, nodding before rising from the table and heading out the door. 

“Wow, sweetheart. You really got under his skin.”

“I did?”

“Steve Harrington doesn’t just silently leave. He always has to have the last word. I’m betting it was the ‘daddy’s boy’ part.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, baby. You don’t.”

#################

The next day, Steve didn’t say a thing to you or even look your way. In class he sat where he was supposed to and during detention that afternoon, he placed himself behind Eddie on the opposite end of the classroom.

Eddie wasn’t out right ignoring you like his friend but he wasn’t really trying to initiate a conversation with you either. He grinned when you walked by during lunch and gave a loud “Hey, princess!” when you entered the room after school. 

On Friday, nothing changed and it killed you. You had no idea why but it did. Steve was still an asshole, right? Even though you admitted you didn’t hate him, you still didn’t care about him. Right? So why during your final afternoon in detention, are you staring at him as he doodled in his notebook?

I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. Is he going to ignore me forever now? Should I apologize? I miss his lips. Wait…what the fuck am I saying?! This is incredibly frustrating!

“Alright boys and girl, congratulations. You have made it through your week of punishment. Eddie I’m sure I will see you again. Steve and Y/N, please, for the love of God, behave.”

The three of you smile as you get up and exit the classroom. They both walk ahead of you as if they had no idea who you are. 

“Steve?” You call his name as soon as you enter the parking lot. When he doesn’t respond, you run ahead of them, trying to block their path. “Steve, please.”

They both shift around you as they continue to talk to each other. “You’re coming tomorrow night, right?”

“I’ll be there.”, Eddie grins. You watch in awe as they both get in their cars and Steve speeds away. “See you on Monday, sweetheart! Behave now.”, he winks before starting his van and disappearing down the road.

###############

“Why are we here?”, Masie asks as she looks around at all the drunk students. 

“Come on. It will be fun.”

It took some sleuthing but you found out from another girl on the basketball team that Steve Harrington was throwing a huge party on Saturday night. Your blood boiled as you realized he purposely invited Eddie in front of you to make you feel even worse. 

“I’m, um, I’m going to go find the drinks.”

“Please don’t leave me alone for long!”, your friend shouted as you left her side. 

Steve’s home was gorgeous, much nicer than your own. Kids were packed in tight as they danced to the music beating against the walls of the house. Carol’s hair came into your view and you hastily tucked into a nearby room. As you looked around you realized you must be in his father’s study.

There was a desk with papers scattered all over it. The bookshelf against the wall was filled to the brim with law books and encyclopedias. On a nearby table, you noticed a bunch of photographs of Mr. Harrington and his wife. 

Where are the pictures of Steve? Maybe he just doesn’t have any in here…that’s odd. You would think he would want to have pictures of his son close by where he works. 

You circled around to the desk, brushing papers aside as you skimmed them until something caught you attention. 

Steven,

I am very disappointed in your behavior as of late. You’re barely passing your classes. You haven’t gotten any better at basketball or swimming. You refuse to save any money for college (If you can even get into one at this point) and your mother found drugs hidden in one of your drawers. 

You spend a lot of time with that freak or girls you don’t intend on staying with. I am ashamed and so far, son, you are not living up to the Harrington name. 

I’ll give you one more year to shape up. If you can’t it together by graduation I will NOT pay for your schooling. Do you understand me?!

Sign and return to my desk. I will file it with my other investments when I get home. 

Sincerely,

Bill Harrington                                          

 X Steven Harrington

“It’s not polite to snoop, Y/N.”

You jump at the sound of his voice as you turn to find Steve leaning against the closed door with a drink in his hand. He smelled incredibly strong like liquor making your heart break. 

“Your father gave you this?”

He pushes off the wall, coming to stand beside you as he cranes his neck to look at the paper in your hands. 

“Yup. This is one of the tamer ones.”

“Steve, he talks about you like…your property.” He shrugs as he takes a seat in the office chair. “I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just a preppy, daddy’s boy who needs to grow a pair, right?”

Your head hangs as you place the letter back down on the desk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No. You didn’t.”

As you start to head for the door, something stops you. You spin around and his arms open in surprise when you place yourself on his lap, leaning your head on his shoulder. His chest heaves underneath you before his limbs come back down to wrap around you as his head leans against yours. 

The loud sound of glass breaking startles you both. “Fucking hell. I can’t have one God damn moment; I swear.” You slide off his lap and he angrily opens the door to find out what happened. 

You leave the room to find Masie who was sitting outside on one of Steve’s patio chairs talking to someone you two had class with. You joined her physically but mentally you were somewhere else. Sifting through the last few years, you wondered if there had been any clues to Steve’s relationship with his father. All you remembered was an asshole, Tom Cruise style wanna-be.

He never once let on there might be trouble at home. Hell, he was having a party in the house right now like he didn’t care what his dad thought. 

The feeling of something cold dowsing your body, jolted you back to reality. You stood up, watching as liquid spilled down your head, into your clothes, and on to the concrete below your feet. Your eyes met Tommy’s who was now holding an empty pitcher in his hand. 

“Shit! Y/N, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Not that you’re hard to miss. Maybe it’s because you weren’t invited.”, he snickered. 

Masie stood up, placing herself in front of you. “Have you lost your fucking mind? That was extremely uncalled for!”

You panicked as your eyes looked around the pool area to see people staring at the display that was unfolding. As your body began shutting down, you felt leather being placed around your shoulders. 

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re ok.”

“Speaking of uninvited…”, Carol giggled. 

As Eddie started to turn you around, you both ran into the host of the party. Steve’s eyes scanned your fragile frame and the snarky smiles on his friend’s faces. 

“Everybody out! Out now! You heard me! Parties over!” Carol and Tommy looked around confused but didn’t move as he gently reached for your friend’s arm, tugging her towards you. “You guys, go inside. There are some towels in the washroom by the kitchen. Why are you two still here?! I said out!”

“Are you fucking kidding?”

“No, I’m not. This is MY house. Now get… out…”, Steve growls. 

Tommy wraps his arm around Carol’s shoulder as they leave his backyard. After a quick run through to make sure everyone had left, he found the three of you in his kitchen as Eddie ran a towel through your hair.

“Do you have some clothes, man? Something she can put on.”

“I-I-I can’t go home like this. M-m-my dad will kill me if I come home smelling like alcohol.”, you cried. 

“He will. Her parents are strict as hell especially her mom.” Masie rubs your back comfortingly. “She told them she was having dinner with me tonight so she could come here…for some reason.” She squints her eyes at Eddie. 

If only she knew that he wasn’t the only reason. 

“Why don’t you tell them she’s spending the night with you?”

“IS she?” Your friend glares at them both. “Because I’m not leaving her here alone with you Steve Harrington.”

“Maze, it’s ok.”

“Um, Y/N, it’s not ok! Did you see what his friends just did to you?!”

“YES, I DID! I did… I’m fine, ok? Eddie, will take me home tomorrow.”

Her eyes shift between everyone before focusing on the metalhead. “I will be calling her house at noon tomorrow. If she doesn’t answer, I’m calling Chief Hopper. Do I make myself clear?”

“A bit dramatic but yes.” As soon as she leaves, Steve gestures to Eddie, who takes your hand as you both follow him up the stairs. “I like her. She has a lot of spunk.”

“Masie Collin’s has always been that way.”, the other boy sighs as he opens his bathroom door. 

“Ah. I’ve never met her before.” He focuses on your body as he removes your beer-soaked clothes, passing them to Steve who stumbles backwards into the wall. “Apparently, I got here too late. Do you need to go lay down, Harrington?” 

The man nods slightly as he pushes past you both but instead of turning towards his bedroom, you hear him stomp down the stairs. Eddie turns on the shower, waiting patiently for it to warm up. 

“Okay, Sweetheart. Go ahead and take as long as you need. I’ll go riffle through his drawers and see what I can find for you to wear.”

As he turns to leave, you reach out and grab his arm. “Will…will you stay with me?”

“Do you want me to stay in here with you or do you want me to join you?”

“Will you stand in the shower with me, please?”

Eddie steps forward, brushing your hair behind your ears with his fingers. “I said do you WANT… Talk to me like you want it.”

“Eddie, I want you take a shower with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

He softly smiles as he takes a step back and removes his shirt before sliding down his pants with his boxers. You take his hand as he guides you into the tub and you sigh at the feeling of the hot water hitting your body. 

Eddie chuckles as he reaches for the shampoo in the corner. “Well, you won’t smell like alcohol but let’s hope your parents don’t know what Steve smells like.”

He grins as you laugh, putting product in his hands, and rubbing it into your scalp. Eddie continued to help clean your body, exhaling pleasure filled breaths anytime his lips would randomly land on your skin. 

A tiny squeak left you when his fingers grazed between your legs. “Oh. Sensitive.”, he quips with a mischievous smile. 

“I’m still a little sore.”

Eddie’s eyes widen in joking surprise. “Geez, are our cocks that big?” You bite down on your bottom lip as he slowly inserts his middle finger into your entrance. “Or are you just that tight?”

He gets to his feet, placing his other hand on your lower back, sliding you closer to him. “God, I’ve never felt a pussy this tight before.” You moan as he guides his lips to your own. “Normally, I don’t ask but I know you’ve been through a lot tonight. Can I fuck you?”

“I…I don’t want you to ask. That’s what the word is for right?”

“Yeah, baby. That’s right.”

“Then take me, Eddie. Please…I need you to.”

“Fuck me.”, he groans as his lips crash to yours. 

He removes his fingers, gripping your waist to adjust your body so your back was facing him. You felt his palm dig into your shoulder as his other hand brought your hips into his own, guiding his length into your cunt. 

Eddie wrapped his arms around your tummy as he delivered several hard thrusts that pushed you forward into the cold tile. Your hands shot out to hold yourself steady as he pressed his chest flush to you back.

“Yeah? Fuck, princess, you feel so good. You like the way my cock feels?” You whimpered as your head fell against his shoulder. “Answer me, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick inside of you, stretching you open.”

“I do—mmm—Eddie. Oh my god. I love the way you feel. Please—mmm—please make me cum.”

Eddie pumped his hips faster as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the bathroom. The coil that had quickly began to wind snapped as you moaned his name repeatedly. 

“Good girl. So fucking sexy when you cum. I like the way your body trembles. Fuck. Get-Get down on your knees, baby.”

He pulls out of you and you do as your told, his palm falling to the back of your head as your wrap your lips around his cock. “F-fuck. Don’t fucking move.” Curling his fingers tightly in your hair, he thrusts his hips roughly, forcing himself down your throat. As he begins to sputter, he holds you still and you feel his warm spend fill your mouth. 

“Good girl. Swallow my cum.”

After you do what he asks, he grabs your forearm helping you to your feet as he smiles. “Do you feel clean or do you want me to do another once over?”

“No, I’m ok. I’m really exhausted.”

“I can imagine.”, he chuckles as he turns off the water and steps out of the tub onto the mat. “Here. Go ahead and dry off. I’m going to go find you some clothes.”

When he doesn’t come back after you’re dry, you go looking for him, finding him in Steve’s room; the boy himself completely passed out. 

“Hey, sorry. He actually threw your clothes in the washer so I moved them to the dryer. I’m trying to find something here but kid is too fucking thin. Some of these shirts would barely fit me as a fucking crop top.”

While Eddie spoke, you had tiptoed over to Steve’s bed. Even though he was asleep, he still had a pained expression on his face. You reached out to delicately move some hair to the side and he lightly sighed as he adjusted his head to face the other way. 

The metalhead watched you with fascination as you took off the towel that wrapped around you, tossing it to the floor, and climbed into the bed beside his friend. Your hand traced his back over his shirt and again he sighed but the disgruntled look on his face softened. 

You smiled when you felt Eddie climb in behind you. For some reason, just laying between them like this made you feel comfortable; safe. His arm slide under your pillow and after a while you heard his steady breathing as he fell asleep. 

#############

The feeling of thumb caressing your lips, made your eyes flutter open and were met with the beautiful, amber ones across from you.

“Hey. Are you okay?”, you whisper. Steve nods as he lazily rolls fully onto his side facing you. “By the time I got here you were pretty wasted. Do you remember anything?”

“I remember you being nosey and Carol being a bitch. I remember kicking everyone out and you being sad. Before I fell asleep, I think I heard moaning in my shower but…” He grinned as you blushed. “You smell like me.”

“That’s good. At least I don’t smell like beer anymore.”

“It’s not fair though. You smell like me but not BECAUSE of me.” Steve’s soft palm glided down your back, over your ass to the back of your thigh, lifting it to place your leg over his waist. His hard cock pressed against the outside of your puffy lips making you moan. “I did like waking up to you naked beside me. It took all of my energy not to just take what I wanted while you slept.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He slowly grinded his waist, dragging his length between your folds causing you both to let out a needy whine. 

“Because I like hearing you whimper when I first slide my cock into your tight pussy. Like you can’t take me but you know you need me. Do you need me, honey?”

Your hands reach out to cling to the back of his neck as you place your forehead on his. “Yes, Steve. Please…fuck. I need you so bad.”

“Where, baby? Tell me where you need me.”

“I-I-I…” You stumble over your words, already feeling so overwhelmed by him.

A low, growl rumbles from his chest as his palm comes up to wrap around your throat. “You take too long to answer simple questions.”

“I’m sorry. I just—”

“I don’t care. Tell me…what you need.”

You swear you hear Eddie’s breathing pick up behind you but as you try to turn your head to look Steve grips your jaw forcing your eyes to remain on his. 

“Jesus! And so easily distracted. Did she give you this much trouble last night?”

“No. She told me she needed me and swallowed my cum like a good girl.”, Eddie responds through heavy pants. 

Aggressively, you press your lips to his, relishing in the taste that you missed for almost three days. These men were almost like a drug to you and when Steve pulled away you saw it in his eyes to. 

“Please, Steve. I missed you and how you feel inside me. I need you to make me cum.”

The man gripped your hips as he rolled you onto your back, lifting your other leg to wrap around him. As his mouth traveled down your neck, you were finally able to look at Eddie who was stroking his dick under the blanket as he watched you both. 

Your hand reached out to tug down the sheet making him chuckle. “Do you want to see me play with myself, pretty girl?”

When you nod, Eddie tosses the blanket down to the end of the bed not only exposing himself but Steve between your legs. Your hand reaches out to help him but he promptly stops you, placing your palm against his friend’s back.

“Naw, sweetheart. I had you. It’s his turn.”

With that, the boy slid his cock into your entrance, both men watching your face as it scrunched in pleasure. Steve thrust into you roughly, hitting that spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling back. 

You licked your lips as you watched the metalhead, his moans making your pussy clench. 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, no.”, Steve whined as his head fell into the nook between your neck and shoulder. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as his rhythm faltered and you felt his seed warm your insides.

“It’s…it’s ok. It’s alright, Steve.”, you cooed as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Alcohol isn’t always a man’s best friend.”, Eddie breathily laughs as his own rhythm slows. 

Steve’s head shot up, quickly pulling himself out of you before climbing down your body and placing your legs over his shoulders. You cried out as his mouth wrapped around your clit and he rapidly pushed two fingers into your dripping hole. 

“Oh-oh my god.” You palm floated down, holding tightly to the back of his head. 

Eddie’s shoulder brushed your own as he scooted closer to you, his lips warming your ear. “You did say you needed to cum and if I know Harrington he would never leave a girl he likes unsatisfied.”

Your other hand tried to reach for his cock again but he hastily slapped the back of it before reaching over to slap one of your breasts. “I said no. You’re his right now. Who do you belong to right now?”

“S-Steve.”

Eddie smacked your tit again eliciting a soft moan. “Louder so I know you understand.”

“I belong to Steve! Fuck…” In response to your cries, Steve’s tongue flicked faster against you as his head shook from side to side. “Yes…just like that. I’m gonna…”

You felt the metalheads arm beside you move at a quicker pace as his breathing became more labored. Back arching, your hips grinded against the man’s fingers and tongue as you came. 

Gradually bringing your quivering legs back down to the bed, Steve placed delicate kisses on your nub making you twitch.

Eddie’s body curled inward as he came, his release shooting out and hitting his thigh. 

Usually, they were both quick to clean and take care of you, but you were surprised when Steve laid his head on your lower belly, wrapping his arm around you after bringing your bent knee to lean against his back. Eddie’s head leaned on your shoulder as his hand reached down to intertwine his fingers with your own. You weren’t sure how to react so you just did what felt right choosing to continue to play with Steve’s hair as you pressed your cheek on top of Eddie’s head. 

You don’t know how long you three laid like that but the sound of a phone ringing pushed you out of the pleasurable moment. Steve groaned as he rolled over to answer it. 

“Hello? Harrington house…yeah. Hey, dad.”

