#I want a big round table in the middle of the living space that’s what the middle pic is meant to represent

[rowanhoney]

Thank you 💗🫶💘🫶💗

Tagged by @clementineoil for a new pinterest tag game!!! create a home - you may include a dining room, living room, kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and some form of an exterior or an additional accessory! tagging

@jettjumpsuit @yourewaytoocool @bahnhofsblumen @mothermass @larlarmojo @ameliepoulain

[blueberryredbullwithlime]

+18. age gap but yuuji and megumi are like 20

yuuji likes megumi's mama.

she's long since divorced toji and she's beautiful -she lives further away from yuuji's house than toji does and megumi feels the need to apologize for the extended effort. but yuuji swears it's no big deal, "honestly i prefer your mom's house anyway!"

megumi shrugs it off as a kindhearted yuuji-ism, thinking nothing more on the matter.

he should've looked into it more. yuuji's insistence on helping around the house; carrying in groceries, dusting fan blades and hard to reach shelves, washing dishes after dinner, mowing the lawn and skimming the pool without a shirt. yuuji's apparent sudden restlessness in the middle of sleepovers, which always somehow mysteriously wound up with him in the kitchen with you. his doting mother.

"you're so pretty," yuuji swoons, "i always wondered how megumi looked dainty when his dad's..."

"a brute?" you suggest, "that guy's oafish, total rocks for brains!" yuuji finds the hissed insults funny, "you know, megumi would probably hate hearing you call him dainty."

"eh, he's gotta know what he looks like," he waves off the concern, then leaning forward on the table, arms crossed over one another, "but, i kinda have to ask... why'd you and his dad separate?"

"so blunt!" you gasp, shrugging soon after -something about sharing this with a boy no older than your son feels wrong, but yuuji's face is so round and trustworthy, sincerity dripping from every pore. you don't have many friends anymore, the ones you do have are tired of this same old rant, but just remembering your ex's sharp face, that lashing bastard tongue oozing lies- you cock a hip against the table, subtly rattling the two steaming tea cups you'd set out, "ugh, he wanted to trade in for a younger model, go figure! he's already greying but wants to prowl around college campuses for poor girls that don't know any better! i hope one of them cuts his eyes out when he breaks their heart. stupid gambling jerk, just wants eye candy when he's out on the tracks!"

"a younger model...?" yuuji mumbles, adjusting so to lean his cheek on his fist, "i didn't think he was that dumb."

"aw, you're a flatterer, huh?"

"no, really!" yuuji pushes up from the table, nearly knocking his cup over at the sudden movement, "you're amazing, if we got married i'd be on my knees every day to keep you around."

that declaration gives you pause. eyes widening and knees wiggling, "yuuji! you can't say that!"

"huh?! why not?" his tone is far, far from suave. eyebrows raised and palms splaying flat against the table, "what's so wrong with that? it's the truth."

"i'm over forty, yuuji..." you sigh, praying your disappointment is masked as exasperation. you're not even sure you should be trying to masquerade, this is yuuji!

he's your son's best friend. he's sweet. he's helpful. he's strong. he's half your age.

yuuji's eyes dart from your face, shining beneath the honeyglow oven light, down toward your pelvis, "what? does pussy retire or something?"

"woah!" you have half a mind to whack yuuji upside the head, "you definitely can't say that!"

"you're acting like being over forty is death," yuuji abandons the chair, circling the table until he's right in front of you, "i don't get that. megumi's dad, too. 'younger models' and stupid things i can't say. you're hot-blooded and breathing, aren't you?"

"yuuji..." your own gaze flicks upward, piercing through the ceiling to where your son sleeps, "you're megumi's best friend."

"so he'd be happy if i restored his mom's confidence, right?"

"i don't think..." you whisper, voice webbing off into a mere hum.

"i do," he counters.

yuuji draws his hand over your shoulder, the palm is clammy and his face is flushed: completely erradicating any mirage of calm. though when you don't push him away, he grows bolder. stepping further into your space and twitching into your shape, as if to push a thigh between your legs. a hand itching to cup your chest. lips urged against yours.

