#I think I'm gonna do Florida like I want to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

Note

*calmly*

Bestie, I'm gonna need Logan to invite Alex and Lily over to Florida for a big Sargeant family Thanksgiving 🙊

Thanksgiving in the 305 || LS2 {3}

Pairing: Logan Sergeant x fem!reader Summary: You have lots to be thankful this holiday and get to share the special occasion with even more people this year. Warnings: 18+ only, implied smut, fluff, lots of fluff WC: 3.4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

Monday, 20th November 2023 You had just walked through hell and it had been an absolute nightmare. By hell, you meant Walmart during the week of Thanksgiving. With another point scored on home soil Logan’s popularity seemed to explode overnight and the shopping trip had taken longer than expected after he signed some autographs and took photos with fans. Shopping wasn’t something you enjoyed on the quietest of days but knowing the amount of food prep you needed to do only left you more stressed.

“Relax, honey,” Logan soothed as he rubbed your shoulders with a smile. “We can do this. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

You eventually made it to the checkout with two laden trolleys and Logan did all the heavy lifting of the bags into the back of his Range Rover. Unfortunately you lost more precious prep time to the traffic that swarmed the city and the stress had you wringing your hands together until Logan took one in his.

“Sweetheart, I think you might be going a little overboard.”

You looked up from the pastry you were rolling out to weave into a lattice topping for the pumpkin pie. “What? No. No, I’m not. This is perfectly acceptable.”

“There’s twice as much as last year,” Logan stated, his lips a shade of deep purple from the berries he had stolen.

“We have more guests this year - special guests too.”

Logan’s lips perked up as he laughed. “I’ll let Dalton know you think he’s not special.”

“That is not what I meant,” you gasped, only forgiving him for the joke when kissed you sweetly. “I’ve never seen your principal outside of the races, or Alex and Lily. I’m nervous.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about. They are exactly the same outside of work.”

You chewed your lip as you nodded, hoping he wasn’t just trying to ease your worry. If he was right then you knew you would get along with them just like you had when you went to the races with Logan. You had been lucky enough to make it to most of his races after the summer break and Sooty even joined for the Triple Header rounds, but he missed out on the Vegas trip. The schedule was just too busy to have a dog in tow.

Since everyone was on the same continent, for the moment, you had invited Logan’s team mate and his team principal to join you for an early Thanksgiving. James was bringing his wife and daughter while Alex was coming with his girlfriend Lily. They had all been so supportive of Logan throughout the year that you wanted to show your appreciation before making your way to the final race in Abu Dhabi.

It was going to be the first year since being with Logan that you wouldn’t be at home on Thanksgiving but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to slack on hosting the event. If anything you were going to make it more special to make up for having it on a Tuesday.

Logan knew one thing that would help you relax while you were busy in the kitchen and after disappearing into the living room you heard the stereo system click on and Logan’s playlist filled the room. The upbeat intro to Hold On, We’re Going Home started and Logan reached you before Drake’s voice could, his hands finding your hips as he rested his chin on your shoulder and watched you work the dough.

All too soon he grew bored of just watching and his lips started to tease kisses along your neck. “You need to go for a run,” you murmured as you found your progress slowing. “I can’t concentrate with you doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked innocently, the curve of his lips on your skin giving him away.

“Distracting me.”

“But it worked, look how relaxed you are now.” His arms curled around your waist as he swayed to the music and you joined him until his hand dipped beneath your shirt and warmed the soft skin on your stomach.

“Lo…” you groaned as you pushed him back with your hips. “Behave, please.”

“Cause you’re a good girl and you know it,” he teased in your ear with the song. “You act so different around me.”

You turned in his arms with a smile that he reflected and placed your palm over his chest. “You are going to ruin Thanksgiving dinner.”

Logan looked around the kitchen, every surface full of the food you just had to make final touches on in the morning. There was already more than enough to feed an army. “I don’t think you have to worry about dinner.” He reached behind you and placed a spare cover over the unfinished pie before pulling you flush against him. “And the pie can wait an hour.”

“An hour? I was thinking 10 minutes max,” you giggled as he grabbed your hips and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist naturally.

“Is that a challenge?” he dared as he carried you out of the kitchen. “I don’t mind spending the rest of the day proving you wrong, sweetheart.”

“Yes, wait, no, any other time, baby, but not today.”

Tuesday, 21st November 2023 - Thanksgiving Dinner You had never been happier that Logan had insisted on buying a house much larger than anything the two of you needed. Built for a large family, the kitchen had two full sized ovens and both were currently in use. The giant turkey filled one oven on its own and the other had its racks full of different dishes to keep them hot.

The other great thing about the home was that the stacker doors folded back in the living room to give a massive open space that flowed out into the patio and pool. You needed all that space with the guests that had arrived. Logan’s parents had come first. Mallika had insisted on arriving early so she could help you with the fresh food that couldn’t be pre-cooked and Michael had been ordered to help Logan stock the bar.

Next to arrive had been Dalton, Logan’s older brother, who came with a very happy Sooty after dog-sitting him while you were in Las Vegas. You had rushed out of the kitchen as soon as you heard his excited bark and grappled him into a tight cuddle before Logan wrapped his arms around you both.

“Hi, my baby,” you cooed as you scratched Sooty’s fur and kissed the top of his head. “Mommy missed you. You’re looking skinny, did uncle Dalt not feed you?” You rose to your feet at the laugh and greeted Dalton with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“I would say anytime but he stole an Angus steak from my plate, twice.”

“Why do you think I came out here?” you said with a shake of your head. “There is no way I am letting him anywhere near the kitchen. Lo?”

“On it, honey,” he chuckled. “Come on, Soot, let's go play frisbee. You in, bro?”

You watched the brothers jog out to the lawn and separate to opposite ends and it wasn’t long before Michael joined his sons too.

It was another two Sargeant boys that came through the door with Logan’s aunt following with apologies for her son's lack of manners for skipping the doorbell. You waved the apology away as you gave her a hug. “It’s fine, Debbie. My mother always said doorbells are for salesmen and strangers, not family.”

“Your mother is a good woman,” Harry said as he came in with a large bouquet of flowers for you and a kiss. “You are more and more like her every day.”

You grinned at the compliment and inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers. “Thank you.”

When you first met Harry you had felt intimidated by the billionaire but you had quickly realised he was a kind, down-to-earth man who put family values first. It was one of the reasons he sponsored Logan and helped get him into Formula racing. He believed if he had the resources to help, then he had the responsibility to help. It was the same with Dalton’s NASCAR career.

The next arrival did use the doorbell and Sooty came inside to growl at the uncommon sound until you told him to stop being silly. Once the door was opened he recognised it was Alex and Lily on the doorstep and the protective nature changed to the playful wag of his tail. Sooty enjoyed the attention he got from the animal-loving couple for a moment before another duo stole his attention and he leapt off the porch to race down the driveway.

“Sorry, he saw my parents,” you said as you invited them inside and to the bar. “Now, Logan’s the mixologist in the house so if you want something more than a beer, a wine or whiskey neat then he’s your man.”

Once Lily had a glass of riesling and Alex an IPA beer, you made the introductions to the few members of his family they hadn’t met. Most of them had crossed paths at least once during the three US based Grand Prix’s this season so it was only Harry’s teenage boys and your parents who needed naming.

“I found some wanderers in your driveway,” your mother joked as she stepped into your line of vision and waved at the quickly growing Vowles family. “Oscar looks different, more mature.”

You looked at Logan’s old teammate who was just walking through the door and chuckled when he took his shoes off, the only one that ever did when he went inside other people's homes. “That’s what a year will do to a man,” you replied. “I don’t think you’ve seen him since last Thanksgiving, mom.”

“Not true, I saw him at Logan’s birthday.”

“Oh, okay, my bad, it's only been 11 months then,” you said with a laugh as you went to greet him and Logan’s team principal.

“She is absolutely adorable,” you gushed over the newborn in James’ arms. “I swear she’s grown and I only saw her a few days ago!”

“She’s put on another ounce since then,” the proud father said before holding her out to you. “Go on, I know this is what you’re really after.”

“I was just coming over to see if you needed a drink,” you lied as you reached for her, “but I’m not going to turn down baby snuggles.”

Logan’s eyes found you from across the room where he was talking with Alex and Oscar and he lost track of the conversation at the sight of you. The image of you holding a baby so comfortably made something crack in his chest and he knew you would be a natural when it came to motherhood, he just had to be patient for a few more years. You didn’t even notice his lingering stare as you pressed your nose to her soft hair and inhaled the new baby scent before cradling her closer.

“You know you are not getting her back until you leave,” you warned James, and he just smiled knowingly.

“I had a feeling that would be the case. Now Rachel and I can enjoy a few hours of free babysitting.”

“Absolutely anytime, any place. Go on, have a drink and chill out, or even a nap if you need. There’s plenty of guest rooms down the hall and a nursery too so you have nothing to worry about.”

“A nursery? Is there something Logan hasn’t told me?” he asked curiously.

You laughed as you shook your head. “Not yet, James. The house was furnished for a family sale when we bought it and one of the rooms was set up to be a nursery. We just never renovated it.”

“You two look really happy,” Alex broke through Logan’s wandering thoughts and he blinked twice before he snapped out of the moment.

“We are. She loves this, having a full house, lots of noise and company.” Logan smiled into his bottle as he tipped the cold beer back and watched as you flitted around the room topping up drinks and chatting with his family all the while managing to cradle his boss's baby safely. “Best thing I did was ask her to come with me. Makes the good days better and the bad ones easier, you know?”

Alex nodded sincerely and cast his eyes to Lily who was laughing at something Dalton said to her about his latest round of golf. Alex knew exactly what Logan meant.

Logan had always been open about wanting children, even more so when he was drunk, and he was always making plans for the future. He hoped to stay in F1 for as long as possible and he was especially happy that he had signed with Williams for another year, but after that he thought about moving into endurance racing as it was a less intensive schedule. With less commitments to work he would have more time to focus on starting a family, so you waited patiently and supported him in his choices after all the hard work you had seen him put in.

You continued on your way around the guests, oblivious to the way Logan’s eyes followed you the entire time. Eventually you reluctantly passed the sleeping babe over to your boyfriend knowing he would want to have some time with her too and the next part you needed two hands for. “Dinner is almost ready, if you want to start rounding everyone up into the dining room I’ll bring in the turkey.”

“I can come and help, sweetheart,” he offered but his face softened at the cutie in his arms. Your chest warmed at the sight and you shook your head, not wanting to disturb the moment.

“Between my mom and yours, there’s hardly anything left to do.” You left him with Alex and Oscar, passing by Lily and Dalton’s discussion about the best US golf courses, and found Sooty so he could be put in his kennel. You weren’t keen on having a repeat of his first Christmas when he broke the table leg trying to get scraps and the whole thing had crashed down. It had been a disaster that took a while before you could see the funny side but it still didn’t mean you could handle it happening again. “Come on, as soon as dinner is over you can have your freedom back.”

Sooty whined as you left him behind and you didn’t dare look back or you wouldn’t have the heart to leave him there. The sound followed you until you were inside and the noise of the guests swallowed his lonely cries so you could focus on the meal shared between friends and family.

Logan knelt beside the kennel and caught Sooty’s collar as he unhooked the chain and praised him for being a good boy. Dinner had been another one to remember for a long time to come and everyone was more than full as they settled around the extra large sofa inside. Traditionally, after dinner everyone would be feeling the liquor and reminisce on what they were thankful for before watching the Miami Dolphins game on the tv but since it was only a Tuesday there weren't any big teams playing.