“This may take a while. Come on, princess.” Eddie yanked on your hand, guiding you back to the bathroom where he reached for a rag and cleaned you both. “Ok, stay here. I’m going to go grab your clothes.”

He reappeared quickly, beaming as he handed you your outfit. “Now you’ll smell like Harrington and rich people detergent.” You giggled as you thanked him and he disappeared again to throw on his own ensemble. 

As you descended his stairs, your breath caught at how much trash there was everywhere from his party last night. You wondered into his kitchen, finding the trash bags, and began grabbing cups and plates along the way. 

“What are you doing?”

Steve’s voice startled you, your eyes darting towards where he was watching you. “Oh, you scared me. I’m helping you clean. I don’t want your parents to get mad at you.”

“They won’t be home till Wednesday.” His eyes scanned you over, always trying to get a read on you. 

“They leave you by yourself that long?” That genuinely made you sad for him. His folks seemed to be the exact opposite of yours. Where yours at times could be pretty strict and micromanaging, his didn’t seem to care at all. Or didn’t care about their son the way they should judging by the letter you found. 

“Aw. I love it. A girl with a heart.” Eddie grins as he noisily comes down to where you both are. “Unfortunately, babe, I was threatened to have you home by noon. It is currently… a little after eleven and I don’t know how far you live.”

“I’m maybe about 8 miles that way.”, you gesture somewhere behind you. “I, um, I do need you to drop me off a few houses down. I’m sorry. It’s just if they see me hop out of a van…well any car that isn’t Masie’s they will have questions.”

The metalhead nods as he reaches for his jacket and digs for his keys. “Do you mind looping back around, Munson, to drop me back off here?”

“Not a problem, man.”

“Oh Steve, you don’t have to come.”

“Do you not want me to?”, his asks with a forceful tone. 

“Of course, I do… I don’t want to be burden.”

“Interesting.” Eddie muses as Steve grabs his jacket and you three head out the door. “Harrington thinks everyone has a motive. You think you’re a burden. Once we figure out my damage is we’ll win ‘fucked up people’ bingo.”

#################

“Yeah, I’m just right there. Thank you for taking me home.”

“My pleasure.”, Eddie grins. 

“Are you going to be okay?” You both turn to look at Steve who was now leaning forward between the two front seats. “I said I remembered Carol being bitch but Tommy was the one who poured that pitcher all over you, right?”

You nodded before down casting your gaze towards the floor. “It’s not the first time. Freshman year he spilled milk on my dress in the lunch line. In middle school, we all had that field trip to the theater and he pretended to trip, pouring soda down my back. You know, looking back on it, I’m starting to think Tommy Hagan doesn’t know how to drink a beverage.”

They both laugh, making you smile. You’d never seen Steve honestly grin with his teeth before. You reach out with your palm and bring his lips to yours before doing the same with Eddie. 

“I’ll be ok. I’m always okay.” As soon as you jump out of the van, Steve climbs into your seat. You start to head for your house but a thought suddenly hits you. “Oh! Um, I almost forgot. Do either of you have a pen?”

They look around before the metalhead make a tiny aha sound, reaching over to hand you a marker. You giggle as you take it from him, grabbing the boy’s hand and writing something on it. “That’s my line. My parents have their own…for business.” You roll your eyes as you wave and they watch you jog towards your house. 

Eddie smiles as he shows Steve his palm with your phone number scrolled across. 

#############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719

[mastermindmiko]

The person at the opposite end of the table (James Potter)

Pairing: James Potter + reader word count: 2237 warnings: none but lmk if you find any warning: Your first date with James after being close friends for years

If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

a/n: I'm back baby!!!

I have nothing to wear, and I'm not exaggerating. Coming to Hogwarts, you only bring your uniform and a few spares, many many pyjamas, and a few outfits for hogsmeade weekends, nothing more. Today is crucial. It is the day where I'm going out on a date with James, my James, except that today 'my' has a completely different meaning. 

When you go out on dates, you're supposed to wear something elegant and stylish, but still simple and with enough glamour to make the person that will be sitting on the opposite end of the table like you even more. One, I don't have any attire that suits these descriptions, and two, How is it possible to make the person on the opposite end of the table (james) like you even more when they've already seen you at a ball when you look your greatest and during periods, in a foetal position while your cramps are eating you alive? 

The simple and only reasonable answer is that you can't. 

I can spend the whole hour before I have to meet James stressing over my outfit, which albeit is very important, instead of stressing over the actual problem that I have, but that would be very counter intuitive. 

Everyone of the girls is already gone to hogsmeade, so I've got the whole room to myself to panic, cry, scream, jump, pretty much whatever I want, but I don't know what I want. The reason why the date is later than usual is a part of the problem. James set the date at a later time because he knew that I would need some time to myself before going out, some time to process my feelings, try on some outfits, and of course, panic. 

He knows this because he's helped me get ready for many dates before, I wish I could say the same, but James hasn't ever gone out on a date which means that he's the one that should be nervous, but instead I am. 

He knocks on my dorm room door at the worst possible moment, which is every moment when you're nervous. He looks stunning, like he always is, but he's got a red tint on his cheeks and the same cheeky smile he always gives me, but this time, it's hesitant. I shot him a smile and hoped that it wasn't as awkward as I felt it was.  

"Ready to go?" James says, and I nod. I close the dorm door behind me after grabbing my bag. I walk down the stairs with him. If this was any other day, I'd have already wrapped my arms around him, but this isn't any other day. This is a date.

We walk out of the common room, and I feel everyone's eyes on us, I wonder if they can see that my shoulders are tense or that I'm already sweating -

"How are you?" James asks me, and I find him looking at me intently. Has he always looked at me that way? I let out a noise that sounds more like a squeak, and instead of dying of mortification, I face the other way and shoot him a thumbs up. 

Why do I have to be so damn awkward? This is James for merlin's sake.

We reach the last carriage waiting for us that's heading to Hogsmeade, and James hops on. He reaches out an arm for me to grab, but I choose the railing instead, leaving his hand alone in the air. I want to slap myself because I always take his hand, but it means something different. It's not my friend helping me. It's my date being a romantic gentleman. 

He puts his hand down nervously, and he sits down which brings upon a new problem. Remus and Sirius and Peter always sit next to each other and I would sit next to James due to lack of other options, it had become habitual. My question is: the carriage is empty, there are other options, where do I sit? If I sit opposite to him, it might seem like I'm trying to put distance between us, however, if I sit next to him, I might seem pushy, and- 

I don't get another second to panic when the carriage starts moving, and I stumble next to him. I purse my lips, knowing that fate has decided where I'm going to be sitting for this short ride.

Normally, I would lean into James, allowing him to wrap an arm around my shoulder, earning us many teasing comments from the rest of the boys that we've grown accustomed to over the years. 

Normally, we wouldn't go out on a date at all, so I stayed to my side, shoulders tense and tension in the air. I wonder if James feels it, too. The ride is silent, and when we arrive at hogsmeade, James doesn't offer me his hand to get down, just another reminder that today is different. 

"Where do you wanna go?" James asks, and I shrug my shoulders when I infant have very strong opinions about every single place here. James already knows this and takes us to the three broomsticks. My heart stumbles, smiling at the reminder that James knows me so well. 

Our fingers crush together, and my heart jumps to my throat, and I stumble over air. For what seemed like the millionth time that day, I wanted to slit my own throat out of embarrassment. He grasps my waist, making sure I don't fall, creating a warmth over my waist that makes me want to glue his hands there so he can stay this way forever. Unfortunately, my stupid body blushed, and I took a step back.

We walk inside the three broomsticks and James leads me to a table with two seats, instead of five. I sit down opposite to him, and gaze out the window. Couples are walking down the street, holding hands and kissing. I really really want to do both those things with James, I've been waiting to do them forever, but here I am being stupid, on a stupid date, nearly falling when his hands come even close to mine. He sits down next to me, and he looks at me for a few seconds, I flush and look away. 

That apparently was the final straw for James because he goes, "What's up with you today?" 

"What do you mean?" I say after clearing my throat, he laces his fingers together on the table and says, "You realise that that is the first thing you've said the entire time that I've seen you." 

It takes me by surprise because I register that he's right, we've been together for at least twenty minutes and in those twenty minutes not a single word has left my mouth. I fidget with the napkin in front of me and say, "I'm just not a big talker..." 

"Y/n...I'm James. We've been friends for years, why are you acting like you don't know me? Like I don't know that you can't keep your mouth shut for two minutes?" 

I blush, and he continues, "You tripped when I tried to be even near you...I- if you don't want this, you've got to tell me-" 

"I do want this, I want this so much...".

"But?"

"I'm just really, really, really nervous."

He looks at me and replies, "But you've been on dates before."

"Dates with people who aren't you, James." I admit, and I must've grown another head because that's the way that James is looking at me. He says, "What's so scary about me?"

"That you know me." I say, and he tilts his head, I elaborate, "Any other date, I talk about many things, ask them about themselves, if they've got siblings and all that, but I already know you, I don't have any of those questions to fall back on. Any other date, I have to wear something to knock them off their feet, but I can't do that with you because you know me. Any other date, I'm not terrified that this will mess up my entire friend group dynamic and on any other date, I wouldn't be this nervous because I've never liked anyone the way I like you and I need you to like me the same way." 

I sigh when I'm done and James's eyes are twinkling, he pushes her glasses back and he says, "You don't need all these things." 

"We don't need to talk about those stupid things, and you don't need to wear something amazing to knock me off my feet because you've already done that, a while ago actually. You most certainly don't have to worry about messing up our friend group because you cannot even if you tried, Sirius will not allow it." He laughs, and I chuckle along with him. "And you definitely do not need to be nervous because I already like you more than you'd believe because i know you"

I don't need to give it another thought, for once in his life, James is right. I sigh, "You're really good at calming me down." 

He smiles, "You act as though that's a new thing. Remember during your OWLs when you tried going under your bed because you thought that the exams couldn't get you from down there." He laughs at the fond memory while I flush at my stupid idea. 

"What do you actually want to do today?" James asks after a beat. I think for a second, we always go to buy some prank supplies or candies, and while I still want to do that right now, I want to do something else. 

I abandon my chair and sit next to him on the sofa. I sit an appropriate distance away from him, but he grabs me and pulls me flush against him. 

"That's all?" James asks, and I shake my head, "well, that and this..." I trial off as I reach to intertwine our fingers, in some weird way it makes me nervous, but it also feels so right. James squeezes my hand, and I smile. I add,"And maybe some drinks." 

One of the men that Madame Rosmerta hired comes and takes our order, the same thing we always get, butterbeers. 

James' thumb rubs over my own hand, and while this isn't the first time he's done this, today, it has a different meaning. James asks, "Anything else your beautiful heart desires?" 

It might be too early, but I tentatively lean it to capture his lips with mine. It's not our first kiss, and it's definitely much less messy, filled with fewer confessions, and more comfortable. James reciprocates in a millisecond, and his other hand reaches to cup my face. 

We part for a gasp of air before James leans back in for another peck. It's only then that I realise that we're in public, I blush. What makes me blush even more is the way James is looking at me. I ask, "Have you always looked at me that way?" 

"Definitely." He replies. I want to kiss him again when the man that works here slides over our drinks and says, "Two butterbeers for the lovely couple." 

I don't want to correct him, and he leaves, but I wonder if James wanted to because for the first time today, he is incredibly nervous. I reach for his hand and say, "You okay?" 

He nods quickly, and I chuckle nervously. Maybe he doesn't want to be my boyfriend. I ignore the sunken feeling in my chest and sip on my butterbeer. 

"Do you not?" I ask, after a long sip. 

"Do I not what?" James replies, confused, but looking even more nervous if possible. I take a deep breath and look him in the eye, I say, "Do you not want to be a couple?" 

"I-" 

"Because James, I don't know what we're doing then." I reply, I've never wanted anything casual, and certainly never with James, I want to be able to call him my boyfriend, decline another guy's invitation because I've got a boyfriend, not ponder over whether or not I mean to him as much as he means to me. 

"I do." James says, and I look at him unsure. James adds, "I really really want you to be my girlfriend." 

"James, are you sure because -" I start, and he silences me with a kiss. I can imagine him kissing me once at least every hour in the future. He says, "The only reason why I hesitated because I want this to last, I don't want you to reject me cause I don't think I can take a rejection from you" 

I can see his worries. He's never been out on a date, and a date with a close friend is much more nerve wrecking, that's all aside from the fact that James has spent his entire life being turned down by lily and no matter how tough he tries to act, I know that he was genuinely hurt by the years of rejection. 

I try to soothe his worries, "I'm already out on a date with you, James. I'm not going to turn you down...plus, I'm already your girlfriend, I'm not going anywhere." 

He smiles, but he says, "You could get sick of me." 

"If I could've gotten sick of you, I would've during first year, but I'm still here."

[mrworldwideshoulders]

can’t take my eyes off of you || reader x kth

Pairing: reader x KTH Word count: 5.1k Rating: M / R (18+) Genre: one night stand, smut, pinch of fluff Summary: It was supposed to be a girls’ night out. So what are you doing here by yourself, and why has the guy across the bar set his smoldering gaze on you of all people? Inspired by Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars.  Warnings: alcohol consumption, penetrative sex (protected of course), orgasms, big dicc!tae (my god), reader is a blushing mess (and so am I jfc) A/N: this took forever for some reason (even though it was totally supposed to come out sooner T_T) but it’s finally here (and just in time)! first attempt at real smut so this is probably a mess but enjoy anyway >.< as always beta'd and bannered by the amazing april (@onmypillow-onmytable). thx! ly - robyn P.S. I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars (lol), they simply inspire me. 

inspo playlist here

part of the doo-wops, hooligans, and unorthodox magic collection (masterlist)

“Should we take this somewhere more…private?” That deep, velvety-smooth voice again, a whisper that brushes lightly against your ear. 

You awaken with a start, eyes roving around, attempting to make sense of your surroundings. That is definitely not the ceiling of your apartment above you. Everything is unfamiliar: everything from the sheets to the art on the walls to the handsome stranger in bed next to you. He’s asleep, a flop of messy hair sweeping over his delicate, almond-shaped eyes. His arms wrap around you, as if he’s hugging a pillow to his chest – as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. You only have to look at him to remember that it was his voice in your head. Who is he? And how did you get here? Memories of what must have happened last night flood into your brain, though somewhat obscured by the fog that comes with heavy drinking and other bad decisions. 

The bar. You remember getting to the bar. What happened afterwards? You were supposed to meet your best friend Hyejin, but she cancelled on you at the last minute, something about how her younger brother was visiting on surprise leave from the military. "I'm sorry, y/n!" she'd wailed into the phone. "I had no idea Jun was going to pull something like this. I was literally walking out the door when he showed up, and he's only in the city this weekend, so our parents will kill me if I don't take him out to dinner at least once." 

You sigh, only slightly annoyed. "It's fine, Hyejin. He's your brother. I understand." 

"Not that I don't appreciate the thought, but aish, I could just kill him sometimes. Will you be all right by yourself?"

You glance around the bar, which is starting to get noisier as more people fill in. "I'll be fine. I'll probably just have one drink and then go home. Since I’m already here."

Hyejin blows you a raspberry. "Boring! And we were going to get you laid tonight, too. Finally break that dry spell of yours. All because my brother decides he just has to surprise me this weekend."

"Jin!" you hiss, cheeks flaming. You’ve never been the casual hookup-one night stand type, and she knows that. Why is she so hellbent on getting you laid?

"It's true!" she insists. "It’s been months since you’ve gotten any. Y/n, please promise me that you won't just have one drink and go home. Have two drinks. Three, even. Give excitement a chance to unfold. Maybe get yourself something – or someone – special?" You can almost picture her waggling her eyebrows on the other end of the phone. 

You roll your eyes. “I’m hanging up on you.” 

“Okay, okay. Promise you’ll tell me all the gory details at lunch tomorrow?”

“I doubt they will be in any way gory or interesting, but fine. I’m really hanging up on you now, Jin. Have fun with your brother.” 

“Be safe, y/n. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and don’t forget to use protection!” You can hear the mischievous grin in her voice.

You let out a disgusted groan, and hang up without another word, sighing as you stare down into your nearly empty cosmopolitan. Hyejin is right. It's been what, almost six months since you found your boyfriend in your bed with another woman? You still miss the sheets you’d had to throw out after you kicked him out of your apartment. The whole experience was enough to put you off dating permanently – but you can’t deny you have your own needs. You’re a grown woman, after all, and there’s only so much your vibrator can do for you. You finish off the last of your cocktail and order another, fully intending to leave once it’s gone. There will be other nights, and other men, and you’d much rather do this when Hyejin is around to keep you from embarrassing yourself too much. 

The bartender sets a fresh glass down in front of you. “Compliments of the gentleman over there.” He nods toward the end of the bar, where what may very well be the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on is sitting. Dark hair falls in a swoop over one eye, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up to reveal a set of toned forearms. An expensive-looking watch rests on one wrist, completing the full image. He nods at you, winks, and raises his glass of red wine. You raise your own in return. 