"hmm? the hell are you two doing down here?"

yuuji slips off as easily as he appeared, shouting, "planning your birthday!"

you shudder back against the table, both hands clutching the edge for support, "megumi! you're up!"

"woke up 'n' yuuji was gone..." he scratches through his wild hair, blinking at you two through a thick haze. examining your proximity, he narrows his lashes at you judgmentally, "what was he doing down here?"

"he said- "

you're cut off by yuuji launching back into megumi's side, slinging an arm around your son's shoulders, "we were planning something! for your birthday!"

megumi glares at his friend, eyes softening when he looks to you. he nods, "yeah, okay."

yuuji forcefully turns them both as you call up a sugary "goodnight, 'gumi!"

"'night, mom!"

yuuji coos, poking his friend's cheek, "what a softie."

"whatever," megumi shrugs the boy off, scoffing while leading them into his room -pausing just long enough to sock yuuji in the shoulder, "and stop trying to bang my mom, you fucking weirdo."

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

How would the M6 react to MC being drunk in front of them for the first time? The kind of drunk that changes MC's demeanor, and now they're all giggly and reckless

The Arcana HCs: M6 reacting to a drunk MC

~ I love this request. Also I know some of you are going to read this and wonder what the M6 are like when they get drunk, which is why I'll be reblogging the original creator's response to that question right after I post this! Love you guys - brainrot ~

- to set the scene-

It has been a very, very long Friday and you have never been more ready for the weekend. Unfortunately, by the time you make it back to your living space, you find a little note from your beloved apologizing because they're going to be back later than expected. You sigh, drop your bag onto the table, kick off your shoes and lean back to relax. You had picked up some spiked lemonade on your way back to try with them, but you figure a glass ahead of time wouldn't be too bad. You take a sip and are immediately disappointed by how little alcohol you can taste.

Half an hour and two large glasses later you can feel your head beginning to swim. Surely you aren't drunk, that stuff has next to nothing in it - until you check the label attached to the back and your eyes grow wide at the numbers you read. Just as the humor sets in and you begin to giggle you hear the door open.

"MC? I'm sorry I'm late ..."

Julian

Did he expect to come home to a drunk and giggling MC? No. Is he mad about it? Also no

He can't help it, the first thing he's trying to do is evaluate you. How drunk are you? Will he also be having a few drinks tonight or is he going to be staying sober so you can let loose?

He watches as you follow Malak around the house, trying to mimic his hoarse cawing

Water it is

Come to think of it, this is a fantastic chance to display his theatrical talents. He's always had a knack for comedy

You make one of the best audiences he's had in years. Even the jokes he doesn't deliver as well as he wants to are met with uncontrollable laughter

Will absolutely act out a comedy sketch in one of his stolen wigs, the plot getting increasingly ridiculous as he gets swept away in the moment

Will die of shame the next morning when you start quoting his amphibian-inspired Romeo and Juliette improv around the house:

"Forgive me, father frog, I got the warts from the toad. But how was I to resist him? His croaking was so passionate -"

Asra

When they opened the door and heard your giggles they knew it was a good night

And then he rounded the corner and saw your flushed face and lidded eyes and dopey smile and knew that you were apparently having a really good night

They're just pulling out a chair to pour themselves a drink too when they feel a draft and look up in time to see you marching out the back door

Now he's giggling as he jogs to catch up with you, wondering where on earth drunk you has decided to go at this time of night

The docks, apparently. Their story about Faust in the palace garden maze has inspired you to try the same thing

In the middle of the night

While you are not as sober as you should be to practice life-preserving magic

The problem is that Asra is your best/worst enabler, so if trespassing on the ships to jump off of their masts is what you want to do, then that's what the two of you are doing

Three, if you count Faust

You are absolutely going to get nauseated from all the floating and puke all over him

They had it coming for enabling you, but what they didn't see coming was you pulling them into the ocean for an impromptu bath

Nadia

She's never seen you so drunk before, normally when you drink with her it's at big dinners so you don't even get tipsy

She's wavering on how to respond. Should she partake in whatever delightful brew you've apparently smuggled into the palace?