Logan had a better way to end the perfect afternoon anyway.

“Sooty, where’s mommy?” Logan asked as he buckled his collar back in place and kissed the top of his head. “Go find mommy, go on, good boy.”

The quick moving ball of fur caught your attention and you just saved your glass of wine from being knocked off the coffee table before Sooty bounded over Lily’s shoes and landed at your feet. He barked twice and sat back on his heels, waiting as if he had been ordered to obey and was expecting a treat - except you hadn’t called him.

“Sooty, how did you escape your…” your words trailed off as you held his collar and watched the light catch on a diamond ring. The room fell silent as you looked up in time to see Logan lower himself onto one knee in front of you.

His deft fingers unbuckled the collar and slipped the ring off so he could hold it delicately in his hand. “I don’t need Thanksgiving to reflect on everything I’m grateful for this year,” he said softly and your heart beat so loudly you were certain everyone in the quiet room could hear it. “Since I found you, I’m thankful every damn day, and I would love to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much, if you’ll let me. Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t remember when you last took a breath and your throat seemed to clog with emotion, choking the word you wanted to scream. Logan’s lips began to curve up into a proud smile when you nodded your head and lifted your trembling hand for him.

“Yes,” you finally managed to whisper, before the cold band slipped onto your ring finger and your vision blurred with unshed tears of joy.

You didn’t hear the cheer that erupted, you didn’t hear their congratulations. All you heard was Logan whispering he loved you against your lips before he claimed them for the first time as your fiance.

Logan hadn’t let go of your hand since he put the engagement ring on it but eventually he couldn’t keep you all to himself and draped an arm across the back of your seat instead.

“This is gorgeous!” Lily gasped after she leaned forward to inspect the large rock on the ring. You didn’t miss the pointed look she sent Alex and wondered how long it would be until he took the same step. “So how did you two meet if Logan was in Europe racing?”

Logan grinned as he traced his fingertips across your shoulder and over your collar. “Her mom was my uncle’s secretary and when I was home for the break I dropped by his office to visit him, and then I kept dropping in because I knew she was always in the staffroom doing her homework. Not that she ever looked my way.”

“I looked, when you weren’t,” you admitted as your cheeks heated. “But I had to keep my head down so I could actually concentrate on my assignments. He was very distracting to look at, still is.”

Oscar smiled to himself since he already knew the story well over the years of friendship and double dates.

Alex chuckled and mirrored your cosy state with Lily opposite you. “So did he finally ask you out or did you have to take charge?”

“Actually Harry set us up,” you said with a smile in the oil magnate’s direction where he was talking to his wife. “I didn’t have a licence and when my mom got sick Harry had Lo take me to visit her. He went out of his way to pick me up after school every day for like two months. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through that time without him.”

You turned your smile to Logan as he reached for his beer and took a long drink. If you were alone he would have whispered sweet affirmations in your ear about how strong you were and how he would always be there for you but with the present company and his ears turning pink he swallowed his words. But you still saw them in his proud smile and in his blue eyes.

“Okay, maybe I went a teensy, tiny, little bit overboard,” you admitted as you saw the leftovers filling the kitchen island after everyone had gone - the house was quiet once more.

You knew there was the temptation for Logan to say ‘I told you so’ but he just kissed your temple with a smile before he checked his watch and said. “I’ll get the containers.”

Although it was too late to go to Miami-Dade shelters tonight, it had become a tradition to take the leftovers around to them after a holiday. It would only go to waste with the two of you, especially since you were heading to Abu Dhabi in the morning.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” you asked when he returned from the garage with his arms full of takeaway containers.

“Once or twice,” he teased as he abandoned the containers to pull you into his arms, “but I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

“Good thing we’ve got the rest of our lives then.” You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked at the ring on your finger with fondness before staring into his ocean eyes. “I love you, Lo.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Always have, always will.”

Click here for the next part.

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fanfiction #logan sargeant imagine #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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mxstellatayte · 4 months ago

Text

fuck me up, florida.

warnings: angst for the majority of it, sex at the end though, legal use of alcohol (reader and logan are both 23,) mentions of gunshot wounds, minor character death, based on a taylor swift song, childhood (middle/high school) friends to lovers, idiots in love, "you came" "you called," reader is half mexican (mom's side), slightly inaccurate bc i know carola wasn't at the miami gp but just go with it for the plot, reader's last name is rodriguez,

author's note: y'all i apologize if any of the spanish grammar is a little weird. my spanish is rusty, pls don't hate me for it

logan sargeant x female reader

i need to forget so

tuesday, april 30th.

you scan your ticket, the screen displaying your name and seat number. 12A. at least it'll be easy to sleep, you think.

after shoving your suitcase above your seat, you shuffle your way to the window and buckle yourself in.

are you really doing this? flying a couple thousand miles to visit your childhood best friend who, up until recently, had you convinced that his newfound fame that he'd gathered by announcing his enrollment in the williams driver's academy made him too good for you.

the only thing that made you think otherwise was the instagram dm he'd sent you five weeks prior, asking if you'd be able to make it to the miami grand prix. instead of a simple yes or no, you responded with the heaviest three words you've ever seen in order.

can we call?

logan picked up on the second ring.

"hey."

"how's texas?"

you smile. "hot. sunny. flat. beachless."

"so... it's good?" you hate that you can still picture his facial expressions even after not seeing him for years except for on tv.

"'s okay, but it's not home, y'know?"

"definitely. it doesn't matter how much i decorate my place in england, it's never florida."

"nothing besides florida is ever florida," you sigh, looking out the window of your apartment. "how's the season been?" you don't exactly know why you're asking. you know exactly how his season's gone. you keep every single detail of every single race weekend meticulously catalogued in a journal that you take everywhere with you. no matter what, you've stayed up late or woken up early to watch every race, as if your hopeful energy would make its way across the world to him in time.

"honestly? it's been pretty shit. the car handles really badly and wasn't really even ready for the first few hours of testing in bahrain. i can't get it to perform and maybe that's just because i haven't linked with the car yet, but it still really sucks."

you sigh, hoping logan can't tell how disappointed you are with his team and engineers. "you need a better team, lo."

"i know." there's silence between you for a few moments, and every second that passes makes it grow heavier on your chest. "will you come to miami?"

there it is. the reason you called him.

"i don't know, lo. don't get me wrong, i'd love to, but it's really short notice and i don't know if i could afford the trip. i might be able to make it to austin, but i'll need the time to save the money for the trip."

"i'll fly you out," logan immediately says, his tone almost desperate. longing. "i'll pay for your flight, your hotel, everything. please?"

that last word hit you like a punch in the gut. you only had one more reason to not go and you weren't about to tell him that reason. it was a shitty excuse anyways.

you're not about to tell him that the reason you moved to texas was to give him the space he needed to be able to succeed in his career and for you to succeed in yours.

take me to florida

you're jolted awake by the force of the plane landing, if you can call the awkward limbo you were stuck in sleep. immediately, your stomach twists with anxiety. logan had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you refused.

"i'll just take an uber," you'd said. "i'm gonna want to relax a bit after the flight, y'know?"

his only trade-off? you met him for dinner. simple enough, right?

in theory.

now, standing in front of the full-length mirror in your hotel room, you debate between a floral sundress and a pair of denim shorts, a tank top, and a white button-up t-shirt with a colorful inkblot pattern.

you decide on the sundress.

fifteen minutes later, you're pushing earrings through your piercings, silver abstract shapes you'd bought on a trip to europe with your mother. you have to leave, but the situation you're in sucks. your hair won't sit right on your head, either being too frizzy from the humidity or losing any and all volume, and your makeup just doesn't seem like it'll last in the miami heat.

fuck it.

who are you dressing for, anyways?

logan's seen you at your absolute worst. he was the only one you let yourself cry in front of after your father died. he was the one that held you for what seemed like hours while you sobbed into his chest and he told you that none of it was your fault- that you never could have known that, when you hugged him before he left for the police station, told him you loved him, and slipped a note into his lunch box, the next time you would see him, he would be laying in a casket. he was the only one that could make you smile in the weeks following his funeral, dropping his entire schedule if you simply sent him a text that said "can you come over?"

the restaurant logan found isn't too far from your hotel, so you ultimately decide to walk. your walk is over before you're able to process that it even started and you're taking out your earbuds and putting them in your bag, taking out your phone instead to text logan.

i'm here.

i've got some regrets

were you always this breathtakingly beautiful?

logan's phone buzzes in his front pocket, but he knows it's you texting him. he doesn't even bother taking it out of his pocket before standing up from his seat at the bar and walking over to you, and when you see him, your smile almost makes his heart melt.

"hey," he says, and he hopes his voice doesn't waver from how nervous he is.

"hey. i missed you," you respond, dodging the hand he holds out and going in for a hug. "i've known you since middle school, logan, i'm not shaking your hand."

your arms around him and your body pressed against his almost makes logan short circuit. thankfully, he's able to regain control of his brain and hug you back, hopefully before you realize he isn't hugging you back.

when you pull back, the hug seeming way too brief for logan's preference, you're looking up and smiling with a sparkle in your eyes that makes him regret not making enough time for you. "thanks for bringing me out here."

"thanks for coming. do you want a drink?"

"sure. do you have a table yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"in that case, lead the way." you gesture towards the restaurant, and logan shows you to a booth in the corner. soon enough, a waiter comes over to you and sets down two glasses of water and two menus.

"welcome in, y'all. do we need a bit of time to look at the menu or do we know what we want to get started?" his southern drawl is thick, and it reminds you of texas. but you're in florida now.

"i think we'll look at the menu for a minute, thanks," logan says, and the waiter nods and walks away. as you open the menu and begin looking, logan points out something you might like and you do the same for him. conversation begins to flow freely between you, and it reminds you of the times in high school when you would go out with friends.

eventually, you decide on a plate of nachos and logan gets a plate of wings. as you wait for your food, you catch up on everything: your move to texas, logan's racing career, your work volunteering with the austin philharmonic, his homesickness from living in england, and everything in between. you crack stupid jokes, share bites of food, and steal sips of each other's drinks.

it's like old times.

i'll bury them in florida

on wednesday, you and logan drive up to visit your father's headstone. it's difficult. it's only the third time you've visited him since he was buried three years ago. the first time you visited him was a year after he died. even a year later, you still carried so much anger and hatred towards the doctors and nurses that were operating on him, trying desperately to save his life after two bullets hit him- one in his leg, one in his torso.

he died on the table.

the second time was just a few months after, and you were still wearing your cap, gown, and stole from your graduation ceremony. by then, you had been able to forgive the doctors and had graduated in the top 10% of your class. four years of hell had finally rewarded you with a degree in instrumental performance and an internship at the south florida symphony orchestra.

now, the third time, you have a picnic blanket and lunch packed into the backseat of logan's car, the windows are rolled down, and your favorite playlist is shuffled on the aux. it's a beautiful day, too; it isn't too hot (even with the humidity,) there's a gentle breeze in the air, and clouds occasionally cover the sun. when logan pulls into the parking lot of the cemetery and you sling your tote bag full of food over your shoulder, your hands start shaking.

of course, logan notices.

his hand slides into your own, and you look up at him. his eyes meet yours and you smile. "thank you for coming with me," you say.

"of course. i didn't want you to have to do this alone."

you look back at the gate into the cemetery, the black bars menacingly sleek and very, very terrifying. you chew your lower lip in anxiety. "i don't know if i can do it, logan."