First and last time that’ll ever happen, you think to yourself, sipping on your drink. The clamor of the bar builds, and you sit there alone, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You tug at the hemline of your dress: short, spaghetti strapped, uncomfortable, thinking of the sweatpants you’re going to change into immediately upon returning home, the shows from this week that you need to catch up on, and then maybe you’ll fall into bed at a reasonable hour, waking up just early enough to squeeze in a workout and a shower before you have to meet Hyejin for lunch and tell her all of the non-details of your non-adventurous evening. Boring, routine, and comfortable. A glance tells you the man at the end of the bar is still staring at you. You try to ignore him, but his eyes are still laser-focused on you. You shift uncomfortably.

Just who does this guy think he is?

You down the last of your cosmo and vacate your stool, making sure not to wobble in your heels as you march toward him. He watches you approach with what seems to be great interest. "You," you demand, pointing a finger at him. "Why do you keep staring at me?"

He holds your gaze, almost defiantly. He doesn’t even flinch at your accusing finger. "I like looking at pretty things," he says, his mouth quirking up at the corners in a smirk. "Can you blame me?"

You're not sure whether to feel flattered or creeped out, but your mouth speaks for you before you can even think about it. "What, so I'm a thing now?"

"Is that so bad?" he questions. "To be the object of someone's admiration?" His eyes darken as they look you up and down. 

You feel bare. Exposed. Like he's seen something about you that you've never even seen yourself. “What if I don’t want to be an object?” you challenge. ”What then?” 

“Hm. I don’t know,” he says. He seems amused. “I’m sure we could figure something else out.” 

“Who are you, anyway?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. 

"I'm Taehyung." The name rolls off his tongue. "But you can call me Tae. Yours?"

You hesitate. "Buy me another drink and maybe I'll tell you," you say finally. 

Taehyung smiles. Challenge accepted. He motions the bartender over, who looks between both of you questioningly. "You heard her," he says. "Whatever she's having."

You slide onto the barstool next to him, and the bartender sets another cocktail in front of you. "So," you start. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to stare at people?"

"They have. It's never stopped me before, though." Taehyung takes a sip of his wine. “You still haven’t told me your name, by the way.” 

“Y/n,” you say after a momentary pause, debating whether or not you should give him a fake one. “It’s y/n.” 

“Y/n,” he repeats. Your name sounds different when he says it. “A pleasure.” 

Your cheeks warm, though you’re not sure if it’s the liquor or his gaze. "What brings you out by yourself tonight, then?" you ask. “Surely someone like you has plenty of places he could be on a Friday night, instead of sitting by himself in a bar, staring at unsuspecting women.” Handsome. Seemingly well-rounded. Fairly charming. 

"Hmm,” he muses. “I’m an artist of sorts, but I’m feeling a little…blocked at the moment, so I guess you could say I'm looking for inspiration." 

“You’re an artist?” you say. “I never would have expected that.” A closer glance at his hands reveals a few stray flecks of paint around his nails.

“I get that a lot.” He chuckles. “I guess I don’t really look the part, do I?” The corners of his eyes crinkle with the boxy smile that emerges from his laugh. 

“Well,” you say, resting your chin on your palm. “Mr. Artiste. How’s the search for inspiration going?” 

"Between you and me," he says, turning to you, one elbow leaned against the bar, "I'd say it's looking fairly promising. But…” Taehyung looks you straight in the eyes. “I could ask the same of you. Y/n, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing alone at the bar on a night like this?”

“You flatter me.”

“It’s true.” He shrugs. "Anyone can see that you're positively captivating."

Your ex never would have told you anything like that, not in the months before things ended. Your ears tingle. "At least someone thinks so." 

“Why do you say that?” he asks.

“Where do I start?” You stare down into your glass, running a finger around the rim. You shake your head. “Ah, don’t listen to me. I don’t want to bore you with complaining about my asshole ex.” 

“Whoever he is, or was,” says Taehyung, gently turning your head to look at him, “it’s his loss. He has no idea what he’s missing out on.” 

"You just met me five minutes ago," you say. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Well," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching, "I get the feeling I'm about to find out."

Oh my god. Oh. My. God. You take a deep breath in an attempt to keep yourself from panicking. What did you do last night? What are you supposed to do now? Your memories are still blurry, but one thing is for certain: you’ve got to get out of here before he notices you’re gone. Hoping he doesn’t wake up, you extricate yourself gingerly from his grip and edge gently to the side of the bed, holding one of the blankets to your chest while you scan the floor for your clothes. As you’re about to stand up, a hand suddenly locks around your wrist in a firm grasp. You look over your shoulder. Taehyung’s eyes are open now, his gaze fixed on you. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demands. His voice stops you in your tracks. Even half-asleep he sounds like the type of person who’s used to getting what he wants. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you trying to disappear on me?"

“I was just…” You clear your throat. Your cheeks burn. What exactly are you planning on telling him? Leaving? Looking for the bathroom? Going on a coffee run and never coming back? You can’t make yourself finish the sentence. It's as if his gaze has caused your brain to short-circuit.

Taehyung sits up, the bedsheet draped tantalizingly low across his hips, the firm planes of his lower abdomen taking your mind somewhere it shouldn’t. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now.” He dips his head at the blanket covering your breasts. “Especially not after everything you begged me to do to you last night.” He smirks.

Your face flames even hotter. “Um – I…I don’t —” 

“You don’t remember?” he says. “Hm. And what should we do about that?” An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back toward him. “Should I give you a refresher?” he whispers into your ear. “I’m ready whenever.” 

“I can tell,” you say breathlessly. You can feel him pressing against you – every inch of him. 

Taehyung kisses you, just behind your ear, letting his teeth graze the outside of it, planting a trail of blooming kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. “Anything?” His voice is low and dark, filled with lust. “Or should I continue?” 

“It’s coming back to me,” you exhale. Don’t stop. Please.

The brick wall outside scrapes against your shoulder blades, the cold night air making you shiver slightly. His lips are on yours, on your neck, trailing down across your bare collarbone, each one burning more than the next until you’re completely aflame. The front of his shirt is clenched in your fists, the only thing keeping you from sliding down to the pavement. But he pulls away, and you let out a frustrated huff. A crowd of people leaving the bar walks past, chattering loudly, and Taehyung’s hand is suddenly on the wall next to your head, his arm out to shield you from anyone’s view. He’s biting his lower lip, dark eyes glinting. “You have no idea how much I want to just take you right here, right up against this wall.”

“So do it then,” you breathe. "Take me. Fuck me right here in this alley.” You don’t know what you’re saying. All you know is that you want his hands back on you, right now, so you guide them toward your waist. 

“So eager.” He smiles. “But not here. I want to be the only one who hears you scream tonight.” Taehyung’s voice lowers to a whisper as he leans in. “Should we take this somewhere more…private?” He tilts your chin up to look him in the eye. “Last chance to say no.” 

“Is there a reason I should?” You look up at him through your lashes. 

“Not in my opinion.” Taehyung smirks. “So what’s it going to be?”

You're barely inside the door of his apartment before his hands are on you again, fumbling for the zipper of your dress, eventually giving up and yanking the whole thing over your head. "Hey, be careful," you giggle between kisses, working at unbuttoning his shirt. "That dress was expensive."

"I'll buy you a new one," he says, flinging it away so you don't see where it lands, nimble fingers moving to unhook your bra, an uncomfortable strapless push-up you only ever wear to make your tits look good. “I’ll buy you ten new ones." He tosses the bra over his shoulder as well. "God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He hoists you up, palming your ass with those massive hands of his, letting your legs wrap around his waist. You buck against him, needing the friction to lessen the ache between your legs. “Fuck, y/n,” he growls. “I can’t control myself around you.” 

“I don’t care,” you say, gasping as he presses you up against the wall. “I don’t fucking care.” You’re moving again, down a hall to another room. The bedroom. 

Taehyung tosses you down roughly on the bed. He looms over you, his eyes nearly black with desire. “Stunning,” he says. “Absolutely stunning. Now that I’ve got you all to myself…I might never let you go. I’m going to ruin you, y/n.” He snaps the waistband of your underwear. “Are you all right with that?” 

“Why are you still talking?” You pull him down toward you and kiss him, pushing the unbuttoned shirt all the way off his shoulders. “Go ahead and do it already. Ruin me. I’m all yours.” 

"That's right," he says, dropping another kiss on your lips. "You're all mine, baby. Just for me.” His lips trail down, a waterfall of kisses running through the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, stopping just above your hips, where he deftly slides off your underwear and tosses them aside. “Are you ready?”

You nod wordlessly. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” He’s gorgeous, standing there in the moonlight. He leans over you, reaching for something in the bedside table, enveloping you in his scent: sandalwood and bergamot, hints of pine. You hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper. 

“Wait.” You stop him before he can put it on. “Let me. Please, Tae. I want to.”

“You want to touch me?” Taehyung smirks. “Even better.” He hands you the unwrapped condom. “I’ll let you do the honors.” 

You draw in a breath and roll the condom up his cock: thick, heavy, already wet with precum. It’s bigger than you imagined, especially in your hands – in fact, massive might be a better word for it.

He groans as you move slowly up the shaft. “Y/n…” 

“What?” you tease. “Something wrong?”

“It’s not every day I have your pretty little hands wrapped around my cock.” He grins. “I’m just enjoying the ride.” 

"Oh, these hands?" you ask innocently, running a finger down his length.

"Fuck," he exhales. He leans down, bringing his face inches away from yours. “You trying to kill me?” God, this man knows how to use his mouth. And his fingers. He traces one long index finger down your drenched center, teasing at your entrance. “So wet for me already,” Taehyung marvels. “It won’t be long now.” 

“Tae…” you whine, biting your lower lip.

“Say please.” 

You inhale sharply. “Please.” 

“Good girl.” He slips another finger inside you, circling your clit. It’s so swollen and sensitive he barely has to touch it before you let out a soft moan. "Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what you need." 

"I need you," you gasp. "Need you inside me. Right now."

Taehyung gently touches your face. “Not yet, baby,” he coaxes. “Wait for me. Just a little while longer.” He settles himself between your legs, the tip of his cock pressing against your core. You close your eyes, sucking in your bottom lip, gasping slightly as he slips inside, feeling yourself stretching to accommodate him, shifting your pelvis to take on even more. You feel full. Warm. Good. It feels good. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. He’s huge. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Can I move?” 

You nod earnestly. “Move, Tae. For the love of god, fucking move.” 

He rocks into you, slowly at first, then faster. “God, you feel amazing. How is it possible that you’re so amazing?” 

“Show me,” you demand. “Show me how good I make you feel.” 

“Whatever you want, baby. I’ll give it to you.”

“Harder,” you pant. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t see straight. I want to see stars. Constellations. The whole damn solar system.”

“Happy to oblige.” Taehyung smiles. His thrusts intensify, leaving you teetering on the edge, fists clenching the sheets underneath you. You cry out, the pressure of your impending orgasm nearly too much to bear. He touches your cheek. “Wait for me,” he commands. “Almost there. Almost.” 

“I can’t,” you whimper. “I’m going to –” 

He silences you by touching a finger to your lips. “Shh,” he whispers.

That moment seems to last forever, building, building – until finally, the dam bursts. Pure, white hot adrenaline, the passion, the desire, all setting off fireworks behind your eyes. Your nails dig into his back as you hang on, seemingly for dear life. He comes undone with a groan, spilling himself inside of you as the force of your climax hits you like a tidal wave. 

He collapses onto the mattress, panting slightly, and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead. “Fuck. That was…”

“Really something,” you finish. Your heart is still racing. 

“You could say that.” Taehyung chuckles. 

“I haven’t come that hard since…ever.” 

“Never?” He turns his head to look at you, one eyebrow raised. 

You think back. “Maybe once. But it’s been a really long time.” 

“So definitely better than your ex?” he teases. “I’ll take it.” 

“That’s it? You’re easily satisfied.” 

His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you toward him. “No. I’m not. Not usually. So you’d better be careful or…”

“Or what?” 

Taehyung smiles, eyes closed, almost half asleep already. “Hmm.” He hums gently. “I just might fall in love with you.” 

“So,” he says, his low voice bringing you back to the present. “Where were you running off to in such a hurry just now?” 

“Uh…” What was it you were about to do? You were looking for something. Clothes. You were looking for your clothes. “My dress. I need my dress.”

“Oh, that,” Taehyung says dismissively. “I think we left it somewhere near the kitchen. Along with, well…” He peers around at your face, grinning. “Everything else.” He’s still pressed up against you. 

Your senses come rushing back, and you pull away. “Look,” you babble. “I don’t normally do this kind of thing, and last night was…great, but —”

“I’d like to think it was more than just great,” he shrugs. “Phenomenal. Earth-shattering. Damn near amazing. But call it what you like.” 

“I’ve really got to go,” you blurt. “I have an…engagement.” Lunch. With Hyejin. Right. What time is it, anyway? 

“Ah.” If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it. “Of course. Don’t let me stop you.” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow wolfishly. “Unless you’d like me to.”  

"Uh, no. That’s all right." How does he do that? How does he know how to fluster you with a single look? You keep the blanket wrapped around you while you pad into the kitchen, where you find your dress in a mound on the floor. Wrinkled. Of course. You sigh and pick it up. The daylight allows you a better look at the rest of his apartment, one that you didn't get the night before. The front room is high-ceilinged, exposed brick and tall windows overlooking the street below. Your eyes linger on the canvases leaned up against one wall, the easel with the cloth-covered painting on top of it. Or you would assume there's a painting under there; you can't exactly see it, but it would only make sense. "So he is actually an artist," you say to yourself. 

"Of course I am," he says, appearing behind you out of nowhere. "Not exactly the kind of thing I’d lie about." 

You whip around to find him standing there, clad only in boxers and an amused expression. "I don't know. You could have just told me that to make yourself seem more interesting. You wouldn't be the first guy to do it. Women love a man with depth."

"So did it work, then?" He presses his lips together, obviously trying to hide a smile. "Do you think I'm interesting?" 

"Hm." You smile and look down. "Not sure yet. I'll let you know." 

"Please. By all means."

You seem to remember there was something else you were supposed to be doing. "Uh…bathroom?"

"Down there." He points you back in the direction of the bedroom. 

"Thanks." You gather up your things into a pile and shut the door after you, letting out a breath as you lean against it. You dress quickly and fix your hair as much as you can with the comb you keep in your purse, splash some water on your flushed cheeks, then head back into the kitchen. He’s there at the island, scribbling something on a piece of paper. “What’s that?” you say as you approach, still fiddling with the back zipper on your dress that seems to have jammed itself on its way off last night. 

“My number. I realized I didn’t give it to you last night.” He smirks, pushing it toward you. “Just in case you need me.” 

God, he's cocky. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little into it. “Who says I'll need you?” That’s what you say – but you tuck it into your bag anyway. 

“If you change your mind. Here, let me.” Taehyung gets the zipper unstuck and finishes zipping up the back of your dress. He presses a final kiss lightly against the shell of your ear. “You should go. You have your engagement, don’t you? Wouldn’t want you to be late.” 

"Are you rushing me out?" you say, glancing over your shoulder.

"Oh, you can stay as long as you like," he says. “Just trying to be considerate of your time.” 

"I appreciate that." Suddenly you don't want to go. You’d rather stay here, in bed, in his arms. But that’s not what that is. You don’t know what this is, but you know it’s not how this kind of thing works. You pick up your shoes and walk toward the door. He follows closely behind you. You hesitate, turning back toward him. “I guess this is it, then?” you say. 

“I suppose it is,” he says. 

“Well…thanks,” you say, unsure what to say next. “I had a good time.” You recall the stiff, sore feeling between your legs and sigh internally. You’re going to be feeling this for the next day or two – but regret doesn’t even begin to cross your mind. 

“Until the next one?” He’s still smirking. 

Next time? “Who says there’s going to be a next time?” You cross your arms and look up at him. 

“Just wishful thinking. I would like to see you again, but we can discuss that when the time comes.” He smiles down at you. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend, y/n.” 

Wishful thinking indeed.

You hurry home with just enough time to take a quick shower before you have to go and meet Hyejin for lunch. Your mind wanders to Taehyung several times while you’re waiting at the restaurant: the way his hair fell across his eyes, that squinting, boxy smile of his, his hands, exploring every inch of your body. The way it felt when he—

“Y/n? Y/n, hello? Are you there?” Hyejin is looking at you pointedly. 

You jump. “Yeah. Sorry. My brain stopped working for a minute. Were you saying something?” 

“What happened last night?" Her eyes narrow. "Please tell me you didn’t just have two drinks and go home. Did something happen?” Hyejin raises an eyebrow. 