Or should she dedicate herself to taking care of you instead?

Oh but now you're giggling and collapsing into her lap, asking her about her day -

She's telling you about this one meeting with a certain courtier and now you're interrupting her, arms flung wide as you go on a drunken rant about them

Well. She knew you tended to filter your thoughts in the palace, but she had no idea your opinions were this colorful. Or hilariously stated

Now she's reaching for the bottle of spiked lemonade and pouring you another glass. What other amusing judgments have you been hiding?

Muriel

Will spend the evening taking the most excellent care of you while she prompts you for more rants

Here, lie down in her lap, drink some water, let her give you a massage, and tell her more about your thoughts on the chamberlain's most recent outfit decision, and how it resembled a stoned flamingo

Happy to hear that you're happy, but a little unsure of how to proceed

Were you planning on getting drunk? Did something happen to make you want to get drunk?

Oh, the lemonade was stronger than expected? Ok

Wait no stop trying to climb him. He's not a tree. You're going to bump your head

Oh, now you're wondering outside and loudly singing. And Inanna's going with you because she thinks it's hilarious

He's enjoying this uninhibited side of you but he's concerned for your safety

And for the safety of all the natural wildlife that may encounter you in this state

Wait no don't climb that tree

When did you get so good at climbing trees? He's never even seen you try by yourself before and now you're a good twenty feet up???

Does he climb up after you? How will he convince you to come back down?

"... MC? If you come down, I'll cuddle you."

A moment of silence. Did it work?

All he hears is a faint "catch meee ..." from high above his head before you come hurtling down through the branches

He doesn't know how he survived all the heart attacks you gave him that night

Portia

Immediately inspecting whatever it is that got you so happy. She wants in on your secrets

Spiked lemonade? From that market stall? Haha, no wonder you're plastered

She'll have a little bit, but what she really wants to know is if you'll hear out her crazy ideas for your magic abilities

"MC? Is it possible to do magic while you're drunk?"

She's met with a lopsided grin and an unsteady flash of the funniest looking sparkles she's ever seen

Were those supposed to be ... in the shape of Pepi? Or a sea monster?

Oh, this is going to be so much fun

Takes you out into the garden because she needs to know if Cinderella's pumpkin coach can actually happen (one of her guilty reading pleasures)

You come up with some abomination consisting of several squash, a whole mess of vines, and one terrified rat

The two of you end up going on a joyride through the fields behind the palace, lurching violently in all directions

There is now a rumor of the menacing giggling cryptid that wanders through the fields at dusk, scattering chunks of ravaged gourd

Lucio

Party time? Party time!!

Already loudly praising your drinking habits as he starts gulping straight from the bottle

Maybe he would savor it normally, but you started without him so now he needs to catch up

He makes the same mistake you did, of not reading the label and assuming it was weak, and the bottle is empty in minutes

"You know MC, I'm kinda surprised something that weak got you that smashed ohhhhh wait a minute -"

He just stood up and is now swaying in place, startled by the headrush

And then he hears you snorting with laughter at yourself as you try to tell the worst dad joke he's ever heard

Normally at this point he'd be caught up in the frenzy of an out of control party, what's he supposed to do when it's just the two of you?

Except you told the punchline first, and then the beginning, but now you're kind of backtracking through the middle, and you're breathless with giggles, and he's laughing too

That's it, that's how the rest of the night goes, ruining all of your favorite jokes and laughing until you're nauseated and his mascara is streaming down his cheeks

[heronoegg]

I mean this in the best way possible: If i looked up the word "spaghetti" in the dictionary i would find your art style.