"i'm here with you. i know you. you're strong. you aren't the kind of person to let a gate scare you." you laugh lightly, looking down at the ground. the gravel of the parking lot, your scuffed, beat-up high top purple converse, and logan's nike dunks make up what you have to describe as a perfect picture. your phone is in your free hand before you know it, and you're lining up the shot. "still into photography, huh?"

"yep. i have some cameras in my suitcase at the hotel." when you pocket your phone and look back up at him, logan's heart melts. the shine in your eyes and the passion in your smile is enough to soften anyone's heart, but for him, as someone who's known you for years and has been there for you through thick and thin, it touches him in such a special way. "i'm hoping to get some good photos of the races. but enough delaying. let's go visit my dad."

the creak of the gates opening makes your ears bleed, and you laugh at how logan is making the exact same face as you in reaction to such a shrill sound. despite only having visited his headstone twice before, you remember exactly where in the cemetery it is and are able to find it within five minutes.

"hi, dad," you begin, your voice already wavering just the slightest and tears beginning to well in your eyes. logan's hand squeezes yours, though, and you're reminded that he's right there. he always will be. you take a deep breath and continue. "i miss you. we all do. i know i haven't visited you in a while, and i'm sorry about that. i really do have to come stop by every now and then. i moved to austin and have a volunteering gig with the austin philharmonic at almost every show and i have a job at a company that helps students with learning disabilities learn instruments. it's really fun." you pause to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, your nose beginning to drip. "sam is in his junior year of college, and he's majoring in engineering. he flew the coop, but he still comes home for the summers. he, uh, he actually got in to c.u. boulder, like he always talked about. that kid was always thinking about college, even in middle school.

"i'm actually here with logan, too, if you hadn't noticed. do you, uh, do you want to fill him in on what's going on with you, or should i keep going?"

"whatever you prefer."

"okay, i'm going to keep talking, because i think if i don't, i'm going to completely break down. logan finally signed with williams to drive on their formula 1 team last year, like i always said he would. i'm really proud of him and really regret not telling him that more, and now that i'm saying it out loud i'm promising both you and him that i'll tell him that more often. the race this weekend is actually here, in florida. miami, specifically. it's always a celebrity shit show that no one really wants to see, but it's the main opportunity for the celebrity sponsors to actually go to a race.

"what else has been going on? oh, mom is still a therapist. i can't tell you much about that because of hipaa, but she always comes home saying that she's glad that she could help someone. i'm gonna have dinner with her tomorrow night, and then i'm going back into miami to watch logan's practice sessions."

you pause your rambling, thinking about what there is to say next, but your thought is interrupted by your stomach grumbling. loud. you and logan laugh just as loudly, the sound echoing through the grass field and stone gravesites. "oh, yeah, that's another thing. we brought lunch. i also got you pink tulips, because i know they're your favorite." you delicately rest the bouquet on your father's headstone as you sit down, then pull out the different plastic containers filled with food you'd stolen from the williams hospitality. "you'd be proud of me, dad. i smuggled this entire picnic out of the wiliams motorhome without a hiccup. robin hood style."

logan laughs, and you turn to him. he's mirrored your position, sitting cross-legged on the grass. "apple?"

"nah, i'm gonna start with my sandwich. i did grab you some of the salt and vinegar chips i know you like."

the look logan gives you can only be described as pure adoration. "you," he says, pointing a finger at you in an incredibly sassy manner, "are an absolute goddess."

"i know," you respond cheekily, tossing some hair over your shoulder.

the banter between the two of you continues through your picnic, laughter and smiles erasing the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks and on logan's. you're almost able to forget where you are.

tell me i'm despicable

almost two hours later, the two of you are laying in a nearby park underneath a tree, peacefully observing the clouds that pass overhead and talking even more about any topic that comes to your mind. the question that's been gnawing at you since your plane landed in miami eventually bubbles to the surface, and it tumbles past your lips before you can stop it.

"did you ever wonder why i moved to texas?" you look to your left where logan rests, but he keeps looking up at the sky. you mirror him.

"i always assumed it was just because you needed a change of scenery. after everything that happened and your music career taking off, it would make sense that you would relocate to somewhere better suited for you."

"that's the thing, though. if i'm being entirely honest with you, lo, i hate texas. i hate the whole state. i hate how hot it is all the time without even being humid, i hate not being able to go to the beach. i hate how dry it is. i hate how flat it is. i hate the monotony of it. i hate not being here."

logan hesitates for a moment before speaking, and it's the longest moment you've ever experienced. "why did you move to austin, then?"

when he looks over at you, you're chewing your lower lip. it's a nervous tic, logan's noticed. he's not even sure if you know you do it. "honestly? i thought you moved on from our friendship. i thought everything with f1 suddenly got so big and important and famous that maybe i wasn't... enough? i thought that being a police officer's daughter from the same town as you that was studying to teach people how to understand and play music maybe just wasn't cool enough to be friends with a world-renowned formula 1 driver."

logan's heart almost shatters when he hears the weakness in your voice. you sound so broken and so alone. he knew that, when you lost your father, you isolated yourself from a lot of people, even your best friend from high school and through your first year of college. he was the only person outside of your immediate family that you spent a decent amount of time with, but when he was admitted to the driver's academy he had to move to england. he abandoned you.

"i didn't. i never forgot about you. sometimes i still look through the photos we have together because i miss you that much."

you sit up, tears pricking your eyes for the second time that day. "really?"

"yeah. maybe once a week?"

when you look down at logan, you're suddenly starstruck. you can't help but notice all of his little features that you wouldn't see if you didn't know to look for them. his freckles that are so light you'd have to squint to see them if you didn't know them like the back of your hand. the mole on his chin that he'd always been self-conscious about but you've always seen it as beautiful. the lines from where his eyes crinkle when he smiles. the annoyingly perfect flop of his hair that he's styled almost the exact same way since you started high school together. an urge you haven't felt in years suddenly bubbles, white-hot in the pit of your stomach, and it's boiling over before you can stop it. your eyes are closed and your lips are on his. finally. after years of wanting, of stares that lasted just a bit too long to be just friendly, of flushed faces and nervous excuses, you're finally kissing him.

but he's not kissing you back.

you pull back immediately, panicked that you read something wrong. you turn away, hiding your face in your hands out of shame. "shit, logan, i'm so sorry. i thought-"

"kiss me again." logan sits up, and when you turn around, the look he's giving you can only be described as completely and entirely fucked. you don't question his statement, just lean forward, placing your lips on his, and letting yourself melt. he moans softly into the kiss, his right arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. when you pull away and open your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. he looks beautiful. his eyes remain closed, but when they flutter open, you see colors in them that you've never seen before. sure, you've always seen the darker rim of blue that outlines his irises, but now that you're so close to him, you can see the flecks of green and grey in them. it's the most stunning thing you've ever seen.

eventually, you break the silence between the two of you. "i've wanted to kiss you for so long," you whisper, so quiet you're not sure logan heard it.

but he did.

"me, too," he says, and after a beat of silence between you two, you both burst out laughing. the laugh he hears from you is the pure, bright laugh that logan's missed so dearly, the laugh that you only really let him hear. the laugh that has tears in your eyes and makes you snort because you're laughing so hard you can't even breathe properly.

eventually, when you're able to calm down, your head resting on logan's shoulder, your hand holding his, you're able to process what just happened. you just hope logan is processing it, too.

"we just kissed."

"yes. we did."

"how long have you held out on me?"

"since christmas of sophomore year. when you made me the chevron bracelet with my favorite colors."

you laugh, then lift your head to look at him. "i fell for you in october of that year. when you convinced your mom to drive two and a half hours for the marching band state finals. just so you could be there with me."

"god, we're idiots," logan laughs. you can't help but lean forward and press another kiss to his lips, lingering there and just breathing him in.

existing.

say it's unforgivable

the next two days fly by. thursday, you spend the day with your mother. she asks all sorts of questions as if she doesn't know the answers, and you answer each one with a smile on your face. when she asks about logan, you smile sheepishly. she figures out what the smile means.

"took you two long enough."

normally you'd still be in bed at 9:30 am on a friday, but today, you walk into the miami paddock clutching logan's hand for dear life. your neon green pass hangs from your neck, a white williams cap atop your head. you can't help but feel out of place, but someone calls logan's name and you both turn. your stomach drops when you see who's called his name. his hair is styled similarly to logan's, and he sports a papaya polo.

you'd know him anywhere. it's oscar piastri.

you're standing there a bit awkwardly as logan greets his friend, but your heart stops when oscar turns to you. "oscar, this is my girlfriend." he introduces you by your name to the mclaren driver and you wipe your hands on your denim shorts before shaking his hand firmly, exchanging "nice to meet you"s. the three of you chat for a few minutes before oscar is summoned by his pr manager.

"girlfriend, huh?" you look up at logan with a smile on your face, lacing his fingers with yours.

"i didn't mean to overstep, but i kind of assumed that's what this is now. is it?" he looks a bit nervous asking that, and if you thought your love for him couldn't grow any more, you thought wrong.

"that's absolutely what we are, lo. you're my boyfriend. i'm your girlfriend." you can tell just how hard logan's trying to not let the smile on his face show just how happy he is to hear you say that, and you stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips briefly. "you have a prep meeting to get to, don't you?"

"i do. come with me, though. i need to introduce you to alex and lily. she can show you around."

"sounds like a plan. i need to learn how to do all of..." you gesture around you, the white tents and media carts all seeming suddenly too intimidating. "...this."

logan laughs, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the williams hospitality. when you're next to him, though, despite the cameras around you and your proximity to some of the world's biggest stars, you feel safe and protected.

after meeting logan's teammate and the thai driver's girlfriend, who you quickly realize is one of the sweetest people you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, you're shown around the williams hospitality and, eventually, the paddock. lily introduces you to the other drivers' wives and girlfriends that have made it to the weekend, and when you hear a certain last name, your ears perk up.

"martinez? is she latina?"

"yeah," kika, pierre's girlfriend, says. "she's checo's wife. i'm pretty sure she's in the red bull hospitality right now, though."

"ah, speak of the devil," lily says. you see carola walking up to the five of you, alexandra ("please, honey, call me alex," she'd said, bringing you in for a kiss on your cheek,) having walked away to get a drink and escape into the sweet air conditioning. "carola, there's a new couple on the paddock."

"you're kidding," the latina answers, her accent apparent. "who?"

"logan found himself a girlfriend. allow me to introduce her." lily turns to you and introduces you by your full name, last name and all. it seems that carola has a similar reaction to your last name as you did to hers, and her head tilts to the side.

"ya no eres la única mexicana aquí," you say, and her eyebrows raise. (you aren't the only mexican here anymore.)

"hablas español, también?" (you speak spanish, too?) when you nod, her smile brightens. "hay, chica, creo que nosotras dos nos vamos a llevar muy bien." (oh, girl, i think we're going to get along very well.)

on saturday, you find yourself back in the williams motorhome, except this time, you wear a second badge, the neon green lanyard reading grid access in bold black lettering. like the day before, you clutch logan's hand for your own comfort until, much to your dismay, he's summoned for driver duties. you place a quick kiss on his cheek, and when you pull back, you aren't sure if the flush on his cheeks is from the affection or the miami heat. probably both.

"in case i don't see you before sprint. for luck."