You consider telling her about Taehyung, but you’re not sure if you could do him justice. “Nothing happened, Jin. And that’s exactly what I did. Two drinks, went home, fell asleep watching Bridgerton.” You redirect your focus to your lunch, the smell of which makes you a touch nauseous.

She crosses her arms and stares you down. “I don’t believe you. You definitely had more than two drinks. You’ve got that look in your eyes that you get when you’re hungover. I’d know it anywhere.” She squints at your right shoulder, right in the crook of your neck and gasps. “Y/n! Is that a hickey?” 

You nearly choke on your water. Shit. How could you have not noticed that? You tug at the neck of your sweater. “Not so loud! I don’t need the entire restaurant knowing I have a hickey! Which I don’t. Because it’s not a hickey. It’s, um—”

“Oh my god, it is! It totally is. Y/n! You got some, didn’t you?” 

“No comment.” Your face burns red hot. 

“Okay, well, based on the fact that you don’t want to tell me, your best friend, about it, it was probably either really good or really bad. And judging by the way you’re blushing…” She leans her chin on one fist. “I’m going to guess that it was really good.” 

"Stop it. You're the worst. The absolute worst." There might as well be steam coming off your face. You lower your voice. "Yes. It was really good. He was hot, thorough, and not clingy at all. The consummate hookup. Are you happy now?" 

"Overjoyed." Hyejin looks far too pleased with herself. "Does this guy have a name?”

“Taehyung.”

“Taehyung,” she repeats. “So. Are you going to see him again?"

You think about his number written on the scrap of paper currently sitting in the change pocket of your purse. In case you need me. "I don't know. Probably not. I mean, that's how one-night stands work, isn't it? Kinda defeats the purpose of the whole ‘one-night’ thing if you see them more than once." 

Hyejin shrugs. "They can. There's no rule that says they have to. You said he's hot. Would you want to see him again?" 

"Well…maybe?” You think about it. The man hasn’t left your mind since you left his apartment. “If the opportunity presented itself? He did give me his number. And he did say he wanted to see me again."

She sighs. "Y/n, I love you. But you might be the dumbest person in the world when it comes to this kind of thing."

"What?" you demand. "What is that supposed to mean? He was probably just being flirty. I doubt he really wants to see me again." 

"Of course he was being flirty. He wants to see you again. He made it a point to give you his number, y/n. Opportunity is literally pounding on your door. Are you just going to let the best sex of your life slip past you when you could seize the day and do something you’ve never done before?” Hyejin leans in. “Look. I know what you’re going to say. You’re not looking for anything serious right now, and I totally get it after what that piece of shit did to you. But why not have a good old-fashioned no strings attached fling? You deserve it. You’re practically a saint for putting up with that asshole for so long. And if this guy isn’t on the same page, then you cut your losses and move on. Simple as that.” 

“Simple as that, huh?” You cross your arms and stare pensively at the table. 

“Honestly.” She shrugs. “If you don’t text him, I will.” 

“Jin, you’re engaged.” 

“Yeah, but I’m not dead, am I?”

You: Hi. It's y/n. You: From last weekend? You: This is Taehyung, right? Taehyung: It is. Taehyung: I was wondering when I’d hear from you. You: And I was wondering when I could see you again. Taehyung: That depends. You: On what? Taehyung: How bad you want to see me.

You rap three times and wait, the silence in the hallway almost unbearable. For a moment you think you’ve made a mistake coming back over here, but then the door swings open, and there he is. Barefooted, in shorts and a baggy, paint-stained t-shirt. A far cry from the way he looked when you met him last weekend, but at this moment you don’t think you’ve ever found anyone more attractive.

He looks you up and down, a satisfied smirk creeping across his mouth. “So you came.”

“Yeah. I did.” Your heart is pounding. “This is probably a bad idea.”

“Uh-huh.” Taehyung nods, leaning against the frame of his front door. His crossed arms draw attention to his rolled-up sleeves, accentuating his biceps. 

“A really bad idea.” Your nails are digging into the palms of your hands. 

“So you’ve established.” He tilts his head to one side. “Still time to leave. Although I won’t say I’m willing to forget it ever happened.” 

You shake your head. You’ve already spent way too much time thinking about this. “No. I want this.” 

“Good, because I do too.” He holds out a hand. “Are you going to come in, then?” 

You put your hand in his, and he immediately tugs you toward him, until you’re mere inches away from each other. His touch is magnetic. Like perfect polar opposites. “Yeah,” you breathe, inhaling his scent. Sandalwood, bergamot, and pine. “I’m coming in.” 

©2022 by @mrworldwideshoulders​

[citygirlcharlotte]

The Sister Halstead (Part 13)

Hank Voight x Reader

Masterlist

“You sure?” Henry asked me as we were getting ready for bed that night. I was already on my laptop looking at baby clothes. 

“This just feels like the right time. Plus when am I ever going to have everyone together like this?” I mused. 

He joined me in bed, maneuvering me around so he could see my screen. 

“Jay and your dad are going to kill me.” He stated.

“You can take them.” I laughed as I kissed his cheek. 

We stayed up most of the night brainstorming the perfect reveal and I was so excited to share my little bundle of joy with my family. I woke up Henry the next morning with excited giggles, placing kisses all along his face and neck. 

“Wake up!” I whined. 

He opened a singular eye mockingly before closing it again and pulling me into his chest.

“I love you.” He whispered. 

“I love you more than anything.” 

“More than our little love bug?” He joked, hand coming to stroke our babies home. 

“Considering you gave me them, yes.” I smiled, placing a soft kiss to his jaw. 

I caught the bottom of his jaw, pulling him into a sweet kiss. Henry’s hand made his way to my thigh to throw it over his hip. Obviously I had no choice but to ground my pelvis on his. 

“Horny this early in the morning?” He joked.

“I have the hottest baby daddy, what am I supposed to do?” I sighed, pushing his boxers down and sliding his tip between my folds. 

“Say please.” 

“Please.” He moaned, bucking into my hand. 

“Good boy.” I moaned, sliding down his length. 

We moved at a languid pace, kisses and moans filling the room. 

“Right there.” I cried. The feeling of him hitting my cervix was not something I would ever get used to. 

“Fuck baby.” He whined, slamming my hips back onto his length. 

“Please!” I cried. Now I was the one whining for a release. He took mercy on me and moved his thumb to caress my clit. 

In a matter of moments, I was falling over the edge and collapsing on Henry’s chest. He continued to chase his high and thrust into my sopping heat before letting out a guttural moan and filling me up. 

“God damn it I love doing that.” He admitted.

“I know, that’s how I got pregnant.” I laughed, falling to the side and laying my head on his chest. 

After what felt like hours of laying together, it was time to get this plan in action. As I was getting ready for some errands, Hank sat on a stool, talking to my little bump. 

“Today’s the day bub, we’re going to tell your grandparents and your uncles about you.” He murmured, shoving his face into my stomach. 

“I wish we could tell your brother. I hope he’s up there with you in heaven taking care of you until mama and I get to meet you.” He confessed. 

I felt myself tearing up as I dropped my curler and ran my fingers through his hair. 

“I’m sure Justin is watching over our baby. How about you tell Erin next if you want to?” I proposed. 

He smiled sadly up at me before returning to his secret conversation. 

“I hope it’s a girl.” I mused. 

“Me too.” 

The afternoon rolled around with us enjoying a beautiful backyard picnic. We had a white tent with the most aesthetic array of every food I could think of. I had 4 little boxes hidden to the side for the big reveal. 

“Do you guys really have to go back?” I pouted to my parents. 

Having them here for the long weekend made me realize how much I missed being around them all the time. Especially with the baby coming, I wanted them to stay in Chicago.

“We’ll be back all the time okay? Your dad just bought another apartment down the block from yours, so I’m sure we’ll be here more often.” My mom reassured me. 

“Speaking of apartments, here are your keys boys.” My dad smiled, handing off keychains to Will and Jay. 

“We can’t thank you enough Mr. Lahey.” Will said, expressing his gratitude.

“It is not a problem and please call me Charles. You two are family now and I feel better that Charlie isn’t living alone.” Dad explained. 

“Hardly alone when Hank’s always there.” Jay mumbled, taking a drink from his glass. 

“Heard that.” Henry replied. 

“Nonetheless, thank you, Charles.” Jay smiled, giving my dad a firm handshake. 

After indulging in way too much desert, it was time for the main event. 

“I have a surprise.” I announced excitingly, moving to grab the little boxes with everyone names on them. 

“You guys have to open it at the same time okay?” I instructed. 

With a collective nod, everyone took a hold of the ribbon securing the box. 

“On three! One, two.. three!” I yelled. 

They all yanked their ribbons free and reached into the box for their gift. My mom opened her box to a onesie saying “grandmas favorite”, my dad got a coffee mug saying “promoted to grandpa”, Jay got a bottle of scotch that says “pairs well with becoming an uncle” and Will got a candle that says “smells like you’re gonna be an uncle”. 

At first, no one reacted. They all just stared at their gift in silence. My mom was the first to lift her head with tears in her eyes. 

“A grandma?” She cried, clutching the onesie to her chest. My dad was quick to follow her with a shocked expression. 

“You’re pregnant?” He gasped. 

I nodded excitedly as tears came down my face. 

“Oh baby!” Will shouted, smelling his candle before reaching over for a hug. 

My mom joined us in the hug as my dad and Jay looked at each other before looking at Henry. 

“Say something.” I laughed, staring at the men in shock. 

“Congratulations Honey.” My dad smiled, hugging me as well. 

Jay continued to sit there with a dumbfounded look on his face. 

“You got my sister pregnant?” He asked, flabbergasted. Before anyone could really gauge a reaction, he got up and punched Henry in the face. Again. 

“Seriously Jay? This is the second time. I’m still your boss.” He groaned. My dad helped him off the ground with a laugh. 

“No more hitting, I need my grandchild to grow up with a father in one piece.” My dad joked. 

Jay finally came over and brought me into a hug. 

“I’ll kill him if he ever hurts you.” He whispered, holding onto my tightly. 

“Thank you.” I cried, soaking his shirt. 

I was finally able to make my way back to Henry and inspect his face. 

“He was holding back. The first one was worse.” I joked. 

“I bought an ice pack for a reason.” He admitted, pulling out a cold one from the cooler.

“I’m so excited to be having a baby with you.” I cooed at him. 

“I’m excited but terrified. I can’t believe I get to be a dad again.” He admitted. 

That made my mom sob and pulled him into a hug. 

“Welcome to the family Henry.” 

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[tearfallpixie]

Make Mama Happy - Chapter 6

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“Mama Mauro! Thank you so much for inviting me.” Heather said, hugging Rosa when we walked in. Rosa hugged me next and pulled us both inside.

“Come in. Its so cold out there. I already have hot water on for coffee or hot chocolate.” She told us. We all went into the kitchen and got our drinks before going to the living room and sitting down. “How are you handling being without our Vincenzo dear? This is your first tour separated from him, right?”

“It is. I miss him every day but having Heather with me helps. Especially since she’s missing Ricky.” I murmured, hoping my voice sounded convincing.

“I’m sure calling him every day helps. He tells me how he misses you too.” I raised my eyebrows in shock.

“Uhm, yeah. It definitely helps. I’m ready for him to be home at the end of the week.” The words felt sour in my mouth, but I forced a smile and pretended that I was excited. How could I keep this up if every time we talked, we devolved into bickering about something stupid?

“I’m sure you are. Lets get this place decorated so when he comes home on Thursday he can be surprised.” She led us to the attic where we pulled down the boxes and took them to the living room. “Lets go ahead and pull down the Christmas tree but we wont put it up until Friday. Vinny has an issue with it being up before Thanksgiving.”

“Oooh. I like him even more now. I respect all the holidays and I hate seeing Christmas stuff overlapping.” I giggled. I pulled tinsel out of one of the boxes and wrapped it around the banister of the stairs, while Heather put a wreath up on the front door.

“What about you dear? Are you missing Rick?”

“Of course. Since they are ending their tour right before the holiday, I am flying to Washington Tuesday and meeting him there.” Heather told her.

“Well tell him we say hello and to have a wonderful holiday.”

“Will do Mama Mauro.” Next we decorated the fireplace with pumpkins and candles and while doing that Vinny called his mom.

“Hello Vincenzo! Nichole and Heather are here.” She exclaimed when she answered.

“Hello Vinny. I can’t wait until you are home.” I forced out.

“I can’t either baby. I could really use a hug right now. Hello Heather.” There was some shuffling in the background and an ‘oof’.

“Heather? Hi!” Ricky spoke. “I cant wait to see you Wednesday.”

“Hi Ricky, I miss you.” She giggled, making me roll my eyes. It was one thing for me to pretend to like Vinny but hearing her genuine sickening puppy love was worse.

“Hello Ricky.” I called and there was a pause.

“Hi Chole. How are you?” He said in a friendly tone.

“Oh just so wonderful. I miss you so much.” I fake sobbed.

“Haha. I miss you too brat.” There was an underlying hint of amusement in his voice and it made me smile. “Hey, sorry for stealing your girl for the holidays.”

“I guess I can let you have her for the weekend. But don’t expect me to be nice about it again.” The silence that followed that was awkward and I cocked my head.

“Baby, did you not tell her?” Rick asked.

“Tell me what?” My eyes flicked from the phone to Heather and she wore a guilty expression.

“Well, we decided that this year I would stay up there with him until the new year.” She said cautiously.

“That’s a month and a half.” I sputtered. “We always spend Christmas together!”

“I know. He’s parents asked though. Its just this year. Next year will be just us. I promise.” I shook my head in frustration.

“No, no! Its supposed to be us.”

“I thought with you seeing Vinny, that this year you would spend it with his family.” She explained, cautiously flicking her eyes at Rosa. I was about to pop off but bit my tongue.