On another note, i request bnha wing au lore, such as how similar their diets are to their specific bird species and birds in general as well as how cities look like, and a picture of Northern Goshawk Sero (because apparently they're the most acrobatic birds according to google.)

i don't even like spaghetti all that much if im being honest hjbghjfb it hurts my stomach and tomato makes me break out yet here i am eating pizza

anyway Sero is actully a sparrow because the pun was too good for me to pass it.

original colors and one i blasted with filters because i like doing that jvkgf hcj

i didn't want him being a hawk cause in their society Hawks are viewed as the "better" birds (by better i mean like Hawks though raptors are viewed as stronger, more successful, beautiful/handsome ect they are so this and so that) Sero's quirk compared to Bakugo influences my choice of making Bakugo a Hawk and Sero a common bird - a sparrow. there was another reason but i forgot what it was

Now as for your other questions.

-How similar are their diets to their specific bird species and birds in general

I mean, i wouldn't say somebody is eating another person, but it's not severely uncommon in their world that a person would eat another person if they were starving enough and there was nothing else around. Raptors would sooner eat a rat before another person they'd have to be severely pushed into eating another person and it's only raptors/predators cases that have eaten other bird persons but that hasn't happened in a long time (at least that they know about) It's frowned upon to eat people jfknvbghfj

They do eat seeds, they grow vegetables, they eat roots, they grow fruits, bugs that aren't sentient, they eat other little critters that aren't sentient, they eat rats that aren't sentient - they have some form of non-sentient cattle cause if rabbit people like Mirko exist that means rat people exist, i don't think sentient cow or pug people exist but bugs and lizards aren't off the table there are sentient bugs and lizards cause bug people are incorporated in wing society.

-how do cities look like?

I actually have this written out. Ok so in this AU for somereason i never explained but the planets flora grew to like massive height so giant trees that reach the clouds exist, flowers that are big as houses exist, plants making people look like bugs even if they are a bird exist but normal size land, plants and trees exist as well.

living arrangements

Bird people

they typically nest in tree houses or live in hollowed-out trees that serve as single-family homes or communal living spaces almost that of hotels.

Higher branches are reserved for the rich or successful - safety and status all that noise.

Mid-level branches have platforms and hanging structures it's middle-class neighborhoods. The poor/under paid live in shrubs where bugs live or smaller trees closer to the ground floor but still elevated enough that they aren't touching the complete ground.

Houses include perches and structures robust enough to support winged living. Regular furniture but adapted for wings and tails. Beds that provide space for wings i imagine their round?

People do still do nest-building - i think my friend said Deku's mom owns a nest. -it's an older generation thing, i assume they integrate natural materials into their living spaces either inside normal homes or in custom-built house.

i think the bird houses are my favorite thing in this AU cause i sit here and think about how their houses look alot

I think of balconies, roof gardens, open spaces it's really cool in my head think of skyloft from skyward sword but without the clouds kinda? i had skyloft in mind when i was making this AU

Bat people

They prefer caves or cave-like structures that can be built into cliffs or large trees. Wealthy bats love spacious caverns higher up, lots of privacy and security from predators

Middle-class bats may have communal roosts on ledges or hollowed parts of large trees, while the less fortunate find shelter in smaller crevices and overhangs closer to the ground but still vertical enough for their needs.

Bug people

those with butterfly or moth wings build around massive flowers and tall vegetation.

The rich live high in canopys but i think bugs are the lowest ranking species here.

some might dwell on large leaves or within the stems of tall plants, lots of vibrant communities akin suburban life. it's silly jhtbgfhj

Some individuals may resort to makeshift accommodations among thickets or low-lying plants, some elevation to facilitate their flight-based movement.

There are no streets; travel is facilitated by flight between different areas. There are lots of glades and clearings that serve as social and trading hubs for interaction between different species and economic classes.

i have other things about this AU but i wanna save it for it's own post i just wanted to answer your question.