"oh, you'll be in the garage. that's what this pass is for," logan says, holding your second badge in front of your face. "lily will show you where to go. i'll take a kiss anyways, though." you smile, stand on your toes, and kiss him, pulling back before he can wrap an arm around your waist. (that was a trick he very much enjoyed, as you'd learned the night before. there was something in him that needed you as close to him as possible, and it covered every nerve ending in your body in liquid fire.)

"off you go. you need to get race ready. i'll see you before you go out on the grid. don't worry." you gently shove him away with a smile, and you'd stare at him longer if your ankles weren't suddenly being attacked. you look down and squeal. "hi, leo! did your dad let you run free?" you squat down and scratch the mini daschund behind his disproportionally large ears, and he barks excitedly.

someone curses in french to your right, and you look up from the little golden ball of energy to see none other than charles leclerc frantically searching around. leo barks again, and the monégasque whips around, then locks eyes on you first, then his dog.

"merde, leo. you have too much energy for it being this early in the morning," he laughs as he walks over to you.

"i apologize, it appears i've unintentionally kidnapped your dog." you stand, and leo jumps at your calves again.

"ah, no harm, no foul," charles replies, picking up his dog and holding him close to his chest. "i will say, though, you look strangely familiar. have we met? my name is charles."

"we have not." you extend your hand and offer your name, and, when charles' eyebrows furrow and his head tilts in confusion, you realize that means nothing to him. "i'm logan's girlfriend."

"ah! yes, of course! he has a photo of the two of you at your high school graduation in his wallet. that's where i knew you from. well, it's nice to meet you!" that was news to you. logan has a picture of you in his wallet? either way, you just casually met one of the most famous people in the world like it was a standard tuesday.

if this is what i signed up for by being logan's girlfriend, then it is absolutely wild.

you're able to catch another good luck kiss with logan as he's almost fully suited up, and fuck, does he look good. his fireproof suit hangs low on his hips, the arms tied together in front of him. dark blue is a good color on him, and his facial hair is grown out in just the slightest. you can't lie, he looks hot as hell.

you cross your legs in an attempt to curb the heat that creeps down your tummy and between them. it doesn't work.

you amend it that night in logan's hotel room following his p10 in the sprint.

on sunday, you try to avoid thinking about the night before as you follow the same routine as the two days before- arriving early in the day, checking in at the williams motorhome, and then killing time until the driver's parade at 2:00 PM. you spend time with your new group of friends, spending the three remaining hours before the parade in the paddock club. rebecca, carlos' girlfriend, snickers at your shocked face when you see some of your idols and favorite celebrities casually walking around, gladly taking some photos for you as you're practically buzzing with excitement.

after the driver's parade, it's a whirlwind. you're swept back into the williams garage and find logan's driver's room relatively easily thanks to the help of some of the engineers and mechanics, but one of them stops you before you can venture too far into the depths of the hallways.

"could you tell him we have the pre-race strategy meeting in twenty minutes?"

"yeah, for sure." as you approach logan's door, you have to bite down on your lower lip to stifle the grin that wants to split your face. you knock on his door, and when he opens it, you know something's wrong. "lo, are you okay?" his eyes are red and his hand shakes on the doorknob. instead of a verbal response, he just opens the door a bit further to let you in, and, as soon as it shuts behind you, he sobs, and your heart shatters.

"i'm so scared. i'm so scared that something's going to happen and i'm going to let all of these people down and-" you gather him into your arms and he cries into the crook of your neck, your williams crewneck shirt now damp with his tears. you couldn't care less.

"you're going to do amazing, logie. i know you will." with your arms wrapped around him, it's almost like a weighted blanket of safety has encompassed him, and his sobs slow, his breaths growing deeper and more even. you continue murmuring words of confidence into his shoulder, and not a single word you say is empty.

"hey. look at me." you lean back and gently cup his cheek with your right palm, and when his eyes meet yours, you know that he needed to cry that one out. "do you feel a little bit better?" logan nods, tilting his head ever so slightly to kiss your palm, his own hand coming up to rest over yours. it's a cute, sappy, stupidly romantic moment that you from three weeks ago would've probably thought was the grossest thing known to mankind, but you can't help but bask in the moment. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better right now?" your voice is a soothing balm over logan's agitated nerves, and he slowly untangles himself from you and guides you over to the couch that's against the back wall, where he sits down and you curl up to his left side.

"can you just... talk? about anything?"

"are you seriously asking if me, the person with the most rampant adhd you've ever met, can talk about something? yes, logan, i absolutely can. what to talk about, though?"

as you talk, deciding to info dump about your favorite classical music piece, logan can't help but watch it unfold. he doesn't know jack shit about music theory, but listening to you ramble about something you're passionate about brings him so much peace. you're disturbed about fifteen minutes later by a knock at the door, promptly followed by a disembodied voice telling logan that it was time for the strategy meeting.

"aw, shit," he says, leaning his head back and rubbing at his eyes. "i have that to go to now."

"yeah, sorry. i was supposed to tell you about that but we had a bigger problem on our hands." your voice is sheepish now that your info dump has been cut short, but logan leans over to you and kisses you, soft and slow, just like the first time he kissed you properly in the park. when he pulls away, he looks so much calmer than he was twenty minutes before. "is there anything else i can do?"

"go have some fun in the paddock. and please drink some water." you roll your eyes and stand, bringing him in for another hug before you slip out of the door.

almost two hours later, you're back in the williams garage with a guest headset over your ears. your stomach twists with nerves as the national anthem concludes. lily's hand is clasped with yours.

"the first lap is the worst. after that, you lose a lot of the anxiety," she assures you, noticing how you chew your lower lip.

"thanks." you pause for a moment, contemplating another question. "does it ever get easier? seeing how they go out there and drive like absolute maniacs for fun?"

"it does. it took me a couple of months, but after alex showed me all of the safety features in the car and in his fireproofs, it definitely helped."

it's the moment you've been dreading.

one red light.

two.

three.

four.

five.

and then none.

the engines roar and the race has begun. lily didn't lie to you- the first lap is excruciatingly long, but when everyone's completed their first loop around the circuit, you let yourself breathe. your eyes are trained on the screen above you, and the laps are flying by so quickly that you barely process that the race is nearly halfway over.

but then logan's car is in the wall. fuck.

as you watch the replay of his crash, you can feel white-hot rage burning in your body. after the race stewards only declare a ten-second penalty and two super license points, though, you're fuming. "two penalty points and a ten-second penalty? magnussen caused logan's race to end, and they just let him go? they just forgive him and move on? how can he get away with that? this is bullshit!"

what a crash, what a rush

the first person logan looks for when he walks back into the williams garage, his visor still low over his eyes in shame, is you. when you see him walking towards the room where you and lily watch the race, you tear the headset off of your ears and run to him. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and hearing his heartbeat even through your musician's earplugs soothes your agitated nerves. he's okay. he's alive. he isn't hurt. "thank fuck you're okay," you say, even though he definitely can't hear you through his helmet and over the roar of passing engines. when you pull away, you press a kiss to his knuckles and hope he understands how much love you're trying to convey through such a small gesture.

fuck me up, florida!

one of logan's best friends on the grid is oscar. oscar's teammate got his maiden win after almost five years of waiting in miami.

like any sensible person, you celebrate with him.

you have no idea what the name of the club is, much less how many drinks you've had so far, but what you do know is that lando has commandeered the dj station and logan is pressed against your back, his hands resting on your hips. the air is hot and thick, your heartbeat pounds in your head. the opening notes of bad bunny's tití me preguntó begin playing through the massive speakers, and you shoot a glare up to lando that he doesn't see, his focus instead on the equipment in front of him. when the bass hits, though, you let all apprehensiveness go and your genetics take the reins. your hips sway and swing to the beat, your hands wander up and down your torso, and logan simply follows your lead. it takes you a moment to realize that, if you want to get a rise out of him, you're going to have to spin around and face him.

with your hips swaying against his and how unbearably beautiful you look in the dim light, your skin glowing with sweat and your hair up in a high ponytail, logan can't help but lean down and kiss you when you finally turn around. you reciprocate gladly, your right leg slotting between both of his, and...

oh.

he's hard.

you pull away slightly, barely an inch between your lips. "slow your roll there, tiger."

"i don't want to." fire zips down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and breathy and so, so desperate. "need to fuck you."

"should we get outta here, then?"

"i thought you'd never ask." you smile and kiss him quickly, then take his hand and weave your way through the crowded dance floor. as the miami night air hits your face, you immediately feel cooler. you sigh, taking a moment to breathe and regulate your heart rate and body temperature, but you can't breathe for that long before logan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him and kissing your neck. you laugh, running your hands along his forearms.

"logan, not here. the hotel is two blocks away."

"i can't help it, baby, you just look so pretty," he hums, kissing the back of your neck once more before pulling away and stepping around to face you. "you look so pretty, and you're mine."

his possessiveness of you makes more heat zip down your spine, and you almost drool at how he's looking at you. his eyes, normally a beautiful mix between the blues of the sky and sea, ar"e almost completely dark, only a small sliver of his irises remaining, and the muscles in his jaw tick. "hotel. now."

by the time you reach the door to logan's hotel room, you're both out of breath from how hard he kissed you in the elevator and the arousal and need between your legs won't be stopped unless he replaces it. you stumble through the door and try to kiss logan again, matching the vigor he showed you in the elevator, but he stops you. "wanna take my time with you tonight."

"yeah?" you raise an eyebrow and inspect his face. the blinds are open but no lights are on, so all you can see is the side of his face that's illuminated by the lights from the streets of miami. it's an unusually beautiful sight.

"yeah. nothing about what i'm about to do to you is going to be fast. i'm gonna make you feel good tonight. how's that sound?"

"that sounds amazing, logan." you lean forward and kiss him gently, your lips slotting together as if you were made for each other. who knows, maybe you were. the next five minutes are a blur, but before you know it, you're laying back against the pillows on logan's bed and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue working magic on your clit. the air in the hotel room is filled with your moans and the sounds of logan devouring you like a man starved, and it's the most beautiful mix of sounds you've ever heard. when he flicks his tongue oh-so-perfectly against your entrance, his nose brushing over your clit, you moan and pull his hair hard, which, in turn, makes him moan against you.

you aren't sure how much time passes or how many orgasms logan pulls from you with just his tongue and his fingers, but when you feel completely and entirely spent, your chest heaving and your hairline sparkling with tiny beads of sweat, you pull logan up to you by his shoulders, and he looks completely and entirely fucked. "need you inside of me," you mumble, wiping at the mix of spit and cum that coats the entire bottom half of his face with your thumbs. as if on instinct, you bring your hands to your mouth and lick them clean, and logan groans at the sight. "inside. now."

"as you wish, baby." logan's hands fumble at his boxers, the only item of clothing he was left wearing, and when he finally, finally pushes himself into you, you both moan. your hands scrabble at his shoulders and back, most definitely leaving red marks that will raise later, and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down and then gently kissing over the red spot.

"nngh, lo-" your brain is short circuiting, logan's cock filling you up so perfectly and absolutely ruining you for any other man ever.

"yeah? you okay, baby?" he pulls back from your neck and scans your face for any sign of discomfort of pain, his sky blue eyes searching your own. the feeling of safety you get from just that one action is almost enough to make you sob from how good you feel because of him, both physically and emotionally.

"feels so good, lo. j'st... move, please."

"you sure? i don't wanna hurt you."