“They don’t know me. It would be weird. I need some fresh air.” I muttered. I grabbed my jacket and dashed out the front door before they could say anything else. I pulled my hood up and walked down the street, enjoying the way the cool air burned my lungs. My phone rang and I glanced at it to see Vinny calling me but I really didn’t want to talk to him right now, so I hung up and turned my phone off.

~~~~

MM: I will see you at our place at 10am dear.

I groaned as Rosa texted me Wednesday morning. She made it clear that she would not take no for an answer even though I had tried to get out of thanksgiving dinner. I really didn’t want to talk to Vinny at the moment even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. He had been trying to contact me all weekend and I had been avoiding his calls.

N: I will be there. I promise.

I dreaded driving through the snow that had piled up over the last few days but Mama Mauro had spoken so I wasn’t about to piss her off. I put on a cute red velvet dress and grabbed my peacoat before going out to my car and driving to the house.

“I’m here.” I called when I entered the house. I heard shuffling in the kitchen and Rosa popped her head out.

“Oh perfect timing! Come in here and help me with these cookies, wont you?” I hung my coat up and joined her to see several different cookies laid out on the counter. There were peanut butter cookies, snickerdoodle, chocolate chip and plain cookies to decorate with frosting. “You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“No ma’am.” She beamed and handed me a tray of different color frosting tubes to decorate with. We spent the morning decorating and chatting about Vinny getting home in a few hours making the time fly by. I had never decorated cookies before so I was absolute trash at it but I found myself laughing and enjoying the holidays more than I could ever imagine.

“Why don’t you visit your family for the holidays dear? You seemed very upset when Heather said she wouldn’t be around.” Rosa asked.

“My family and I don’t talk so she’s been my only family for the last 8 years. We always spend the holidays together so it just kind of hurt. I know I should let her go to Ricks place since they are getting serious and all but I’m just not ready to be alone.” I shrugged, putting a crappy smile on the pumpkin I was drawing.

“Well you are always welcome here.” I smiled but internally my heart was screaming. I was trying so hard to get back at Vinny for being an asshole to me that I was about to break his mothers heart. The door opening tore me from my thoughts and I set down the frosting I was currently using, brushing my hands off on a towel before heading to the front room. What I saw when I got there was a disheveled drummer who looked way too exhausted and was lugged down by three bags. The moment he saw me, they dropped to the floor.

“Vinny!” I exclaimed, running at him and throwing myself into his arms. I wrapped mine around his neck and his squeezed my waist, lifting me into the air. I knew his mom had followed me, so this was all for show

“I’ve missed you so much baby.” He said. I felt the floor returning to my feet and he pulled back a little before leaning the short distance down to press his lips against mine. I kissed back as best I could but forced it to end quickly.

“Vin, your mum.” I mumbled, trying to play it off. He let go of me and went over to Rosa, pulling her into a hug.

“Sorry mama.” He chuckled. “I missed you too.”

“It’s ok dear. I understand that you missed her more.” His mom laughed. “Why don’t you go up stairs and shower and then come back down to help us finish the cookies.” With a nod and a kiss to my cheek the drummer disappeared up the stairs.

[iguessitsjustme]

Love Sea Ep 4 & 5 Thoughts

Okay. As I’m writing this, I know I’ve been gone from tumblr for at least a week (I was back(ish) a day earlier than expected. Weeeeee) Possibly more. So it’s been a minute since at least episode 4 aired. So I’m lumping it in with my episode 5 watch next week. And if y’all think just because I’m not on tumblr, I’m not liveblogging…well of course I am. My wrist does hurt though so I’m not sure how talkative I’ll be. I am also having a bad brain day and I have had a whole weekend full of absolute shit. And my week is going to be…tiring. I’ll be on a plane, a road trip in a car, and then a train. All in the span of like…4-5 days. Don’t ask. Anyway that will be in the past by the time I post this. Time to watch. As always, liveblog under the cut and will likely have criticism. You’ve been warned before you click:

“Every meeting ends with a farewell” please tell me they aren’t going to try to be deep right now. They have not done nearly enough to build up Rak’s side of feelings for me to believe he’s feeling introspective at leaving this place. He pretty much hated it here for the most part. I could maybe understand if it was Mut since he just apparently immediately fell in love because he believes in love. And believing in love means automatically falling in love with the standoffish guest that you’ve been fucking.

Okay the heart of my issue with Rak and Mut can be perfectly encapsulated in this scene where Rak learns that Mut has a pickup truck. “And did I ever tell you I didn’t have a pickup?” Sir, what you feel for Rak is not love. Because if you actually loved him and cared for him, you would have heard his complaints about the motorcycle and the cargo tricycle and used the pickup truck for him instead. He literally told you the motorcycle hurt him to ride and still you did nothing. Because it means more for you to have this weird sense of superiority over Rak than it does to make sure he’s comfortable and not in literal pain. I had a more caring relationship with my former coworker than this. Because I did something where I thought I was in the right but it was a petty argument and honestly, I could see how much she was hurting from it. So I apologized and I let her know that she was more important to me than being right. And that was for a COWORKER (now friend yay). Mut can’t even manage to do that with someone he supposedly likes romantically.

Why does Rak not get to be upset about this? Mut just immediately shuts it down by saying “let’s not end on a bad note.” Sir, you caused the bad note and made no apologies. Instead you laughed at Rak for daring to want some comfort while having no control over his own life while there. Like seriously. If you caused the pain, you don’t get to dictate when the hurt is done.

And the flashbacks again. Will we get some every damn episode? We’re 4 for 4 now.

Rak baby boy this doesn’t make any sense. Does Mut have a magic dick? I do not understand.

What.

Noisy sidewalk people go AWAY

So Mook is paranoid for her valid concerns about STDs? He should get tested. So should Rak. If memory serves, both sleep around. Mut with guests and Rak when he needs to write smut. And Rak has slept with Mut already. I know they used a condom each time, but he should still get tested too. Seriously. Rak’s wealth and fame won’t protect him from STDs.

Noisy neighbor go AWAY

Man I wish this show would just let Rak be aro without making it about trauma and him just being scared to love.

Am I supposed to care about this random woman at the end? Cause I don’t.

And I feel meh about this episode as well. See you in literally the bullet below for episode 5 but it will be a week for me. Time is weird man. Time is weird.

Time IS weird past Rae. And you were right, it was a tiring week. I’m finally caught up on shows though..sort of. I still might start another show tonight. Or maybe listen to an audiobook. I think I’m gonna return my library book and see if they have it on audiobook. If I thought my wrist hurt last week, that’s nothing compared to today. Mistakes were made on my trip. One was unavoidable and the other was…well I did an exercise and that was a mistake.

Anyway now for episode 5.

Rak should wear his glasses all the time. That is all (speaking of glasses…where did I put mine…)

I had issues with that whole scene but honestly I’m too tired to type them all out. Mut is not as smart as he thinks he is and that’s all I have to say.

Rak, sweetie, the waiter just stood there. You know that. You were there.

I’ve had guys say this to me after I told them I don’t like them. You will never guess the outcome of that.

Absolutely the fuck not. There is no way that any person with a uterus wrote this line. Because what the fuck. Why is it that Mook isn’t allowed to be upset with being sent all over yonder on an errand for someone who is NOT her employer and this is the response to her being upset? Believe it or not, people that have periods can be angry because of the actions of other people and not just because of their period. Yes, PMS is a thing, but it is not the only reason for anger. Who wrote this line? I just want to talk.

Save Mook. Save her.

I hate how Vie perpetuates the horrible stereotypes of women in order to manipulate Mook. It’s awful.

So let me get this straight. Mut…forced Rak to go out to eat with him (even though they could have gotten delivery) and then when they’re shopping and Rak has explicitly stated that he wants to leave, it is a “date” because Mut is interested in Rak and he says so. But Rak has stated he does not like Mut. So the whole thing doesn’t work because Rak DOESN’T WANT TO BE THERE. It’s not a date if they both don’t agree it’s a date. And to Mut, you can’t use Rak’s novels against him. Those are characters in fiction. They don’t represent Rak’s real feelings. I hate Mut. Have I mentioned that? I mean I’m not Rak’s biggest fan either but Mut is just…dumb. Rak should be able to argue against this it’s so dumb.

Most novels don’t have sound?? I mean there are audiobooks but the sound in those is typically just words. Unless it’s different in Thailand? I don’t know. Also maybe this is a translation thing? (This is me after the end of the episode and I get it. He was talking about what the author says the sound effect would be. I admit it, I was dumb here. I don't think it came across quite right in the translation but this is fully on me for being dumb. But also the sound mixing at the end? Do NOT get me started. It was bad and I wanted to die.)

If someone put all of my alcohol and snacks back while I was shopping AND paying for it…I would murder them on the spot. I beg your finest pardon Mut, but let Rak have snacks? The alcohol I’m less pressed about because he does have alcohol at home but the snacks? THE SNACKS? I hope Mut rots in hell. This is The Ultimate Sin to me. *guards my snacks with my life*

If Rak’s skin still looks that good on a diet of alcohol and snacks, then I will eat my hat. Also Mut mind yo business. You ain’t his doctor. C’mere Rak. I’ll give you some snacks.

Save Mook. Save her.

This family drama is so poorly written. I feel bad for the actors who are killing it in this scene. They deserve a better script.

I did not hate the end of that episode. Or the scene in the dressing room. Mut's response to the drama was...he still has some work to do on boundaries but it wasn't bad. He did eventually respect the boundaries and they had some good communication in that dressing room. I don’t like that he had to be screamed at before he left Rak alone, but he didn’t walk to Rak which I was so scared he was gonna do and the show was gonna paint it as romantic.

The preview for next week has me concerned though. I probably won’t like episode 6. But that’s all for this week…and last. My wrist hurts and I need a nap.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Sweet Dreams--Part 9

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

CW: Smut (dry humping) in this part. Mentions of using sex to numb feelings. Please read with caution and skip if need be.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

________________________________

There are certain messages Calum’s used to seeing--ones about meetings that have gotten pushed back, good morning texts from you, one from his parents about some sort of article they came across and wanted to send to him, thinking it would be good for him. There’s the texts from Michael or Luke or Ashton about bullshit--videos, memes, a bad selfie in their thread. There’s the text messages about a cute dog or cat that someone’s spotted in public. Then there are text messages that Calum is not prepared for. Ones that he hopes he never gets accustomed to receiving, that are bearing the bad news. 

However, seeing, If I asked to borrow the back garden or some kind of back yard area to tie dye socks, would that be an immediate no? is the type of text that Calum thinks he would never want to brace himself for. There would be no fun in being prepared for spontaneity. Calum laughs, dragging the towel over his face to wipe away some of the sweat pouring from his hairline. Even with the heat of the summer fading, the long hours on the weekend with the shed still causes a sweat to break out. 

Yes, you could use whatever you needed, baby. 

Excellent, because I may already be here. Are you working on the shed?

Calum taps the icon for a call. It rings, once then twice against his ear. “Hi, love,” you answer. The pet name never fails to send a jolt of desire down his spine. You always say it so softly, like you’re trying to savor the taste of every syllable on your tongue. Sometimes, Calum’s tempted to ask what it tastes like. Does it taste sweet like cotton candy when he calls you baby?

“Hi, baby. Now what is this about needing to dye some socks?

“Charlie wants tie dye socks. The ones in the store don’t have color combinations that he likes. I’ve got some dye from when I had to recolor some shirts that were starting to fade and helping roommates out with stuff. The apartment’s been overtaken because Josie’s invited friends over, which I knew would be happening so it’s not a problem. But I know I have free time and can’t sit still to save my life. You don’t have to say it. Hence why I’m asking to borrow space for a little bit.”

“There’s always space here. Do you need help setting up somewhere? Put you closer to the laundry room--wouldn’t you need that for dying?”

“Yes, I should say, the socks would have to stay there for at least today and then if I could stay the night, I’d rinse them in the morning and take them with me.”

Calum nods, though you can’t see it. “Yeah, that’s okay. Whatever you need.”

Faintly in the background, voices arise from your side of the phone. “You’re supposed to be gone. You can’t tease us like this,” someone hollers. 

Calum just makes out the words but catches your laughter as you respond, “I am a ghost. You do not see me.”

“That’s it, I’m dead. Dead,” the person laughs. 

“Are you still using the service entrance? I have let the guards at the main entrances know about you. You literally can just walk into the front door,” Calum states through his laughter. 

“If I’m honest, my brain just went on autopilot mode and hadn’t realized I’d missed the turn for the main entrance until I was already past it.”

“Habit, huh?”

“You know they say they die hard.”

“It’s alright. Next time, you’ll get it. I’m shocked the codes are still the same for you.”

“I don’t think it’s been deactivated yet. Part of me wonders if Janet’s ever going to deactivate it.”

“She may not.” It shouldn’t shock Calum if Janet decided not too. Though, he does think it might be a tough sale to security. They could win the battle if need be, but Calum worries about that for another day--should it ever come up. “But what do you need for this tie dying venture? A table or something, I’m sure.”

“I can get all that, don’t worry.”

“You sure? At least let me get you a table out from storage, baby.” Calum figures that it might be a mute point, that you might already have the table, but he’s still going to offer. The last thing he’ll do is not attempt to help. After throwing a quick warning back over his shoulder to the guys assisting him, he starts towards the doors. He doubts he can beat you to wherever you’re headed if it’s not directly outside. 

“You’d have to come all the way through the back when I’m already inside to grab it,” you counter. 

You are right. The curse to the size of the castle and its grounds is that sometimes it’s much too big for its own good. Getting anywhere in the residential wing is a bit of a chore--long hallways, limited number of doors. Calum’s sure it’s all due to safety, someone somewhere had a reason for the pain, but that’s not going to stop Calum from trying. Not when he knows it’s for your brother. The last thing he wants to do is get in the way of that relationship. 

“I can at least try,” Calum quips back. He’s never considered himself a track star, but he’s glad for the years he did football. 

“Don’t wind yourself out, love.”

“Is that a challenge I hear?”

Your laughter echoes, skips for just a moment but then your voice filters back in through the speakers. “I wouldn’t dare dream of such a thing. But seriously, I’ve already got a table. You better turn yourself back around.”

Calum continues on, just as he gets to the door, a bit more huffy than he would ever like to admit, he spies you rounding the corner from the hallway storage is on. “Hi baby,” he calls out once you make it closer to him.  

“You’re hardheaded, you know?”

“Only….everyday though.”

You pause in the doorway, table in your grip--it’s a smaller one, but taller so you don’t have to bend down so much with it. “Yet, somehow, I still find myself attracted to it.”

“It’s the boyish charm. Need anything else?”

“Boyish charm,” you laugh, leaning into him a little. “We can call it that.”

Calum meets you, a quick kiss before you continue on through the door he’s holding open. It’s a silly thought, Calum tells himself, as he watches you carry on through the garden. You’re careful as you go, keeping the table a good six inches away from the ground as you go. But something does feel a little different. Your smiles at him melt a little bit more, feel a little bit warmer than before. To see you comfortable enough to ask for a kiss--even a peck as it was--in public made his stomach flutter yesterday. 

The party was about you, so Calum withheld any conversation about it. The thing his parents did teach him was to be mindful of the time and place in addressing certain conversations. But for you to think, well before asking, that the castle would be free to you feels like further confirmation. You are changing, or maybe it’s a bit more like you’re unraveling. Though you and Calum walked in the early stages, you’d never mentioned your siblings. Now with that bit of information revealed Calum seems just how much you care about them--enough to dye socks so they have what they want. 

He can’t say much about your dating life prior. He assumes you might’ve had some experience prior. Calum can say for certainty that building the relationship with him has been slow with you. Worry and concern are the biggest culprits for that. But that seems to be falling slowly to the wayside. Calum won’t take any credit for this. He just watches, carries with him the tiny pieces of how you’d opened up. He does not consider himself a poet; he’s much too meticulous with when and how he shares anything. But if love is watching someone blossom into something more magnificent than they’d ever been before, then he thinks he’d ought to give it a shot to capture the feeling of being witness to it. It’s pride without arrogance, awe without jealousy. An emotion sure pure he’s sure he’s never felt it once since he left his childhood. But he feels it now, watching you pause at tomato plants. 

If all Calum gets to do is watch you grow and evolve, then it will still be a life well lived. 

“You’ll let flies in, Your Highness,” Janet teases passing back the doors. 

“Just put me on fly duty,” Calum laughs, but does move to let the door close behind him. There’s no embarrassment as Calum catches up behind you at being caught staring. “See anything else ready to be picked?”

“Oh, that’s still well beyond my wheelhouse. But I don’t think so.”

“You know more than me.” Calum means it sincerely. That you do know more about the garden than he does. But he thinks too that there’s a kind of life that you’ve lived that Calum had only once thought would be his. It’s a great honor to serve, take on his duty as expected. But there’s a little bit of life, a certain kind of living that he’d never really do. There’s a certain kind of wisdom he didn’t have. Not that Calum would ever want to romanticize your struggle and your suffering. But he knows that your experience gives you a perspective different than his--a perspective that Calum’s glad you’re willing to share with him. 

“I’m sure your mother could teach both of us a thing or two about gardening. How’s the shed coming along?”

The new one fades out of view, leaving the current restoration project bare in front of the two of you as you walk closer to it. “It’s going,” Calum returns. “There’s some shelving we’re working on now and the bench. A little behind schedule, but we anticipated that much from the start.”

“Looks good though. A fresh coat of paint?”

It’s the same blue as before, just not chipping anymore. “Yeah, a little birdie suggested it.”