"positive. now please." you reach a hand up and pull him down towards you by the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard. "fuck me properly." without wasting a second, logan reaches a hand down and hooks it under your left thigh, bringing your leg up to rest around his waist, then pulling back and thrusting back in fast. the moan that rips itself from your throat is sinful, and your breath is being punched from your lungs at the downright brutal pace logan's setting. your right leg finds itself locking around his waist, only bringing him infinitely closer, and now, each time he thrusts back into you, your clit bumps against his pelvis. within minutes, you're embarrassingly close to cumming again, and through your garbled mumbling and clawing at his shoulders, he understands, reaching his right hand down to gently press against your clit.

"cum for me, baby, please, need to feel you cum for me just one more time, just let go, i've got you." it's logan's voice that ultimately sends you pummelling over the edge into an orgasm that makes your back arch and your vision fuzz at the edges, and you cum with a cry of his name. his hips slow and his fingers maintain a steady rhythm on your clit, but you can tell it's taking its toll on him. "where- where do you want me to cum?"

"i'm on the pill, lo. inside, baby, please," you whine, and it takes two more thrusts before logan groans, his hips coming to a shuddering halt as he cums inside of you. it's a beautiful sight, too- his eyes scrunched closed and his eyebrows drawn together, his hair a complete mess from where your hands had pulled at it. your hands run through his hair and along his back, and you patiently wait as he comes back to earth.

"hi," he murmurs, opening his eyes and smiling down at you.

"hi," you respond.

no other words need to be said. you know you love him, and he knows he loves you.

and you're both okay with that.

this took me way longer to write than i thought it would, but i absolutely love it! reminder that my asks and requests are open, and i always get excited when i get feedback! take care of urselves lovies <3

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findmeinforks · 1 year ago

Text

Not Letting You Go Easy - Part 2

Hello friends!! So sorry this took so long. Let me know what you think :) 2.5K Words ❤️

You gasped as you woke, breathing heavy before squinting your eyes at the Florida sun.

It was just a nightmare. The sharp red eyes. The blood spilling. The agonizing clutch of a hand on your throat....just a nightmare.

You must have dozed off, the sound of the waves and thoughts of first meeting Paul putting you in a relaxing slumber. But there was nothing relaxing about what you dreamt up. As you adjusted to sit up, everything started to vanish in your mind. You tried hard to remember the details, but within a minute it was all gone.

Yet you couldn't shake the feeling of fear.

Leaning over to gaze inside the house, you made eye contact with Edward. The man always looked uneasy, but the expression on his face was...different. That's when it clicked.

He read your thoughts. He watched everything.

"Well good morning sleepy head, this weather is just too peaceful not to nap, isn't it?" Your mother beamed from the other side of you, making you turn your head.

"Yep. It's the best. I'm uhhh, gonna go grab a drink." You tried to sound as normal as possible, making a beeline for the door. As soon as the latch clicked in place on on the other side, you faced him.

"What did you see." You said, more so demanded. "I don't know what you're talking about." He swallowed, looking elsewhere now to avoid your hard stare.

"Come on Edward. I know just as much as Bella and I must say, I am more entitled to my own thoughts than you are." You crossed your arms. That made him crack a small smile. "You are more entitled than me, yes. It's just a nightmare. Bella used to have them when I left. They don't always mean something.." He tried to say nonchalantly.

For being alive for hundreds of years, you'd think he'd be better at lying.

You huffed. "I beg to differ. All this supernatural shit isn't just a fantasy anymore." He nodded in agreement. "It's unrealistic, I know. But I do think it was just a nightmare." You narrowed your eyes. "If myself or my sister were in danger, you'd tell us...right?" He hesitated. Pausing for a moment. "I will always protect you both and Charlie." You nodded, turning your back to head for the refrigerator. You weren't going to argue the fact that he didn't answer your question.

Whatever it was, you'd have to find answers from someone else.

- - -

Your back pressed against the kitchen counter as you were trapped in a strong embrace. Heat took over your body, Paul burying his face in your neck. His strong hands roamed every crevice of your body he could. He held you as if his grip loosening would have you slip away. You giggled when he peppered your face with kisses, inhaling your scent like he hadn't had oxygen in days.

"So how much did you miss me?" You teased as he moved his hands up to cup your face, kissing you with every ounce of passion he could muster. He rested his forehead on yours. "I could spend the rest of my life showing you." You could feel your cheeks turn bright red.

"GAGGG!" You jumped at Jared's loud introduction when he entered the house, making him and Quil who had followed snicker.

"Scare my girlfriend like that again Jared and I'll kick your ass." Paul said with a glare. Jared threw his hands up in defense with a mouth full of food.

You whipped your head to look at Paul again. "Girlfriend?"

It was Paul's turn to blush. While it was quite obvious that you two were together, and imprints, you were nervous to call him your boyfriend. The relationship was going what felt perfectly and you didn't want to screw up anything by labeling it too fast.

After all, he only imprinted on you two months ago, and had never been in a relationship before. Emily had told you in private that he would never even mention a girls name, because no one ever became more than a hook up. You also learned that he never believed he would find his imprint. He had a raging temper that apparently subsided a lot once he found you.

The pack, though teasing, was grateful for that.

You had become closer with Emily the past few weeks. Kim as well. They helped you understand imprinting, and navigating their crazy lifestyle. They were a good confidants, and you looked up to both like sisters. Bella was okay and all, but since finding Edward your relationship had grown distant. No hard feelings for that anymore, not when you had this second family.

Before either of the boys could make a comment at Paul's redden cheeks, Sam's loud voice boomed from the front door.

"Boys, I need you in the yard. We have something we need to discuss." Sam looked around, and held your gaze for what felt like longer than everyone else. You could feel Paul stiffen.

"I'll be right back baby," he quickly pecked your forehead before running after the others outside.

Emily and Kim watched them pass as they came in with groceries. They both smiled seeing you. "Boy are we glad you're back. Paul was getting a little too cranky," Kim laughed. You did too, helping them start to put everything away. It was silent for a few minutes before Kim said what you were already thinking.

"What was that all about with Sam? Sounded serious."

Both your eyes went to Emily who had a somber expression, different from her usual positive and bubbly attitude. She sighed.

"I don't know any specifics yet. I can sense when he's worried and, well, I just don't have a good feeling." She said.

"Do you think it's the red head that they've been after?" Kim offered, and you froze.

"I do. I'm just hoping they can actually work with the Cullens. The more help they have against her the better."

"What red head?"

Now both of them looked at you.

"Paul didn't....he didn't tell you?" Kim whispered, like it was now a secret.

"No. He did not. Please, someone enlighten me."

Kim and Emily shared a look.

Emily shrugged, "Someone has too," before you all made your way to the table.

Emily poured you coffee, and explained that Victoria was in the area. Immediately, you remembered she was part of the rogue trio that tried to hunt down your sister. You learned that she had been heading to your house every night, multiple times a week. The wolves and the Cullens have tried to hold her off, but she won't stop until she has revenge.

The more details you were told, the angrier you were.

That's what your dream was about. It wasn't just 'some nightmare'.

You expected Edward to keep things hush. You expected that if Bella knew, she'd probably keep it from you too. But Paul? Never. You told each other everything. You had even remembered making him promise to always be honest with you. With all the craziness you now knew about this world, you thought the least he would do is be open with you. Especially when it quite literally involved you. Keeping you in the dark when even the other girls knew was bullshit, and you were fuming.

Emily must have noticed the change in your behavior. "I'm so sorry he didn't tell you Y/N. But just know he probably did it to protect you."

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes in frustration. You hated crying in front of other people. Especially when you weren't sad, you were pissed.

"I appreciate it but trust is just a big thing for me. Jared told you. Sam told you. I mean, for god's sake my SISTER is the one this pyscho is after." You threw up your hands scoffing.

The girls both nodded their heads in agreement, Emily rubbed your arm.

"Im gonna head out. I really don't want to see him right now.."

Emily grabbed my elbow. "Now wait a minute. You're allowed to do what you want but please, don't stay at your house. I don't have a good feeling about it..."

"Okay. I'll call my sister."

Much to your relief, Alice saw everything that had happened in a vision, and it was actually Bella that called you first.

She told you that you were welcome to stay at the Cullens house for the night, and apologized for not telling you about the situation. You snorted when she said she had assumed Paul would fill you in.

What a joke that was.

You were half way to the house when your phone started erupting with the missed calls from Paul. It didn't stop. One call after another. A few texts in between. You didn't even read them, rolling your eyes and making the decision to just turn it off.

One thing Paul didn't know, was that when you're upset you just need space. You knew it wasn't a huge deal, but you were angry he didn't tell you. You felt like a child that everyone knew except for you. Like you couldn't handle it. You told yourself you just needed a good nights sleep and you'd call him in the morning.

Or so you thought.

You drove down the windy back road that led to the Cullen house. You've driven this road plenty of times, but goosebumps arose on your skin at the darkness. It wasn't until now that you realized you'd only ever come during the day, and there was little to nothing guiding you except the headlights of your car.

From afar you started to notice a small figure right in the middle of the road. It didn't seem to be moving so you slowed down, driving closer for a better look.

At first glance you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, but pulling up you were able to make out the deer that laid slain in the road. You sighed of relief, then cringed.

Really, they can't clean up after they eat?

There was no way to get around it on the tiny road, so you reached over to grab your phone and call Bella.

In no way were you getting out of your car in the middle of this spookville.

You managed to turn your phone on, and-

BANG!

The phone flew out of your hand as you covered your head.

What the HELL was that?

You took a minute to breathe, ears on high alert and eyes shut preparing for the worst.

It was silent.

So silent you could hear yourself breathe. You slowly uncovered your head, opening your eyes to look around. It was when you looked up that your stomach dropped.

The roof had a ginormous dent in it. Before you could process any sort of thought, your driver door was ripped from its hinges. You whipped your head to come face to face with....her. You didn't have to know what she looked like to know who it was.

You went open your mouth but nothing came out. You couldn't scream, couldn't talk, could not even move. You were paralyzed in your seat.

It was when you finally found some semblance of your voice that she grabbed your head, slamming it against the car, knocking you out cold.

Paul couldn't stop pacing. As soon as the call would go to voicemail, he'd hang up and call again.

How could he have been so stupid? The promise he made played over and over in his head.

'I'll always be honest with you.' 'We're in this together.'

He knew he should have told her once Jared and Sam filled their imprints in. But he didn't want to lose her. In a couple of months her world had turned upside down, and it was shocking enough that she stayed upon knowing who he was. What he could be. But then to have her immediately be a target of danger? He was too scared to see her reaction.

But this one was worse.

"Just relax dude, she'll get over it and call you back. She's not gonna answer if you keep blowing her up." Quil rolled his eyes as he went for a muffin.

Paul stopped mid pace, staring daggers at him.

"Shut the FUCK up, Quil."

Before he lunged or phased right there in the kitchen, Sam stormed in from the room with Jared right behind.

"What is going on?"

"Paul's going nuts because Y/N hasn't answered his calls." Embry said simply, Quil too afraid to say anything and get his ass kicked.

Emily got up to stand in the middle, "She was on her way to the Cullens house.."

Jared and Sam's eyes widened.

"WHY?!?" Sam barked, making Kim who sat at the table wince. Emily rested her hand on Kim's shoulder.

"She found out about Victoria. She was upset Paul didn't tell her and-"

" AND YOU LET HER GO ALONE? WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ANY OF US?" Sam's voice remained loud and angry.

Quil and Embry now shared a worried glance at Paul, who looked completely disheveled, breathing heavily.

"I-I don't know I just hadnt heard about her in the area in a couple of days and Bella is aware she's coming there so-" Emily's eyes started to well with tears and she realized how stupid it was to let Y/N leave on her own.

Sams ringtone cut the tension in a room.

"Hello?" Sams face froze. He looked at Paul.

"We'll be right there."

---

Here I go again making it a series 😅 Part 3 anyone?

#imagine #paul lahote #sam uley #twilight #bella swan #edward cullen #embry call #jacob black #new moon #quil ateara #paul lahote x reader #emily young #sam uley x reader #eclipse #breaking dawn #fanfic

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spade-riddles · 6 days ago

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taylorklosscomeout138 asked:

"The Prophecy (Track 10) + This Love (Track 11). 11/10 November 10?"

Did you... just say... 11/10????????? What if I told you I have had an ongoing theory for at least 4 months now that 11/10 is the date of the Taylor and Travis public breakup..........

There is literally so much evidence I have never been able to compile it all into one post, all my research is just sitting in my discord server I have to go through it.

I was literally just talking about how Exile played on 11/01 could be foreshadowing the break up on 11/10 because they are the same date just mirrored-

This theory of mine all started from Taylor's interview Nov 11th 2021 where she said "Can I hint at something 3 years in advance? Can I even plan things out that far? I think I'm gonna try to do it"

Because exactly 3 years since that day, is Nov 10th 2024.

We know Travis was already in the plans by then based on pre-existing evidence, especially the fact that Travis attended Karlie's house party in Miami Florida just 6 months after that interview on May 6th 2022.

But seriously when I tell you there is SO much evidence for 11/10 it's not even funny.

For instance the first time Taylor and Travis were truly confirmed "together" was when we got the pictures of them driving a getaway car down a DEAD END STREET.

Nov 11th 2021 was the same night Red TV released. "Loving him was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street"

We got the mashup of Red/Maroon "Him" to Her foreshadowing.

We got the same message again with Rep outfit change from red to golden on 10/18 Karlie's fake wedding anniversary, and that night she sung "I once believed love would be burning red, but it's GOLDEN."

And she was quite literally in the Kelvin Temperature DAYLIGHT dress tonight as she sung Maroon. (Search it up if you don't know)

Taylor has played Clean 1 week prior to BOTH of the last 2 public breakups in the timeline. From when she played Clean Oct 27th to when I am theorizing is the breakup Nov 10th is exactly a Fortnight apart.

This is just scratching the surface I can absoutely dig up the rest of my evidence if wanted but I just had to share this in light of seeing yet ANOTHER 11/10 reference. Let me know what you think!!

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wheels-of-despair · 4 months ago

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Evil Woman and Baby Bro vs. The Worst Summer Vacation Ever Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman and Baby Bro are off to see their old man in sunny Florida! Against their will. Armed only with well-concealed snacks and metal mix tapes and unacceptable attitudes. Send help. Contains: Lots of Gareth the Grump, a sucktastic step-family, sweet gifts from Eddie, pining, forced family fun time, a wicked sunburn, a daring escape, an emotional reunion, a hospital visit, a happy ending. Words: 6.7k

Your brother doesn't ask you for much.

Leave him alone. Grab him a soda. Stop being gross. (Well, that one's usually directed at Eddie, too.) But in general, he's pretty easy to get along with. You'd never actually tell him this, lest it go to his already big head, but you like him. Genuinely. He's a good baby brother.

So when he asked (begged) you to accompany him on a family vacation (court-ordered) to Florida (oh, the humidity!) with your father and step-mother and her two brats…

"He said please," you explain to Eddie. He sits on the opposite side of your couch, arms and legs crossed, glaring at you. (Yes, the thought of bringing him with you had crossed your mind, but your old man wouldn't even pretend to consider it. Even if you tried to pass him off as one of Gareth's friends and not the guy who does unspeakable things to you whenever you're left alone for ten minutes.)

"You're leaving me, the love of your life, alone for two whole weeks. To go to a place you don't want to go to, with people you hate…" his eyes somehow narrow more, "because Gareth said please."

You heave a sigh and lean your head back to stare at the ceiling. You've been through this. Yes, you're a legal adult and don't have to abide by government-enforced visitation requirements for children of divorce anymore. Yes, you hate your father and his replacement family and the traveling and the beach. But you love your brother. You don't want him to suffer alone.

"Alright, I guess I'll allow it."

You raise your head to see that his vicious glare has been betrayed by a twinkle in his eye and a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

You laugh and crawl to him. He opens his arms and stretches out his legs, and you lie on the couch together instead of staring at each other across an empty cushion.

"It's just two weeks," you remind him, nuzzling your cheek into his chest. "And it's the last time. If all goes well, I may never have to see the old man again."

Eddie sighs and holds you a little tighter.

"You're not gonna like… fall in love with some big buff surfer dude with a nice tan and decide not to come home, are you?"

You snort. "Baby, you know I like 'em scrawny and pale."

"How dare you, I am not… wait, do you think I'm scrawny?"

"Nah," you smile, sticking your hand under his shirt and rubbing the belly that's filled out beautifully since you started feeding him actual food. "You're perfect."

"You keep that in mind when Brad and Chad try to make their move," he mumbles into your hair.

"Oh, there's two of them?" you tease. "Are they twins? This… this might change things. Hang on, let me re-evaluate. Two big buff twin surfer dudes." You draw a 2 with your finger, just above his belly button. "One pale nerd." You draw a 1, slowly dragging your finger down his happy trail. He shudders. You glance at the clock.

"Y'know…" you begin, letting your fingers trace his zipper and the growing stiffness it's barely concealing. "We've got half an hour…"

Day One

"I'm gonna miss you so fucking much."

"I'll be back before you know it," you mumble into Eddie's chest. You didn't think it would hurt this much to leave him behind. But here you are, squeezing the life out of him like it's the very last time. Two weeks without him is going to feel like an eternity.

"It's time to goooo," your mom calls from the car. She and Gareth have been waiting with the windows down while you said goodbye to Eddie (again) but it would appear that her patience is beginning to wear thin.

"Gotta go," you sigh, pulling back and looking up at his gorgeous face one last time. "Will you be here when I get back?"

Eddie recites the landing time of your return flight and assures you that he will be here, in this driveway, waiting for you to get home.

"Love you," you whisper.

"Love you more," he counters, leaning in for one last kiss.

He walks you the few steps to the car and opens the back door for you. You get in. He closes it. You turn back to face him as the car pulls away; your eyes don't leave his until you turn the corner and your driveway disappears from sight.

You lean back and close your eyes, feeling empty and alone, while your mother and brother chat in the front seat. You can't believe you left him behind. Two whole Eddie-less weeks. You haven't gone more than a few days without seeing each other since you met.

You reach into your bag and pull out the mix tape he'd given you this morning. "If you come back here a pop fan, I'm going to be very upset with you," he'd teased. You stare at the paper insert he'd decorated for you, and then let your hand close around the box. You wish it were his hand instead.

The trip to the airport, the flight, and the landing were a bit of a blur. Your mother teared up as she said goodbye. The plane was cramped, and even the eardrum-blasting mix tape Eddie made you wasn't powerful enough to drown out the sound of multiple crying babies. Getting there was the easy part. The real adventure began when you and your brother got off the plane... and saw a taxi driver holding a cardboard sign with your names hastily scribbled in Sharpie.

"If you were to make two kids who didn't like you come to visit you in a place they didn't want to go to, don't you think you'd at least bother to show up and get them?" Gareth grumbles.

"Baby brother, you're looking at it all wrong. Would you rather spend this ride in a roomy cab with a total stranger, or crammed into a backseat with the evil step-siblings?" He answers with a smirk.

The cab ride took almost an hour, and passed in silence. After shooting each other odd looks meaning things like "are we going to get murdered?" or "at least there's no small talk" you stared out the windows and took in the scenery. Florida is not nearly as neon as Miami Vice would have you believe. You passed strip malls and houses and palm trees. Very exciting.

The driver pulls up to the curb in front of a rental house near the beach and exits the cab without turning off the engine. You take this as your cue to get out. He moves your bags from the trunk to the sidewalk while the pair of you stretch, then gets back into the car and drives away without a word.

"Guess he got paid up front," you muse, watching his taillights grow smaller.

"Great conversationalist, feel like we should've tipped him for that," Gareth grins.

"There they aaaare!" your step-monster squeals from the porch, making you both wince. "Come in, we've got so many fun things planned!"

"Kill me," Gareth grumbles under his breath.

The reunion goes about as expected. You're escorted into the kitchen for a lovely feast of weird organic hippie food that makes both of you queasy. (You've both stowed away plenty of snacks in your luggage.) You're grilled on each school subject and your nonexistent extracurriculars, and then forced to sit through a recap of everything your angelic step-siblings have accomplished since you'd seen them last. Honor roll! Perfect attendance! Soccer trophy! Scout badges!

You pick at your lunch and endure the bottomless bragging until you're escorted to your rooms.

"Girls are in here, and the boys are down the hall!" the step-monster chirps.

You both freeze.

"We always bunk together," you protest.

"You're not hiding out under headphones and listening to your Satanic music the whole time like you did over Christmas," your father chimes in. "This vacation is about family bonding."

"We're as bonded as we're gonna get," Gareth argues, crossing his arms boldly in defiance. You're letting him pick the movie and the snacks on your first movie night back home.

"If you're going to be difficult, I could just send you home."

"Is that an option?" you ask.

"Because we choose that," Gareth adds.

"Can't we all please just--" the step-monster begins.

"IN!" the old man roars.

You trade smirks and part ways.

You unpack your suitcase in the pink room with the two twin beds and listen to the step-sister (what is she, 9? 10?) yap excitedly about whatever random thoughts cross her mind until dinner. Which sucks even more than lunch did. After dinner, the whole family gets to clean up together and play a thrilling game of Monopoly! (Barf.)

You make the old man proud by volunteering to be the banker. It shows initiative! Perhaps a career in finance is in your future! Little did he know, it was so you could slip Gareth extra play money under the table. He owns almost the whole board by the end. The little ones are quite frustrated by all the rent they have to pay.

Tragically, Garethopoly is called before the broke little angels give in to the tantrums that had been brewing all night. At 8:30 (wow), you're instructed to put the game away and get ready for bed.

You put on pajamas chosen specifically for this occasion; boys' boxers and a stained Hellfire Club shirt. Your cellmate, looking like a proper princess in her frilly nightgown, eyes you warily. Good. You sit on your stupid pink bed, turn on the seashell lamp, and pull out one of the six paperbacks you brought along.

Your eyes won't focus on the words, but you pretend to read in hopes of being left alone. There are so many things you'd rather be doing, and places you'd rather be. You should be arguing over shitty horror movies at Family Video with Eddie right now. And getting a pizza.

God, it's only been one day of hippie food, and you're already fantasizing about pizza.

The step-sister shrieks when Gareth enters the pink nightmare of a room.

"No boys allowed!"

"Chill, kid, I'm just making a delivery," he rolls his eyes.

"My name is Ashley, and this is the girls' room!"

The attitude behind her declaration makes it the funniest thing you've heard all day. You disguise your laugh as a cough. Gareth ignores her and tosses a cassette to you. You pick it up curiously. When you notice Eddie's handwriting, your heart soars.

"Eddie told me to give that to you before bed," he sighs, then furrows his brow and launches into his best Eddie impression: "'Not at the airport, not when you get there. Right before bed. You hear me, little drummer boy?' Kay. I did it. Be sure to tell him that your tape was delivered at the appropriate time."