“One smart bird.”

Calum helps you get set up--from getting the table stable to getting the dye into the more appropriate squeezable bottles, and once you’ve sworn up and down at least three times that you’ve got it from there, he ventures back over to the shed. The group doesn’t say much, but the smiles passed around them tell Calum everything he needs to do. He’ll never live this down. 

“It’s not a crime to be in love,” he laughs. 

“No one said it was. But to think, the same man just a year ago was swearing off love now following his partner like a puppy--it’s quite the sight,” Vance returns, looking up from his measuring where he works on the last few pieces of the built-in bench before they’ll start installing it. Getting power to the shed set them back longer than anticipated and when Vance’s gout flared, there were a few days that a lot of the light work went into place--like the painting and verifying the shelving design. This weekend is hopefully one of the last two big pushes to get the main structures in place. From there Calum will work on getting the table ordered, chairs, and the final furnishings. 

“I guess a lot changes in a year,” Calum answers. 

“I guess it does. Now c’mon lover boy, you’ve got a bench to install.”

It’s easy to get lost in the pop of the staple gun, in the measuring and re-measuring. Calum finds himself waiting for the click of each piece slotting in together; it’s a satisfying sound. It doesn’t take too long with Vance’s help to get the skeleton of the bench installed. Though it does take a little bit of finesse to get the paneling up over the skeleton. By the time the sun starts to dip just a hair down in the sky, but not quite touching the horizon, the bench is fully nearly assembled. The top isn’t bolted in yet and won’t be until the cushion is fashioned to the top, so the lid is resting on the structure for the time being. 

“Give it a test,” Vance suggests. “Make sure it’s up there sturdy.”

Calum’s weight seems to make no difference to the unit. There’s no creaks, no sagging. With a bit more courage, Calum swings his legs up and stretches out over the item. His feet hang off just a little, but that’s little to be concerned about. Given the space of the shed in total square feet, there was no way to make the bench as tall as him. But it’s solid beneath them. 

“It’s good,” Calum states, pushing up from the bench. 

“You’ll need these for tomorrow,” Vance calls out, pulling out a bag of metal hardware from his belt. Calum catches it with ease and notices the black hinges and screws assembled into the bag. Tomorrow Tamara comes by to help get the bench upholstered, though Calum suspects she’s always going to want to get Calum to finish buying the furnishings tomorrow too. Vance is taking the day to spend with his wife for their anniversary so it’s nice to be able to switch off to other aspects in the meantime. 

“Have fun tomorrow.” The guys laugh just a little at Calum’s statement. Even though Vance called Calum out about Calum’s own behavior, Vance was just as guilty. Every chirp of Vance’s phone made him pause to see if it was his wife. Albeit, Calum suspects there’s more going on at home over the last few weeks. Vance was talking more and more now about wanting to be a dad. It’s not his place to put out information that wasn’t ready, but Calum holds the suspicion close to his chest. 

Vance flips them off but his own laughter bubbles. “Your minds are absolutely in the fucking gutter, man. 

“Might be, but we already know exactly what’s going to happen tonight,” Parker pipes in from the opened door of the shed. 

“And you can’t even get your dick wet, so I don’t want to hear it,” Vance huffs. 

Parker was behind Calum in age by about a year and a half, but the two of them shared more in common than initially suspected. Parker’s highschool sweetheart hadn’t called it off before leaving for college. It left Parker behind, his family unable to afford the costs. Parker had taken courses with the community college before moving to vocational school to learn welding and HVAC. According to Parker, he’d gone for a trade so that he could have money saved up for a wedding when his love returned. Yet, Parker was left heartbroken instead. Parker’s partner returned for spring break of his sophomore year and called it off, admitting to emotional cheating. Not necessarily out of a desire to hurt Parker but out of loneliness, being on campus by himself and having a hard time in the first semester making friends because he was so homesick. It happened slowly--just as a friendship, someone to confide in about loneliness, hangout on the weekends and show him around the strange new town. But it was becoming clearer more and more as time went that there was someone else to Parker.  Calum, over a few beers, had gotten the story in the initial days of renovations. 

That was five years ago, but Parker hadn’t found anyone else. Not for the lack of trying. Parker always seemed to have a string of dates, stories to tell about who he was seeing, but they rotated out nearly weekly. Each weekend meeting for the renovations started with a hot gossip hour--Parker’s latest string of dates, Vance’s home life about his wife and two dogs, Tamara occasionally joining with stories of her dating life, Logan chimed in with updates about his new partner too, and Calum always carried up the rear in their circle. But Parker is the one that Calum worries about sometimes--the way he laughs at the jokes the other cracks but it sounds a little bit like it’s being forced. 

“Hey, at least he’s trying,” Calum interjects between the laughter. 

Parker is a decent guy, but possibly still too scorned from his first love to really let anyone in. Calum can’t say he doesn't get it. It’s a shitty box to be in, to know that you have so much love to give but someone hurting you so deeply that it makes you want to hide that love away. Whether or not the pain was caused intentionally never really undoes the fact that it cuts so deeply. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve got the stories to back up his efforts,” Vance agrees easily. “Soon, he’ll settle down with a good guy. I know he will. But I think we’re at a good stopping point for today, yeah?”

The lot agrees. Calum takes survey of the progress--Logan and Paul have been working on the shelves while Calum and Vance focused on the bench.  Only the foundations and arches of the unit exist based on the work done today. But it did take a little trial and error to get the arches to match. It’s clear though the shape it’s taking on. Once all the shelves are in and attached, they’ll paint it. Thankfully the paneling for the bench is a dark brown and matches the color for the rest of the furniture so there’s little to do in terms of staining the unit. 

The wood and tools are all moved inside. Though Calum’s positive there’s no rain in the forecast, he knows that could change on a dime. Rather than trying to replace expensive equipment, he houses it inside of the shed now that the roof is fixed. The guys give their goodbyes as Calum turns the key on the bolt to lock the doors. Everyone on the project has a key should any one of them get here before the others, but Calum’s most often the first one there and the last one to leave. 

“Thanks for that,” Parker states. Calum looks to his left, a little startled that Parker was still around. “For sticking up to Vance like that. I know he doesn’t mean any harm with those jokes, but they do get a little old. So I just wanted to say I appreciate you saying something.”

“Of course, man. Anytime,” Calum returns. “I get it. You know that.”

Parker’s nod is soft. “Yeah, I do. But still, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow for a couple hours at least. I don’t think we’ve got much left to do now.”

“No, it is shaping up nicely. I still appreciate your help with all this. Even though this is pretty far from HVAC.”

Parker laughs. “Yeah, yeah, it’s not exactly the ports on an AC unit, but I’ve got a few more skills than that too. Have a great night.”

“You too,” Calum calls out as Parker heads back for the doors. 

Calum’s not sure why he expects that you’re still working on the socks. But all he finds instead is the empty spot that you once had a station up at. There’s not even indentations in the grace to show where you stood. 

“Done already?”

Calum spins to see you walking out from where the new shed stands. “I was wondering where you’d gone,” he laughs, though his heart is still thundering in his chest. 

“Joy asked for a spare hand.” Looking down, Calum can see the patch on your knees from the grass. Maybe not quite a full on stain, but it’s clear where you’d been working with the dirt too with the dark brown spots. 

“You want to borrow something of mine and I do need to do laundry once we get back from drinks, I can throw everything in at once.” 

“A shirt at the least. I think I have some spare pants in your room and I do have an overnight bag too.”

Calum nods, reaching out for your hand. He tries to remember if you do. He knows you took most of the stuff out a couple weeks ago, but he can’t recall if you came back with anything more. You could’ve and the time’s just slipped from his memory. But the trek back instead passes in an exchange about the work done--there’s a pause at the laundry on the first floor for Calum to take in the sight of the socks still contained away to allow the dye to set and settle into the fibers. 

“They look good,” Calum compliments with a squeeze to your hand. 

“Thanks, tomorrow’s the true test to see how the colors did.”

“I’m sure they’ll turn out well.” The two of you continue on up to Calum’s room. The squeak of your shoes as you two climb the stairs. Though the elevators are a faster way up, you head for the stairs and Calum follows behind. But it is a relief to hit the residential hallways. The work from earlier and Calum’s earlier work out are catching up with the burn of the stairs. The echo of slightly labored breathing softens as the two of you push closer and closer to his room. 

“We’re never taking those stairs again,” Calum huffs, pushing his door open for you to enter through. 

“You might not, but I think I’ll take them again.” Your own retort is stuttered as your breath comes and goes with big inhales and exhales. 

“Yeah, right,” Calum laughs, shuffling past you as you paused at his drawers. On your side of the bed, resting on the floor, is the bag you mentioned earlier. It’s a silent shuffle in the room, the opening and closing of drawers, the zipper being opened to your bag. 

“Do you want to shower first?” Calum offers. He’s still contemplating what to wear but given your ease to pull his yellow button down out from the closet and your fresh jeans from the drawer, you seem to have him beat. Though time’s not really an issue, Calum isn’t fond of being late when not necessary. 

“Do you want help and we can shower together? You know, saving water and what not?” you laugh, slipping behind him. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re suggesting something there,” he teases. 

“Do you trust me?” It’s a soft question. 

“I do.” It’s an easy answer to an easy question. 

“Then trust it’s nothing more than that. I just wanted to be close to you is all.”

That--that’s the kind of confession that makes Calum’s toes curl. “Then please help before we are half an hour late because I can’t decide.”

You press a kiss to his shoulder, though Calum’s sure he’s covered in sawdust and sweat--the conway studio’s T-shirt he’d gotten from Michael as a gift when Michael worked there for an artist on their debut album is a little unforgiving in some areas with the sweatstains that show up. “Of course. Where’s your casual meter? How do you normally meet the boys?”

“It never matters that much, if I’m honest,” Calum returns. Your arms wind around his midsection and Calum’s hold on the hangers slackens so that he can trace over the skin of your forearm with the tips of his fingers. 

Your hum vibrates your shoulder but you tap his stomach before pulling away. Calum watches you shuffle back over to his drawers. You browse through the drawer only for a moment or two before unearthing a t-shirt, white with red trim at the neck and sleeves. His taste tester t-shirt. “We can start here,” you offer. 

It doesn’t sound like a full on question, but there’s just enough lilt in the tone that Calum reassures you with a nod. He pushes his shirts off to one side of the closet before focusing on his bottoms. There’s some comfort when you’re next to him, watching over his shoulder at the selections. It’s less about the clothes and more about the fact that Calum wants you to know he needs you, cares about having you there for even the little things. Passing on his black jeans, Calum settles for some black trousers. You pick a black belt with a big silver Western buckle to top it off. 

“Looks good to me,” Calum affirms. 

“Well, let’s giddy up cowboy.” It falls with a teasing laugh, but Calum wouldn’t take it any other way. 

The water is warm, hitting nearly like mist over Calum’s shoulder until he gets just enough water to get the pressure right. Once the shower roars, he lets you into the stream first. You only take a moment to get your face wet before you’re moving for his shampoo. 

“Is there something in my hair?” he asks. There wasn’t any checking in the mirror before getting into the shower, which might’ve been his first mistake. 

“Yeah, there’s some dust.”

“I can do it,” Calum comments, reaching out for the bottle, but you tuck it behind your back. This shower though it comfortably fits the two of you is not the best place to attempt to out muscle someone. Calum soaks his hair and turns as you direct him. The friction of your fingertips over Calum’s scalp is firm but not overbearing. It’s enough to make his eyes flutter close as you work. The kind of tenderness and care that makes his innards melt. So lost in the sensation, Calum nearly misses your directive for him to rinse the shampoo. Your work is swift to comb the conditioner through. 

Calum goes to rinse it when you’re done, but you catch him by his elbow. “Not so fast,” you laugh. “Let it sit for another minute. Scooch to where I am.”

“I’ve never let my conditioner sit this long before,” Calum returns, but lets you stand in front of the stream from the shower head. 

“And you’ll thank me later when you see the difference another minute or two makes,” you laugh. Calum can only watch. The water dripping down over your skin traces every line, every divot. Calum is no artist but he’d carve you into stone like the water is doing--highlight tautness of your muscles as you flex them, carrying over the curve of your butt. You are art work in a way that Calum thinks he understands finally the need to capture it in something so permanent. He knows he’d like to take his time to get every detail right. His memory is fallible. It’ll fail him eventually, but if he carved you into marble he’d always be able to remember the scars, the mole; every cell would hold to eternity in the rock. 

“You can rinse now,” you direct after letting the water wash away the soap from your legs after your final scrub down of them. 

Calum rubs his styling pomade over his palms--post shower and dressed, the only final touches are his hair. The extra time with the conditioner did soften it a little bit more than he’s used to this being. But that was information he was willing to give out easily. Though as he slips his fingers through his hair to hold the work of the blow dryer down, he is impressed. You watch from behind, fastening the button on your jeans into place. 

“You don’t have to admit it, but your face says it all,” you laugh. 

“Shut up. You don’t get to be right all the time,” Calum huffs. He wants to keep it together, be able to deliver the sarcasm with a straight face, but he ultimately cracks. His smile lifts his cheeks and he giggles when you shake your head at the antic. 

“I’m only right some of the time,” you answer. 

“Some, all, it’s all the same difference. Is Teagan okay by the way? You mentioned yesterday being worried about her.”

“I hope so. I really hope so. I don’t--I don’t want to assume anything right now, so it might be just a one off thing.”

“Well, I’m here for you and her. When you’re ready to say more just let me know. If there’s anything I can do in the meantime, just let me know too.” It’s clear the way you waltz around what happened that you don’t really want to say too much about it. Though it does make a small batch of worry stir in Calum’s stomach, he’s not going to force you to discuss something you’re not ready to discuss. He hopes it’s nothing. Hopes that maybe this is extra fret for ultimately nothing. But in the event that’s it’s more, he knows he’ll do whatever he needs to help you out. 

“Thanks, love. I appreciate it.” Your arms slip under his and you smooth a small fly away. “Ready?”

“Born ready.”

Calum’s quick to direct you to the elevators on the way down to his car. He can still feel the slight quake in his thighs from the effort earlier when he squats down to get into the driver seat. It doesn’t help that just a couple days ago it was leg day in his gym routine. Yet, each time he forgets how long the recovery is from the torturous routine. The radio turns out immediately from the last time he was in the car, but Calum lowers the volume just a smidge. 

“Is there anything I should know before meeting your friends? Any subjects off limits?” you ask after a few minutes of being on the road. 

“You already know that Michael’s a producer. Luke’s got his hand in music, solo work. Ashton’s got jobs on jobs. Between his work to start a wellness app, he’s got a candle company. He’s working with Luke I think on some instrumental music. But they’re a cool group. Micheal’s married. Luke’s engaged. Ashton’s newly single so that might be a little bit of a tough spot, but if I’m honest, Violet wasn’t good for him so none of the guys are that torn up about her. We’re there for Ashton of course.”

“So a politician, a producer, a singer, and a hippie walk into a bar,” you start and Calum snorts. “And one of them says to the bartender, I need a drink that’ll help me through the day I’ve just had, with no major side effects and if I saw purple elephant at the end of the cup I wouldn’t be that made either, can you guess who ordered?”

“It was a group order,” Calum returns. 

“Correct.”

“And I wouldn’t say Ashton’s a hippie. He’d gotten into school on some scholarships, dude’s practically a whizz, but definitely tends to lean more spiritual and philosophical than not.”

“I’ll give him a fair shake, promise. It’s just--wellness app? Do you know the focus of it?”

Calum hadn’t gotten all the specifics. Ashton mentioned it during one of their last hangouts and by the time that it really sunk in what Ashton was doing, the conversation gravitated to something else--there were jokes, teases, and before Calum could digest in his slight alcoholic haze the idea, the topic was long lost. 

“We’ll find out more today I’m pretty sure though. He can go a mile a minute if you let him.”

“I’m excited to meet them then. See what kind of mischief you get up to.” Though Calum wouldn’t call it mischief himself, he’s excited too. 

____________________________________

The thing about first impressions is that you’ll never know if you’re landing them well. There are no do overs. Only ever grace and more grace. But as you follow the half step behind Calum into the bar, you’re hoping you won’t need too much grace. It’s not packed for a Saturday, not yet anyway. Though you think that it might be too early to make such judgment at only 8 in the evening. The night is still young and you’re sure that as the hours crept by more and more people would crop up. 

“Calum!” 

You hear the voice before you spot two men waving with grins on their face. They sit next to each other at the table for what appears to be situated for six. One has blond hair that faintly curls at the top. The other man has a shaggier cut with pink dyed ends underneath a beanie. Calum laughs as he greets them, hugs and pats on the back. They reach out for you too, unphased by your addition to the outing. The man with the beanie introduces himself as Michael and faintly curly haired blond introduces himself as Luke. 

Calum doubles down on such introductions, clearly missing the quiet exchanges but no one corrects him before you two settle down opposite of Michael and Luke. Calum pulls out your chair and you cut your eyes up with a soft smile. “Don’t,” Calum commands with a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you telling me he’s not pulling your chair out all the time? I raised you better than this,” Michael jokes. 

“I am a gentleman,” Calum counters, “at all times.”

Luke joins in on the ragging with a tsk falling into the air from the suck of his teeth. “Then tell me why I don’t believe you, son. Just doesn’t seem right over here.”