"Will do," you laugh. "Thank you."

"Yup," he says, cutting his eyes at the step-sister who's still glaring at him with her covers pulled up to her neck. For modesty. He rolls his eyes again and leaves.

"What's that?" she asks after he's out of sight.

"A tape."

"What's on it?"

"Probably a mix," you shrug.

"What kind of mix?"

You're spared further questioning by the step-monster coming in to tuck her little angel in. How sweet. You pop your headphones on and pretend to listen until the lights are out and the kid quiets down.

And then you press play.

"Gareth, if you're listening to this, I promise… you will regret it," Eddie rumbles, low and threatening. You've never been so happy to hear someone's voice in your life. That's your Eddie. It's like he's right here with you. You'd rather be there with him, but you'll take what you can get. "I'm warning you, man. This tape contains shit you absolutely cannot unhear. You will be scarred for life. This is your last chance. Rewind the tape, and pass it on like you were instructed to. Right before bed. Thank you for your cooperation."

You bring your hand to cover your mouth so laughter won't escape. He waits a beat, then changes his tone.

"Hey, baby," he says smoothly. Tears prickle at your eyes. "If you're missing me half as much as I'm missing you, you're probably hurtin' pretty bad. But it's okay. I'm here." Tears stream down your face and drip on your pillow. "Here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna ask you a question, and you're gonna pause the tape and think of an answer. And then you're gonna hit play again, and you're gonna laugh, because I've predicted exactly what you're going to say. You ready?" You nod. "You just nodded, didn't you?" You smile and nod again. "See, I know you better than you know yourself. Now… how was your day?"

You press pause. Shitty. The plane was crowded and the ride was bumpy. It's hot and muggy, and you're rooming with a kid you don't like, and you don't want to be here. You want to be there with him, cuddled up on his couch or in your basement or in the van. You want to go home. You press play.

"Wow, that sucks. Screw that Florida weather, and your dumb-ass step-family." You smile. "It's gonna take so much work to counteract this horrible vacation. We're gonna have to hole up in the trailer and eat nothing but junk food for a solid week to undo this. You in?"

Absolutely.

"Knew you would be. What do you think I'm doing right now?"

You press pause and think. Watching TV and/or jerking off. Play.

"Don't say jerking off, you pervert."

He didn't say he wasn't, he just said not to say it. He's jerking off.

"I am not!" He does that goofy little chuckle he does, and you wish you were close enough to feel it vibrate through you. "Okay, I might be. I'm lonely, dammit." You hear a paper shuffle. "As you might have guessed, I've tried to script these out and time it so I've got enough to keep you Eddie-fied until you get home. So it's not much, but I'm hoping it's enough to remind you that I'm here and I miss you and I'm NOT JERKING OFF while I wait for you to come home. Well, not the whole time, anyway. That's about it for tonight, but uh… I'm gonna end every night with a song. To lull you to sleep. Because that's the kind of music we're into, obviously."

You close your eyes and hug your walkman to your chest, wishing it were him instead.

"This first one needs no introduction, so!" He clears his throat and starts singing… to the tune of Black Sabbath's "Evil Woman". "I miss that look of evil in your eyes, that thing about not jerking off was a lie, sorrow will be me until you're here, not sure what Ozzy's saying there… Evil Woman, please come play your games with me!"

Eddie stops singing and starts laughing. "Okay, that's it, you've been sung to sleep, now please do wicked and kinky to things to me in our dreams." He laughs again. "Turn the tape off after the 'love you', because you're not allowed to listen to tomorrow's until tomorrow. Kay? Kay. Good night, my Evil Woman. I hope your tomorrow sucks less than today. I love you. Press stop. Now. Now! Now? Now!"

You wait a beat and press stop, leaving the headphones on. What if you're not ready to say goodbye? Even for 24 hours?

Day Two

"Hey, baby." You press pause and let the feeling of calmness wash over you. You've been looking forward to hearing his voice all day. Play. "How was day two? You didn't forget about me already, did you? Is Gareth keeping those pretty surfer boys away from you like I asked? Tell me everything."

Pause. Today sucked. At least most of the first day was spent traveling with someone you like. Why did the old man even want you here if he was just going to be a dick to you both the whole time? Those brats were up your ass every second, asking too many questions and watching your every move with their beady little eyes. They went through your bags when you and Gareth hid out on the balcony for a moment of fucking peace and turned your contraband in to the authorities. All your food. Even your friggin' aspirin. You'd both received a long-ass lecture on chemicals and toxins and personal responsibility and how unhealthy habits shorten your lifespan. Which didn't sound too bad right fucking now. You were hungry. You couldn't sleep. Those fuckers dragged you out of bed at 6am, and for what? "Early to bed and early to rise, makes a family healthy, wealthy, and wise!" Psychos. Absolute psychos.

Play. "Wow, baby. That fucking sucks. Want me to come get you? 'Cause I'll do it. I'll hop in this van and speed my ass down to… where are you again? Doesn't matter, I'll find you."

Your chest aches.

"Ready to be lulled to sleep by the comforting voice of your handsome lover?" Always. "Alright, here goes." He clears his throat. "Your body's empty now as I hold you… wait, that's a pillow. Now you're gone, I miss you, but I told you, I remember bath times and morning wood, you best come back to me, without you I'm no good. I love you to death! I love you to death!"

Megadeth's "Loved to Deth," only better. Eddie laughs to himself when he finishes. "G'night, babe. Hope tomorrow's a better one. Love you."

Stop. You've never felt more lonely in your life. Taking off your headphones and glancing over to confirm that the step-brat is asleep, you get out of bed as quietly as you can. You need air.

You walk down the hallway toward the balcony, and aren't too surprised to find Gareth already there, on the wicker sofa staring out at the ocean. You sit next to him.

"I wanna go home," he mumbles.

"Me too," you whisper.

"How are we supposed to survive 12 more days of this?"

"By not letting them get to us. Just remember… we get to go home soon, and be happy, with people we like. These assholes will continue to be assholes, wherever they are."

Gareth heaves a sigh. You'd hug him if you didn't think he'd pretend to gag.

"I don't wanna go back in there. That kid's fucking creepy. I woke up this morning and he was just laying there, staring at me."

"Oh my god, the girl was doing that too!" you whisper in outrage. "What is wrong with them?!"

"Fuckin' Children of the Corn," he grumbles. You snort.

"Well… we probably won't get away with it for more than one night, but we could stay out here until the warden drags us back inside," you suggest.

"Fine by me," Gareth groans, scooting down on the cushion and putting his feet on the coffee table. "Is this improper?" he asks in a bad British accent.

"Nah, we were raised in a barn, it's fine," you grin, moving to do the same. You knew you'd both catch hell for not sleeping in your assigned cells in the morning, but for tonight, you'd take fresh air and Gareth over a creepy kid and a hard twin bed.

Day Three

"Hey, baby. Congrats on surviving three days without me! Your prize is coming home ASAP for some sweet lovin'." Eddie laughs at himself. "How was your day?"

Pause. Fucking sucked. You woke up to yelling about not being in your beds for your 6am wakeup call. You ate a bland breakfast and were dragged to the beach for a family photo op. Staged photos of all the loving siblings bonding. Building a sand castle… that your father actually built, because it needed to be impressive and photo-worthy. You all had to gather around it and smile and pretend to be working on it while the step-monster snapped away. Eating healthy snacks on an ironed picnic blanket. Playing in the ocean… where the playful splashes from the step-brats got so much saltwater in your face, your eyes were too red for more photos. You looked like drug addicts! It was disgraceful! Family fun time would have to continue tomorrow.

After that, you huddled under an umbrella until time to go inside. You and Gareth had applied sunscreen multiple times throughout the day, but still got a bit of a burn. This trip is un-fucking-bearable. You'd give anything to be in your dark basement with Eddie, far away from these douchebags and the burning Florida sun. Play.

"Fuuuuuck," he sighs. "I thought you were exaggerating when you told me how much these people sucked. No wonder you'd rather be at home with me." You'd do anything to trade this hell for sixty seconds of being home with your Eddie. "Ready for your song?" You nod. "People gonna make ya wonder if you're right, keep ya wide awake and worried late at night. Why don't ya tell 'em to beat it? Why don't ya tell 'em to eat it? Just a bunch of clowns, don't let 'em grind ya down!"

Motorhead's "Grind You Down."

"I know I didn't change anything in this one, but I don't think I needed to. I hope this song gets stuck in your head for the rest of the trip. Keep it playing. Don't let 'em grind ya down. That's it for tonight, babe. Hope tomorrow's better. Love ya."

Stop. You stare at the ceiling and grasp a handful of blanket, wishing it were Eddie's hand. You imagine hearing the roar of his van in the street and sneaking out and running away from here until you eventually nod off.

Day Four

"Hey, baby. How was day four?"

Pause. You couldn't find your sunscreen this morning. You'd torn the house apart, desperate for that high SPF you'd bought especially for this trip, and the step-brats finally found the bottle on the porch. Maybe you dropped it in your hurry to get back inside yesterday, you thought. You slathered it on as fast as you could, during a lecture about holding everyone up, and returned to the beach.

They kept you so busy staging bullshit for the camera, you didn't notice the problem until it was too late.

It was not your sunscreen. The step-brats had dumped your sunscreen out and refilled the bottle with lotion for a fun prank. The giggly little bastards finally confessed after your third re-application of the day. You and your brother were already burnt to a fucking crisp. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. The demon children were given a finger-wag and forced to skip dessert. (Cantaloupe, what a cruel blow.) You and Gareth were told to stop being so dramatic about a little sunburn. It was a harmless prank, they said. This is what siblings do, they said. Nevermind the chills and the headache and the unbearable fucking pain. It's just a harmless prank! Play.

"Those bastards. Do you want me to come down there and fight them? 'Cause I will. You know I will." Yes, please.

"Okay, this one's extremely rewritten to make up for yesterday's. Sorry-slash-you're welcome. Here we go: "Evil Woman, you've been down too long in the Florida sun, and I am having no fun."" Tears prick at your eyes. He's rewritten Dio's "Holy Diver" for you. "Ride the dolphin, see the sand and the sea, hope you'll think of me. Oh, I am so lonely." He laughs, but the tears spill down your burning cheeks. "Not bad, right? Watch your back, Weird Al. Weirder Ed's coming for you. Well, that's it for tonight… talk to you tomorrow, okay? Love you."

You rewind and replay the song. It's one of his absolute favorites. The fact that he rewrote a perfect song just for you makes you melt. Or maybe that's just your insides reacting to your outsides being fried.

"Evil Woman, you've been down too long in the Florida sun, and I am having no fun. Ride the dolphin, see the sand and the sea, hope you'll think of me. Oh, I am so lonely."

Gotta get away. The next line would be "gotta get away".

You lie there on your hot, scratchy sheets and think about escaping in order to get your mind off of the pain. What if you… and then you… could you actually pull this off?

When you're sure everyone's asleep, you get out of bed as quietly as you can and creep down the hallway to the boys' room. Gareth's not in his bed. He's not on the balcony. You stalk quietly through the house, no idea where he might be in this strange place.

He's standing in front of the fridge with the door open.

"You okay?" you whisper.

He jumps back and gasps. The bottles in the door rattle. He closes it softly, but you both look in the direction of the bedrooms and listen closely for stirring. You relax when you hear nothing.

"Scare the shit out of me, why don't you," he grumbles, leaning against the cool metal of the fridge. "No. Not okay. I'm hungry. I hurt. Everything fucking sucks. I wanna go home."