The banter falls between them easily. You know it’s the years, all the time they spent together. And just as quickly as it starts, it stops even though Calum squawks to your left that he is the picture perfect partner to you. “Yeah, but we’ve learned not to trust you.” Michael turns to you at the end of the sentence. “So, let’s hear your thoughts. On a scale of zero to ten where is Calum falling on being a gentleman? Pretend he isn’t here. Which I know is hard since he’s so loud right now,” Michael cuts in over Calum’s muttered huffs. 

You ponder the question, even as Calum slips his hand into yours, sliding a menu left behind closer to you, though one’s right in front of you. “Eight and a half. But he’s closing in on the 9.”

“I’d ask when I haven’t been a gentleman, but I fear the answer,” he snorts. 

“I have to give you room to grow. Don’t want you to get too comfortable,” you tease. 

Michael’s laughter echoes, even in the thump of the bass overhead. You hear his crackle. “I like you already. I’ve heard through the grapevine though that you’re starting a new job Monday?”

“Would the grapevine be about 6’2?” you ask. “But yes, Monday is my first day.”

“Are you nervous at all?” Luke questions. 

You shrug, playing at the corner of the menu Calum slid your way. “A job’s a job. The people seem nice so far, so not terribly nervous. I’m a bit more used to first days at new jobs though,” you answer. From what you gathered, there’s a strong likelihood that they don’t share a background like yours. You could be wrong of course. But given what they’re doing now, you’re not sure what kind of background they could have. 

“Sorry I’m late,” a scruffier voice calls out. “Sup, Cal.” They laugh and you look up over your shoulder to a man with almost shoulder length hair. There’s a slight wave to the warm brown strands. He smiles at you big and bright, the action making the sunglasses bounce just a little on his face. “I’m Ashton,” he greets, holding out a hand. 

You shake it in return, offering your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same, same. Again, apologies for my tardiness. Not the kind of first impression I want to give.”

But grace, but grace, but grace. “Consider the tardiness excused. Better late than never.”

His laughter is soft as he nods. “Right, right on.”

“I was about another ten minutes from putting together a search party,” Michael relays to Ashton as he settles to your right. 

“Nah, you can put the dogs back and let them free in the backyard. Though I don’t think South would dare get his paws dirty.”

“You have dogs?” you ask Michael. 

He nods. “Two. South and Moose.” Before you can even ask to see pictures, he’s pulling out his phone. There on the table, the screen lights up your face as you swipe through the gallery Michael pulled up. “South has the golden coat--very much a diva.”

“Last time I petsit him, he acted like he didn’t even know me,” Calum huffs. “Until it was time for him to go and then he didn’t want to go.”

“A diva,” Michael concludes. 

“They’re precious,” you coo, handing the device back after two more swipes. 

“Do you have any pets by chance?” Luke tacks on. 

“No, but I’m open to the idea. Just wasn’t feasible for a while.” There’s a nod of understanding but it leads down a tangent about Luke and his dog Petunia. It’s nice for the conversation to flow naturally. By the time you order your first round of drinks and some appetizers for the table, you learn about Luke’s older brothers, Ashton’s younger siblings, the way Michael, Luke, and Calum found each other in middle school thanks to band class. Luke’s mother used to teach Ashton as he is older than the rest of the group, resting right in the same age bracket as you. But even still, he’d been reached out by Michael in a string of bizarre fated events to guest drum for a gig they’d landed. 

Though the band didn’t live long, given Calum’s trip off to football camp in Brazil and an unfortunately timed injury to Ashton’s wrist, they still kept close. It floors you for a minute to learn that in addition to school Ashton had taken a job at a KFC. He’d been doing it to bring in extra cash for his family and thankfully through the gigs, he’d managed to worm his way into the music world. He didn’t let the job go fully until he was met with a do or die moment. To say Ashton did is an understatement, but there’s something still modest in the well worn leather jacket and faded t-shirt. You’re sure if you saw the brand’s name etched into either one of the items, it still might give you a heart attack, but something in the ensemble lets you know that Ashton is not overly frivolous. The items stay in rotation until they’re unable to be saved. 

“I’ll be right back,” Calum announces, pushing in a little closer to you. His lips press gingerly to your cheek before he stands. “No one scare them off while I’m gone.”

“Oh, we’ll behave,” Ashton giggled from behind his bottle. For a man who was newly single according to Calum, he was keeping his wits about him. He asked you questions, cracked jokes with Michael and Luke. Now without the sunglasses on his face, you spot the bright eyes to match his bright smile. 

“Calum tells us you paint,” Luke offers up before sucking the ranch off his fingers. “Working on anything new?”

“Oh, I’m almost finished with this painting for him. So, nothing new really. I should’ve been done ages ago, but something about it doesn’t feel finished just yet. We’ll see if it ever jumps out at me.”

“I’m sure it will soon,” Luke smiles.

“Would you ever consider doing art full time?” Michael questions. He goes in for another sip of his cocktail. 

“I much prefer it as a hobby, if I’m honest. I think I could see myself maybe taking it more seriously in the future, but I don’t know if it’s my next career move or not.”

“So you enjoy the restaurant life?” Ashton asks. “Or is that just where you prefer to stay in as your career?”

“A little bit of both, I guess,” you contemplate. “The industry is deadly  and I don’t want to be a linecook forever, but I think for right now, I prefer to say that this industry is where I make my money. When I leave work, I leave it--none of it comes back home with me.”

“Except for Calum,” Luke snorts. 

“I mean it’s not smart to shit where you eat, but so far it’s yet to blow up in my face so I’m hoping it never does. And technically, Calum’s not been to my place yet, so work has never actually come home with me. Can’t say the same for him.”

The boys cackle at your correction. “Fair,” Luke snickers. “I’m just happy to see him doing well again after everything that happened.”

The air feels sucked out of the room. Ashton and Michael’s smiles fall like bricks from their faces, clattering to the table beneath you all. You’re not aware of anything before, but now that it’s out there it sits on the table within arm’s reach like the wings and fries in front of you. Yet you don’t know if you should touch it. Don’t know if you should follow up on Luke’s line of conversation or pocket it for later. 

You reach for a fry instead, dipping into your side bowl of ketchup. “You sure know how to drop a bomb Luke. How’s the music going though?” 

You’re curious. What had happened to Calum before? As far as you were aware, he’d not been dating anymore, not seriously before you. Well, not that you knew of while you worked in the kitchen of course. The almost two years had been pretty quiet on the gossip train about Calum until you two got involved. But there’s plenty of time prior to that that you couldn’t account for. 

“So, you-you don’t know?” Michael questions. It cuts right under the question you asked to Luke. 

“No, no I don’t know.” It’s a simple sentence. Because you don’t. And you’re too tired to panic about what you don’t know. The worry of Teagan and Charlie outweighs whatever information you haven’t been given from Calum. 

“It’s a good thing,” Michael clarifies. “There’s been a really good change in Calum because of you. It’s not my place to tell you. But I do want you to know it isn’t bad.”

Luke sets his bottle down and pushes it with the tips of his fingers a couple more inches from his reach. “I’m sorry. Definitely should’ve been more careful about that kind of stuff. But it is good, like Michael says.”

Ashton scoots the bottle Luke pushed away closer to him. “Yeah, buddy, let me just hold onto that for you.”

It’s not fun to know that Calum’s withheld information. But you know that people will always play certain things close to their chest. You kept Teagan and Charlie close for so long. You kept your family drama close. Though it is a jolt, a shock to your system, you think it’s only fair that Calum has the things he wants to keep close too. Everyone has their demons. Perhaps the signs were always there. But there is always a reason. 

“So, everyone here is in music somehow. Who wants to go first about their current project? And please one at a time, or I will have to break out the talking stick, or rather talking bottle,” you tease. 

“Talking bottle?” Michael laughs. 

“Well, it’s a talking stick originally. Whomever has the stick speaks. Everyone else stays quiet and then it goes around person to person and back and forth between people if need be.” Your empty bottle of beer stares back at you and you lift a few inches off from the table. “But when in a bar, you improvise.”

“Are you saying we talk over each other?” Luke laughs with a bit of a squeal to his voice at the same time Ashton states, “I don’t really think we need to go that far.”

“If the boot fits,” you laugh. The fries have gone cold due to the time you’ve all spent talking, less focused on the actual drinks and food. But you reach for another couple as the boys bicker for a moment. They’re more like brothers than they are friends, as you watch them, reminding you of the way Teagan and Charlie interact with each other. It’s a playful banter, a quip always at the ready with them. 

“You okay?” 

You turn to the question, though you don’t need to. Calum’s scooted in a little closer to you. You can feel his warmth seeping into your back through his shirt on your body. “I’m okay. I like your friends.”

Calum’s lips are soft on your cheek. “Good. I think they like you too.”

“Try love them,” Michael corrects and no sooner than he makes the statement, he’s sucked back into Ashton’s claims that a band, you didn’t catch the name, is overrated. Ashton quickly reasserts he doesn’t mean it negatively. 

“They’re just too derivative of a derivative and ultimately aren’t producing anything cutting,” Ashton further explains. 

“We’re not talking about fucking algebra,” Michael quips. “We’re so far from the origins of the soundscapes for most genres. It’s all going to sound derivative, because it is. But it’s not about new, or shiny. It’s about saying it in a way that no one else has.”

It’s like Luke’s early faux pas didn’t even happen. Ashton and Michael verbally circle each other all the while Luke watches like one does a tennis match--Ashton then Michael. Michael then Ashton--back and forth for all it to end in a deuce. You wonder if either will ever get the two points to win. But the waitress comes by again and the collection take stalk of the table. There’s a few bottles scattered and you help her collect those, and order up on more drinks--some water, some sodas, a few more cocktails and alcoholic drinks thrown into the mix. 

“Would you ever take commissions? Even on the side?” Luke ponders. “Like one off projects and such?”

“Possibily,” you answer with a shrug. The majority of your work went to to a couple local places--the local children’s hospital enjoyed having your work on display as the children loved it. You’d gifted Teagan and Charlie small paintings after they begged for them. “Again, don’t want to make it my career, but you know if someone wanted to pay me to do something for them, I’d entertain the thought.”

“An original painting could do wonders at the local charity circuit,” Ashton pipes in. The comment isn’t for you and you peer over your shoulder to Calum. 

He stares wide eyed over his first beer that he’s yet to finish. “It could. But I-if it’s not your thing, you don’t have to do it.”

“Do what?” you question. There’s been no conversation about anything for charity in your presence. 

“In December, I have-I have a charity banquet to attend. There’s stuff that people auction off to raise money for the connected charities. I mentioned the the guys that it’d be nice to auction off something more meaningful. But I wasn’t sure if it was even appropriate to ask you about it. You’d only have two months and some change to finish it. There’s a website that goes up in the last week of November, a week and a half before the event so people can see the options.”

“Which charities?” You’d heard of the event, watched clips of the auction with more curiosity than true interest to watch rich people flaunt their philanthropy. 

“I think this year is focusing on women’s rights, especially the efforts on pushing law enforcement to investigate those missing. The deadline to submit proposals is in two weeks though. Which is like, not great planning on my end I know.”

“What do you normally auction off?”

“Volunteer time.” 

“How comfortable are you with volunteer time?” You’d at least think about it. It might be more than you could handle, but you’d chew the thought over. Especially since you did still have questions about whatever Luke alluded to earlier. 

“I like it; I don’t mind volunteering. It’s a nice change of pace honestly. Just--I think others should see your talents too.”

The blush that creeps up on his cheeks nearly melts you. Though your gut initially wants to dismiss it as the flush of alcohol, you know the truth. When Calum casts his gaze down and picks at his nails, you know that he’s a little shy in the confession. You take his hand gingerly on top of the table and the action is enough for him to look up. “I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

At the very end when the check hits the table, all four boys reach it, cards and cash in hand. Ashton ends up footing the bill but the rest of the boys hand over cash or tap at their screens to ensure Ashton’s paid for their portions. “How much do I owe Calum?” you ask, noticing the bill’s being split four ways instead of five. 

He shakes his head. “I got you, baby. Don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“More than sure.”

“I’ll pay next time.” It’s not fully a suggestion, but you still offer it softly. 

Calum takes a squeeze at your hand after slipping his phone into his pocket. “Okay.” It’s easy, simple. He smiles at you and the group pushes up from the table. Michael, Luke, and Ashton all give you hugs as you leave. 

“You’ll come next time too, right?” Luke asks. “We bring all the partners. Be a nice time, I think.”

“I’d be happy to see you all again,” you agree. The agreement leads to another round of hugs, the group spilling out into the outdoors. The night is darker, a little cooler than you first left it. Calum’s hold around your hand tightens for only a moment and you squeeze in return at the action. 

You know there’s always a better time, a better place. The parking lot of this bar definitely does not feel like the right time. But you’re not sure when it will be. “Luke mentioned something when you stepped away to the restroom. And-and I’d like to ask you about it.”

The tension thickens. Calum’s shoulders become rigid under the t-shirt. “It doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

Not a shut down, only a phish for more information. One you’re happy to supply. “It is good in a way. The group seems to be really happy that you’re in a good relationship. But the way Luke said it, it made me think there’s definitely something, or someone before.”

“I don’t want anyone else if that’s what you’re wondering. That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I’m-I’m not worried about that. I’m not really worried about anything. I just--whenever you’re ready to talk about what happened before, I’d like to know.”

You think that’s going to be the end of the conversation. You wouldn’t fault it at all. Perhaps, you’d been all too blinded by Calum choosing you that you hadn’t fully wondered what was going on in his past. You didn’t think the stories of Calum’s childhood could be a smoke screen. They were real. They were all a part of what made Calum Calum. But Luke’s comment cracks open the possibility that you’d been blinded. As hungry as you were to have Calum to yourself the reality of it all is that he’s not to be consumed. 

“I just--there’s stuff I haven’t asked you, you know? I want the bad stuff too. So I know how to be there for you. So I know how to love you.” The words fall, buzzing on your lips and tongue. You’d want to pick them up after they’ve fallen, but you know it's wasted energy. They’re out there now. You can’t do anything but watch Calum’s back. The tension has dropped. He doesn’t look ready to run. 

“Part of it feels ridiculous,” Calum admits. He tugs your hand, closing the gap between the two of you. “There’s so much worse that’s happening to other people. And my hurt just starts to feel small.”

“It’s not a competition of pain. Your hurt isn’t smaller than someone else’s.” You’re slotted against Calum’s chest. There’s no brim of a hat, no glasses to hide him away. There’s just the fear--plain as day on his face. “If I ever made this feel like a competition, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you didn’t make it feel like a competition. I think,” he pauses with a sigh. “It’s totally different. I feel like I want to love again. With you. It wasn’t always like that.”

Your fingertips ache. You want to cup his jaw, ask him to explain to you from the top what it was like before. You don’t, thinking a camera lens could be pointed at you right now. Perhaps there would always be and now it’s less about them and more about Calum. With caution, you trace at his jaw, trailing up until your palm rests against his full cheek. “I’m glad it’s better now.”

Calum’s eyes shut, lashes nearly brushing the top of his cheeks. Like babies root to touch, Calum turns into your hold, lips pressing to your palm with a kiss. “But it was bad. And you should know.”

“Only when you’re ready,” you whisper. You’re glad there’s no breeze, lest your words have gotten swept up in it. 

“Can I tell you on the drive?”

Your answer is only a nod. You want to do more, kiss him. Let him know you’re there. You think if it could be done, you’d crawl into his chest, whisper to his heart that you don’t have plans on breaking it. But this is not a fairytale. You know strife always comes. The only solace one can have is that they don’t cause too much of it. 

It’s quiet at first, as Calum pulls out of the parking lot and onto the streets. You watch the signs for the highway, watch Calum take the entrance ramp, spending up so that he can merge. You’re not headed back to the palace. You’re actually going in the opposite direction. You don’t know what could be out there, what Calum has up his sleeve. But you don’t question it. 

“Her name is Nora,” Calum starts. 

You know of a Nora-- a princess fit to inherit within the next three years. Her particular people believed in a matriarch. Though Queens took husbands, they almost always never turned over power. “Like Princess Nora or the girl next door to the palace Nora?” 

“The princess,” Calum answers, but he does grin for a brief moment taking a look at your face. 

There are no girls next door--you know that. But somehow the truth still unsettles. You don’t remember murmurs about Nora from the kitchen. The kitchen staff passed time in gossip. You knew more about the royal family you worked for and others merely because the gossip seemingly made the seconds fly by. You’d never cared for it before and didn’t care for it when you worked there. You let the others do the talking. 

“We dated back in college for two and half years.”

That’s well before you would’ve even been considering working for the palace. No wonder it hadn’t come up around you. “I’m guessing it wasn’t amicable.”

Calum shrugs. “I don’t know if amicable is remotely close. But it didn’t end badly. Just rough. When we broke up, I spent a year wallowing. I wanted to pretend I was okay, but she was my first love in a way. I’d dated before in high school, but they’d only lasted a few months. Not nearly enough time to mean anything in comparison.”

“I think your training in Brazil ruined you,” you tease, watching through the front windshield as the dark asphalt and street lights whizz around you. 

“I know, I know. Not a competition. But the crushes in high school were just that--crushes. We dated, held hands, kissed, but Nora was my first serious relationship. I’d been looking at rings.”

Rings-- the word bites at your veins. Calum doesn’t say it with ease, his hands clutching the wheel so hard his knuckles are paling. They’d been deep into the relationship--enough so that marriage was potentially on the line. Your fingers twitch to soothe his, but you restrain yourself given his work at the wheel. 

“Sounds like you never made the purchase?” you probe, hoping it’s as gentle as it can be. You are curious. You want Calum to know that you are listening too. 

“Never had the opportunity, thankfully so, I guess. Nora graduated in December and I graduated in May. She’d taken some summer classes to help get ahead and done some work in high school to get a head start. Nora asked me at the start of winter break, right after she graduated, if I intended on marrying her. I was honest. I told her that I would like to, after we both had a couple years out from school. There would be a lot of logistics involved.”

“Politcs,” you point out. “She’s a part of a matriarch. You’re in a patriarchal system.” The quip about you being lower class, how much easier it is to date someone with no political ties, burns at your tongue. But you know Calum. It won’t go well at all; he’ll beg you to stop the self deprecation, tell you that he loves you for you. It’s all things you know.  

Calum winces at the phrasing. “I mean that’s what it was. But at the time, I didn’t see it like that. I was idealistic about it, toxically optimistically probably. Not that I’m not the same now, but I hope not nearly as much.”

He risks a glance, like he poised a question. You only shrug at first, but then add on, "Optimistic, yes. Toxic, no. You know when you admit you’re wrong.”

“Improvement then, I guess, from then. Nora didn’t want to turn over her right to rule. I didn’t want to turn over my right to rule. And even if I told her she wouldn’t be, she didn’t see it that way. I thought she was being nitpicky. No one would care at the end of the day because her politics would still stand. I wouldn’t interfere with her work. But ultimately, it was--it was crumbling. The second I answered that we could rule separately but still be together and she looked at me with confusion--it was over. Rock meet glass house.”

You can imagine it--the strong brow on Nora furrowing as Calum spoke. The way she might’ve shaken her head and spoke firmly, black hair spilling over her shoulder as it always did in her press speeches. Nora is a force--fierce with seemingly little fear about the perception from others. Where Calum played a careful game, Nora played the explosive kind. She’s smart, by no means did her passion outshine her intelligence, but she was always speaking out first about things. She was one of the people rallying others. It’s easy to see how with Nora it became all or nothing 

Calum continues on, signaling as he speaks to take an exit. “I tried to date, but my heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t want to be dating if I’m honest. I’d told myself that I’d just be single. I’d take on the throne and settle into that- give it five, seven, ten years before I married. It really wouldn’t matter. Luke was trying to set me up on dates. But they never went anywhere. Didn’t even want sex if I’m honest. I refused it a couple times and both girls and guys  thought I was crazy. Sometimes, I don’t know. Sometimes I did it anyway because it was a distraction. Nothing really numbed the pain though. There was just this constant ache I had. I’d envisioned myself a dad--playing sports in the back garden, or in ballet recitals for daddy and daughter dance classes. I’d always pictured myself on the throne, working in the Cabinet. Those weren’t things I’d want to give up, even for Nora. That’s what made it scary. She had her way of thinking. Her people rule the way they do and that’s fine. But I always knew I was going to be King. I knew even if I didn’t always want it that I wouldn’t give up on the responsibility.”

You can hear what’s between those words, what still causes Calum pain.  “But it meant giving up Nora, right? If you were always going to take your throne and she was always going to take hers, then the only thing left is what happened.” It doesn’t shock you to hear how much Calum dreamed of his future. You don’t worry that he still wants it—those things could all be worked out eventually. But you know that Calum’s so caught up on making things work for the best possible outcome that he doesn’t always remember that life is not always about the best. 

“Yeah,” Calum sighs. It’s heavy and comes deep from within his chest, “but I wanted it all. You know. I wanted her and I wanted to follow through on my duties. I wanted it fucking all and at the time, it felt like I’d lost everything. We knew after that conversation it wouldn’t be compatible. Nora and I’s relationship required sacrifices that we were too young and too driven to make. Nora deserves where she’s at. She deserves to rule. And I don’t think she could’ve been happy any other way.”

“Do you think you could’ve been happy any other way? As little as I actually know about her--and I reserve the right to absolutely be wrong about it--it was your relationship too.”

The roads are narrowing. You watch now as the dark asphalt lightens, there’s a few more bumps along the way. You round the bend and the ocean opens up in front of you. You know the beach is closed but it doesn’t seem to stop Calum as he pulls to a stop in the parking lot. The lights stuff off from the car, leaving you surrounded in the thick mass of the night. The sun’s long gone. The lights are off in the truck too. The engine knocks just a little as the vehicle settles. 

“I might’ve been, but if I’m honest I didn’t spend 4 years in college and 4 years under my father’s immediate wings for nothing. I’d been putting time into my own aspirations and I don’t think long term that relationship would’ve been good for me,” Calum answers as he turns to you. The seatbelt clanks against the plastic interior. “I hope the beach is okay.”

“The beach is fine.” You undo your seatbelt as well, listening to the way it winds back up into place. “Making the right choices sometimes isn’t easy,” you admit. Like the right choice to change jobs. Like the right choice to stay for Teagan and Charlie. Like the right choice for Calum to let Nora go. 

“Yeah,” Calum agrees. “Sometimes it’s not.”

You find Calum’s hand, threading your fingers through his. “I hope your choices next time are easier.”

“They’ve gotten easier,” he confesses. “Talking to you was easy. You always treated me like a person.”

“Because you are one.” It’s a simple answer, but you know it to be true. Calum’s just a person. Though he had politics about him, though he was in a world foreign to you at all times and even overwhelming, he was just a person like you. “You’re human like the rest of us.”

“Doesn’t always feel like it.” 

You don’t want to imagine the pressure on Calum’s shoulder, a pressure so unsustainable. But the wheel must spin. The cruelty of it all is that someone has to win and someone has to lose. 

“What’s the relationship like now with Nora? Is it still tense?”

“Not as much as before. It’s professional at this point, as much as it can be.” 

“Two and a half years is a long time though. Makes sense.”

“We tried to make it work. Six months we kept trying to keep pushing and find a solution. But we only sort of grew to resent each other. We were always fighting. Nora called it off, ultimately. She was the one that saw we were crashing and burning. I didn’t want to admit it even if I noticed it too. So to say it was amicable, not quite. It was mutual though.”

You know Calum even in the dark. You know the squint of his eyes, the way his cheeks meld to your hold. You know the catch of his breath when you brush your fingers over the veins on his neck. His veins thump under your touch and then you drag the touch up to his jaw. “Thank you for telling me. That wasn’t easy for you, I can see.”

“I don’t particularly like thinking about it,” Calum admits. His throat seizes. You feel the small quake under your fingers. “I didn’t talk about it. Not even with the boys for a long time.”

“If there’s anyone that understands, it’s me. There’s nasty things in life sometimes. Stuff that we don’t want to talk about, don’t want to deal with. Thing’s we’d prefer to swallow down and never pull back up. I get it,” you assure. 

Something warm hits your fingers. It’s only a few drops--tears you assume. Pushing up, you find his lips, a kiss soft and sweet. Calum’s quick to grapple you, encase you in his arms and tug. You’re pulled as far as you can over the console. And you let yourself go. It’s awkward, your back hurts just a little. But Calum exhales into your mouth, shaky as he breathes. 

“Scoot the seat all back. You’re going to break my back,” you tease after the hug lasts longer than you anticipate.

“That’s now how I imagined doing it,” Calum teases, his breath ghosting over your lips. He reaches down to pull the lever and push the driver seat back. 

Settled onto Calum’s lap, you pull him back into your chest. His fingers are buried--under the shirt--pressing into your flesh like his digits can burrow deeper into your, pass the muscle and fat, into the hollows of blood and organs. You don’t stop him, just press a kiss to his forehead as you cradle his head. His body tremors and there’s the occasional sniffle. The tears are hot on your thumbs, but you wipe them away, slow and steady. 

“It’s okay, Calum. You can let it all out now,” you encourage. You know you can’t fix anything. You can’t change the past. But you let him release it. The thing about carrying things that are buried is that they tend to come back when you don’t want them too--like wild animals fed, the things that get buried only ever come back. 

Your stroke along his neck, over his shoulders. Your words are soft. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay. You’re safe to let it out.”

The tremors cease after a long stretch of time, 10 or so minutes,--Calum’s crying reduced now to just the sniffles, just the remnant of tears that trail down his cheeks. With one deep inhale, Calum brings his face out of your hands and rests his head down on your shoulder. His lips brush at your neck, in what are nearly kisses. Your knees ache, you’re sure that when you finally sit your toes are going to tingle due to the lack of blood for the time being. But this is all temporary, not something you need to worry about when you can still hear the shuddery exhales of Calum. 

“Haven’t had someone in a long time tell me I was safe,” he whispers against your skin. His voice is thick with the tears and emotion he’s split. His arms constrict again around your back, arms locked as if attempting to cage you in. You know better. You know it’s for comfort. 

“Well you are; you’re safe with me.”

“Thank you.” The phrase is followed by a kiss this time to your neck. He follows the line to your throat with more gratitude on his tongue. He paints your skin with the phrase. You wonder when you shower again if the words will show up as tattoos on your throat. His forehead is firm in your sternum but you don’t mind the pressure when he falls back into the shelter of your body. 

“You’re welcome,” you return to Calum. 

His voice rumbles through your chest, you catch something that sounds like smell but you can’t fully place it. You thread your fingers around the back of his neck and squeeze. It’s not enough pressure to cause pain but it coaxes his head back. “I said you smell good,” he laughs. 

“Thank you,” you laugh. 

The dark doesn’t make it easy, but you imagine that his cheeks might be flushed, that there might be a little bit of pink to them. There’s some light due to the tall streetlights in the parking lot, but you two are far enough at the edge of the beacon of one and the end of the parking lot so it leaves the truck in the glow of a light and not fully lit. His eyes glisten though as he watches you. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you huff, pressing at his shoulders. 

“Look at you like what?”

“Like you can’t help but love me.” 

“I do love you.”

It’s wrong to say what’s pressing at your teeth, do you love me enough for sacrifice. You know it given what Calum had just confessed. Maybe the two of you were still too young and too stubborn for the kind of love that required sacrifice. Perhaps it’s the kind of love that you had to mature into with each other. Calum wouldn’t have much to sacrifice, save for a few comments, a few sneers. You’d always have something to sacrifice. 

“What’s going on? You can talk to me,” Calum coaxes, hands moving from your hips to your cheeks, thumbs swiping right under your eyes. There are no tears. 

“It’s not a fair question,” you return. “It’s not the right time to ask it.”

“Will you ask it when it’s the right time?” Calum questions. It falls out quietly. You can hear it land into your lap, soft and fragile like the first snow. For a moment, you hope that this winter gives a fresh and deep dusting. The summer was warm and thick. You want winter to be cold. 

“If the right time comes up.”

“No, no not if, when. When it’s the right time to ask, you’ll ask, right?”

It’s a promise that will make you a liar. You know it. “Do you want to make me a liar?”

“Just this once,” Calum answers. 

“What if it’s never a fair question?” What if it’s just insecurity that you’re letting get the best of you?  

“This,” Calum returns, a hand waving between the two of your bodies. “This is not a glass house we’re building. It doesn’t always have to be a fair question. Just as long as it can be made into an honest conversation.”

A conversation--a much more fair objective. You bring your forehead to his--the beer’s a  faint ghost on his breath. All you can smell is Calum--the pomade in his hair, the cologne he sprayed on his throat and wrist that smells like expensive leather with a hint of sandalwood and something sweet like vanilla. You trace the veins in his neck, a steady thumping of his heart under your gentle press. 

“I’m not sure of many things in my life,” you start. “I never had the chance to live with certainty. I always keep that voice in the back of my head fed, that tells me you’ll grow bored. You’ll want someone with less baggage. You’ll need something more suited for the life you have. Because you’re a fucking Prince. I’m a fucking cook. It’s all I ever had--the cooking and a little bit of art to keep me going. But I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I like you. I love you too. But I wonder how far this can go. How far do you want to take it, you know? I don’t need announcements on social media or anything like that. I just--I keep the voice in the back of my head fed because what if all this leaves me.”

Calum’s lips are soft. His mouth sealing around yours in a kiss. His hands are warm on your face. The tears are hot on your cheek--yours this time. What if you lose it all? What if it all goes away? You cannot consume him. But you wish you could. 

“We never know what life’s going to bring, baby.” The silver bracelet Calum slipped on dazzles just a little in the glint of the faint light coming in through the car window. “I know I want to be with you. I know I want to wake up next to you. I want to take you on dates, even if it’s just picnics in the park. I want to show you off to my friends. I want to have a relationship with Teagan and Charlie too. I want to take you all out, have them crash some bumper cars, feed them too much fucking candy and make your parents hate me just a little because I always drop their two youngest off on a sugar high. I want to watch you paint and talk about our days together. I want,” he pauses. You watch his eyes flicker from your face to the space around the car. He’s searching. You don’t know for what though you do hope it’s the words.

You squeeze his face. “You want what?” You just want to hear the words: that Calum wants you. You know it’s true. You just need to hear it. 

He continues on. “I just want you,” Calum laughs, squeezing at your hips. “I want to adopt a dog with you. I miss my boy, Duke, so fucking much. He’s a hole in my heart but I know that I still have love to give. I know it’s not always going to be easy with me. I know it’s scary. But I don’t want these things with anyone else, baby. If I had the opportunity to beg life for anything, I’d beg for you; that you get to stay with me so that you can teach me things, so I can teach you things. You’ll have to stop feeding that voice. It’s a hungry bastard, but starve it.” His arms are trembling. The emotion rocks his voice. 

“Starve it,” he whispers. “I want you to starve that voice so that you can enjoy this too, so that you don’t keep waiting for the bad and start to enjoy the good thing in front of you. We’ll never know what life’s going to bring. I certainly didn’t think life would bring me you. And yet, it did. I’m so happy it did.”

It’s a rush, the surge in the centimeters between the two of you to seal Calum’s mouth in a kiss. I just want you. It’s terrifying to want. Here, especially with Calum. Wanting things didn’t mean you needed them. Wanting things didn’t mean you’d get them either. But you are lying if you say you don’t want Calun. You’re lying if you say you don’t want him to want you. And you’ve always known it. But knowing how far he was with Nora, a part of you just needs reassurance. 

Reassurance comes when Calum kisses back. It comes when he pants into your skin how much he waits for calls. It comes when he squeezes at your hips, rocks you over his pelvis. Reassurance comes when hands are deftly teasing skin under shirts. When you don’t waste time with either of you fully undressing, and you watch the fog creep up on the windows, you feel reassured. Reassurance comes when the gratitude Calum painted you in earlier turns into desire, when he tattoos into your skin I love you over and over with his lips and tongue. 

You need that reassurance like you need the graze of his teeth over your collar bone. Need the curl of his fingers into your flesh. You need the shuddered moans of your steady rhythm as your pelvis rocks up and down his. You need him. You crave him. You want him. You want Calum in every sense of phrase--you want to tell Calum about your day. You want to hear about his day. You want the dog too. You want Diana and Melvin to be pissed at the sight of you and Calum because they know there’s about to be too much sugar involved. You want to paint for Calum, want him to ask you about each color and each stroke. 

“I think you might be the death of me,” you whisper against his jaw. The tension in your stomach tightens as Calum bucks up against your clothed pelvis. You gasp at the feeling. You know the stretch of him, how well he treats you on his cock and tongue. His truck may not be the best place for it, but the thought crosses your mind to beg for it. That is until Calum responds to your statement. 

“No,” Calum groans, “No, I want you to live for me.” His hands slide up your back. The tug pulls you in with ease--your chest pressed into his. “Can you do that for me? Can you live for me?”

I want you to live for me. Another gasp leaves you. Body teetering on the edge of release but the shock pulls you far enough from the edge. You don’t want a glass house with Calum either. You want something real. Perhaps, you want something to live for too--needed it without really knowing you needed that kind of direction. 

You know you can’t live for Calum long-term. You’ll need something else eventually. But Calum’s the best start. You nod before Calum presses you down onto his bulge again. “I can.”

“Good,” he grins. “Now, c’mere.”

The rumble in his voice makes your stomach liquid. Your skin buzzes as you kiss him again. Your orgasm rockets through you as Calum’s tongue pants your mouth. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, body quaking with the fire of your desire consuming you. “That’s it, fuck, baby,” Calum whispers against your mouth, his voice tight. 

Calum won’t be far behind you. You let your hand graze over his nipple, up to his throat. The hold is featherlight. But it’s enough for his eyes to flutter for a moment. You grin. “Make a mess for me,” you command, pressing harder into Calum. 

They say fire only needs oxygen--it takes one gulp and then bursts into flames, an inferno of a single spark. Calum only needs the command, the light press of your fingers at the sides of his throat before his body goes rigid. His gasp falls choked before you pull yourself in close, swiping your tongue over his parted lips. The ghost of his breath, the huff of air as he comes down from his orgasm fans over your face. You revel in it, grinning as you listen to his raggedy breathing. 

Calum laughs, head falling into the rest. You curl into his chest though there’s dampness from your own orgasms and Calum’s creeping in through the denim. “All that’s missing now is the handprint on the window,” he teases. Calum’s fingers are gentle over your back, tracing the length of your spine. 

You reach out to touch the driver side window. “Done.” The scent of leather swells your nose, long after you’ve slipped back into the passenger seat. Calum’s cologne is signed onto the hairs in your nose. The dampness of your jeans turns into a coolness as it starts to dry. Calum’s hand is warm on your knee. I want you to live for me. Insecurity is a useless emotion, yet it still reared it’s ugly head. You were glad to hear Calum’s reassurance. But his demand that you live for him; that you starve the voice in your mind that keeps waiting for the bad, is dizzying. When your entire world has been set in hiding, never being heard or seen, it’s unsettling to have someone draw you out. Calum wants to draw you. He wants you to live in a life that you’d been content with. You hope the spotlight doesn’t burn you.