Your brother's not much of a crier these days, but his eyes look suspiciously shiny in the moonlight shining through the windows. It fills you with rage.

"Let's go."

"What?" he asks.

"Let's fucking go."

You stare at each other for a moment.

"You're serious?"

"Dead fucking serious. We don't want to be here. That dickhead only wanted us here for a photo op, so he can show everyone what a great parent he is. They're not just gonna let us sit here for the rest of the trip. Wherever they go, they're gonna drag us along too. Burns and all. So let's fucking go."

"Let's fucking go," Gareth echoes, pushing off the fridge.

"Pack your shit, I'll meet you back here in ten," you say quietly.

"More like three," Gareth smirks. "I never unpacked my shit to begin with."

You grin at each other, even though it hurts your fried faces, and take off toward your bedrooms.

You're packed in no time. You make a quick stop in your dad's bedroom, holding your breath while you extract a credit card and a few bills from his wallet. He snores away, rigid and on his back like he learned how to sleep from a textbook on how to mimic a human. The step-monster sleeps like a corpse, hands clasped on her stomach and mask covering her eyes. They're not even touching. You and Eddie could never.

You slip out of the room and find Gareth waiting for you in the kitchen.

"Ready?"

"Born ready."

You step out the front door and let it close with a satisfying click. Adios, bitchachos.

"Now what?" he asks.

You stare at the dark, empty street.

"Guess we walk," you grin.

"All the way back to Indiana?"

"To a bus stop or a cab that will take us to an airport, smartass." If you weren't both in pain already, you'd smack him. He smirks, and you start walking.

The further away from those people you get, the better you feel. When you get to the highway, a cab pulls over. You didn't even hail it. It's like it was meant to be. A woman in her fifties, named Linda, takes you to the nearest airport… which is fifteen minutes away from the rental house.

"Why did he have us hauled halfway across Florida in a cab when we got here, if there was an airport right here?" Gareth asks when it comes into view.

"This one's more expensive," Linda supplies. "I can take you to that one, if you'd prefer? Might save you a few bucks."

"That's okay," you smile. "We need to get home as soon as possible. Our father can spare it."

You thank her for the ride and give her a hefty tip that makes her face light up.

"You kids have a safe trip! And put some aloe on that sunburn!" she calls out her window as you enter the airport.

You approach the desk and talk to a pretty blonde about the first flight to the Midwest. You slide the credit card across the counter and secure two tickets to Chicago on a plane that leaves in an hour.

Day Five

"Did we actually pull this off?" Gareth mumbles, gazing lovingly at the ticket in his hand.

"Hope so," you mumble, taking it from him and putting it in your pocket for safekeeping. Little brothers, no matter their age, are not to be trusted. "Let's find the gate, then find something to eat."

"Hell yeah."

You walk for a while, and stop when the gate comes into view. You don't need to walk all the way down there just yet.

"That's us," you mumble, gesturing toward the gate in the distance. "By the time we eat, it'll probably be time to board. Let's roll."

You look to Gareth, but he's not looking at you. He's looking at the McDonald's sign. The golden arches shine like a light at the end of a miserable tunnel leading out of organic hell.

"Good choice, Gareth the Great," you smile. "Know what you want?"

"Everything," he practically drools.

You don't quite order everything, but the two of you devour a tray full of fast food - at airport prices, on the old man - like you've been starving for days. Which you have.

"Fifteen minutes until boarding begins," you note, sucking down the last of your drink and looking at your watch. "Let's hit the bathroom and call Mom."

You dump your trash and find the bathroom. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror and recoil. The burn looks so much worse under these fluorescent lights. No wonder you both scored free refills. You're going to peel for the rest of your life. If you ever see those brats again, it's ON.

You meet Gareth at the pay phones and drop a few coins in. But your mom's line is busy. You try again a minute later. Still busy. The clock is ticking. You call Eddie instead.

"Hawkins Morgue, you stab 'em, we slab 'em," he says boredly.

"Hi, baby," you breathe, so relieved to hear him live.

"Well this is unexpected," he laughs. "Tapes not doing it for you anymore? Needed some of the real thing?"

You smile, but Gareth's impatient face reminds you why you're making the call.

"We're on the run, babe, and we need your help."

"The Munson Underground is always at your service, m'lady."

"I tried calling Mom, but the phone was busy. Can you tell her that we're on the 1:05 out of Tampa, and we should be in Chicago at… wait, does that account for the time difference?"

"You're seriously making a break for it?"

"Yeah," you whisper, the reality of what you're doing starting to sink in. "We couldn't take it anymore. It was awful, Eddie."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, and Gareth takes the phone before you can start crying on it.

"She'll be alright once she gets home. Which should be sometime in the next few hours. Will you hunt down our mother and tell her to pick us up?" He tells Eddie to get a pen, then relays the details of the ticket. "Kay. Here's your wife." He hands the phone back to you.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" he says, voice calm and soothing.

"Okay," your voice cracks. "Love you."

"Love you more," he says. "Gotta go, I'm gonna go tell your mom in person since you can't get through. See you in a few hours!"

You hang up the phone and take a shaky breath.

"Ready?" Gareth asks.

"In a minute," you mumble, checking your watch again. You approach the information desk and ask for an envelope. You put your father's name on it, put his credit card and change from the cab ride and dinner in it, and seal it. The woman at the counter assures you that it will be held in the office for your father. You'll call and tell him where to get it when you're safely back home, where you belong. (Or maybe send him a nice postcard.)

You board the plane wordlessly, sinking into your seats with a renewed sense of urgency. You're not out of the woods until you're in the air. You watch the people filing on, wondering if your old man would be smart enough to figure out where you went. Or if he cared enough to show up and drag you off.

You breathe a sigh of relief when the plane takes off, and so does Gareth. You're in the sky. You're on the way home. Everything is going to be okay.

"We're free," you mouth.

"Fuck yeah," he mouths back.

You grin at each other and reach for your walkmans. Should you listen to the rest of Eddie's goodnight songs, or save those? You'll save them. One a night, those are the rules. You pop in the mix tape he made you and close your eyes.

You don't open them again until you land. Your head is pounding. Your mouth is dry. The chills are getting worse. Your skin feels like it's going to crack if you move too much. Gareth feels it too, wincing and hissing as he gets out of his seat.

You gather your things and exit the plane with the rest. The blast of cold air conditioning feels nice on your hot skin as you step into the massive airport.

"Look," Gareth nudges you. You both regret it instantly, but you look in the direction he gestures to see your mom and your Eddie waiting for you. You quicken your pace.

"Holy shit," they say in unison as you approach.

You walk into Eddie, and his arms wrap around you. He's so warm, your body tells you to get away from him. Heat bad! Cold good! But you endure the discomfort, holding him tight and crying into his chest. You made it. You're home.

"Let me look at you," your mom orders, peeling you away from Eddie. "What the hell happened? Did you forget your sunscreen?"

Tears leak down your face, stinging as they go.

"Those little assholes dumped our sunscreen and replaced it with lotion," Gareth growls. "It's just a harmless prank, you're overreacting," he mocks in his best Dad Voice.

"Like hell," your mom seethes. "You're going to the ER." Gareth whines, but you expect this will be a nice documented event to bring up in court if the old man still insists on visitation after this debacle. You both agree to drink a full bottle of overpriced airport water in the car, in exchange for going to the hospital in Hawkins rather than the city. You want to go home, dammit.

Your luggage is collected, and you head out to the car. You and Eddie sit in the back, and you want desperately to lay your head on his shoulder and sleep the whole way home. But it's too hot. Your face hurts too bad. You settle on holding his hand loosely; your palm didn't get burned, at least. He uncaps your bottle every few minutes and reminds you to take a drink.

The visit to Hawkins Memorial Hospital doesn't take long. The nurse makes you both chug another bottle of water while you wait, and the doctor quickly diagnoses you with sun poisoning. You are sentenced to several weeks of aloe, rest, and staying indoors. No one in your party has any objections.

When you finally get home, Eddie helps you get your clothes off while your mom helps your brother. It's ten times harder and more painful than usual. He coats you with aloe and puts you to bed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt. Your sheets scratch. Your skin burns. You can't stop crying.

"What's the matter?" he asks, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"It's stupid," you cry.

"Tell me anyway."

"All I want is for you to hold me but you're too hot and I'm a lobster and I'm going to crack and peel and die."

Eddie snorts, and you cry harder. He lies down in your bed, on the edge so he's not touching you. All you've thought about for days is in your grasp, and you can't touch him. It's cruel and unusual and it's not fair.

"I'm right here. The burn will fade in a week or two. Then we can get back to being all over each other and grossing everyone out, and all will be right with the world."

You let out a strange sob-laugh sound, and it makes him smile. A chill causes your whole body to shiver.

"How are we doing in here?" your mom asks from the doorway.

"Fine," you lie.

"She's crying and shivering," Eddie tells her.

"Traitor," you mumble.

"I brought painkillers and a glass of water," your mom says. Eddie sits up to receive her gifts. "Don't let her sleep until she drains that."

"Yes, ma'am."

You sit up long enough to take your pills and drink your water, then fall asleep next to the Eddie you can't touch.

You wake to the unmistakable sound of your mother giving her ex-husband a piece of her mind. Eddie's eyes are as round as saucers while you listen together; you've never heard her this mad before. There are curses, there are threats, and finally, the sound of a phone being slammed back onto the base. The house is plunged back into a heavy silence. You stare at each other for a moment, not daring to make a sound.

"If she ever yells at me like that, I'm gonna be crying and apologizing and trying to make it up to her for the rest of my life," he whispers.

"I've never heard her yell at anyone but him like that," you smile. "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Thank fuck," he breathes.

"You guys awake?"

You and Eddie both jump at her soft voice in the doorway.

"I'll take that as a yes," she chuckles. "You're due for another pill and about a gallon of water. Would you like some pancakes with it? You slept through breakfast. And lunch."

"Sure," you answer, stretching and immediately regretting it.

"A fresh coat of aloe will make it easier to move," she advises.

"On it," Eddie says, rolling out of bed to get it.

"I'm gonna go see if Gareth managed to sleep through that, then I can fill my little fugitives in on all the trouble they've caused." She laughs to herself and proceeds down the hallway.

She recapped the phone call over pancakes. Your father got his credit card back… and a bill so massive, Gareth's likely off the hook for any remaining court-ordered visits. The old man ranted about you two ruining his family vacation, and hurting the step-monster's feelings, and ignoring the step-demons, and being surly and secretive the whole time, and stealing from him, and of course the cost of the plane tickets… but somehow, the icing on the cake was that you'd left the McDonald's receipt in the envelope with his change. "How could anyone spend that much money on garbage masquerading as food?!" You all had a good laugh over that one, then went back to bed. Doctor's orders.

For the next two weeks, you happily holed up in your dark basement with your brother and your boyfriend and sometimes your friends, watching movies and eating junk and drinking all the water you could hold. You still insisted on listening to your Eddie Tape every night, but with him next to you, your answers to the "how was your day" questions were much happier. After about a week, you declared yourself cleared for cuddling, and started to make up for lost time.

Gareth was so happy to be home, he didn't even complain.

Much.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x evil woman #whyyy yess i did write a self-indulgent almost-7k-sidequest with an annoying family i made up #those of you who watch the timeline will notice that this is the summer of '85 #aka the summer things start getting kinky #'cause evil woman has a lot of eddie deprivation to make up for

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