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Hello! i was wondering if you could write me a req bc i saw your reqs r open (bc I ✨respectfully✨ suck booty at writing)

basically, reader made friends with Ghost while working together on deployment, and became friends, they hang out sometimes bc they live kinda close, blah blah blah. then, Ghost doesn't hear from reader in months (which isn't normal, bc they text like once a month, just to make sure one another is okay when they can). then, one day, in the middle of a meeting Ghost gets a call from an unfamiliar number and almost ignores it until he sees that the area code is the one reader lives in, so he decides to answer it. boom, guess what? the reader is in the hospital, sustained r/srs injuries, and is in need of emergency surgery, and the reader made Ghost the emergency contact (lets also say they traded dog tags bc fluff?)

homie gets all sad bc Reader might die and is in a mini coma, blah blah blah, realized he r in love w the reader, and uh

you can decide whether or not the reader dies and what happens next

i fr scream YIPEEE when i saw your req open, i adore your writing, like top tear, makes me cry but laugh and scream bc how are you so good?! srs, im so jelly of your writing! okay anyways, hope you have a lovely day, you dont have to do this is you dont want or if im jus a silly fucker and mis read and your reqs r closed or sum

Hellloooo! Thank you SO MUCH for the beautiful compliments and for this request <3 I loved it so much I started writing the day you sent it to me. But since it's very emotionally charged, it took me a little while to finish and I'm sorry bout that, and I rly hope you're still around and eager to read it!!! Well, there it is, my take on ur req, hope you like it.

Take me back (to the night we met) | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

✦Word count: 2.1k ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley xf!reader ✦Summary: Simon gets a call from the hospital saying that you are hospitalized, in a coma and in great life risk. ✦ TW and general warnings: sensitive topics, lots of angst, fluff though, death implications, open ending, sad af read at ur own risks cuz i'm crying in my room rn;

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met

“Johnny and I make our entrances fast. I clear the way, he goes front, three of you get in by the back and we surround the site to get enough space for the hostages to come out. Any questions?” Ghost asks sternly, as is the usual of his tone especially coming down to work. He was being brutally professional at the moment - if there was rather a sign of an existing Simon, it was gone the moment he got inside the briefing room. Silence follows for the next seconds while the crew seems to be pondering over what he said, analyzing the map over the big round table sticking to the center of the room.

As it is expected, no questions. He nods with his head assuming by the silence that they’re all understood.

“Our orders are to neutralize any individual we find on the site whose face doesn’t match with our hostages, which means we do it fast before they get the chance to call for reinforcements. We don’t wanna make a mess out of this.” Price then continues his own talking, marking X’s over the tactic map and giving the next orders to every one of them. It is when Gaz opens his mouth to say something, that Simon’s phone rings for the third time in a row. He curses mentally - he muted his phone the first time; now, it was vibrating in his pocket. Awkwardly, the vibration itself is heard by everyone in the room and they turn their eyes on him almost instantly.

“Hell.” He curses out in a low voice before shaking his head. “My apologies, Captain.” His voice tries its best not to come out too annoyed, but he fails and it does; despite the timing being inconvenient, no one seems to be bothered. Johnny furrows his brows in concern, and looks over at Price, who seems to have the same, perhaps even more intense, look on his face.

Ghost mentions to pull out and turn off his phone once again, but Price is quick to intervene.

“Riley.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Third time in a row; seems like somethin’ serious, get out and pick up.” He states comprehensively.

Despite being slightly reluctant, Ghost agrees - it must be something serious. What, he couldn't come to imagine - but if for a moment in his life he had something close to a hunch, it was now, and it said he should take that call.

“Alright, one minute. Move on without me.” He nods and leaves the room, phone in hand and a worried sigh leaving his nostrils. When the door closes behind him and he walks a bit further down the hallway, he picks up.

“Yes?”

“Is this Lieutenant Simon Riley?” A feminine voice asks from the other side. Sounds in the background, beeps and small, muffled voices.

“Affirmative, who’s this?” He frowns.

“This is from the Special Forces Manchester Hospital, are you familiar with the name- hmm…” She seems to be taking a couple seconds to read, and continues saying your name. 

He freezes in place.

How long has it been since he last heard this name? How long has it been since you vanished like thin air, disappeared, stopped calling or answering? Busy. That’s what he thought. Busy with work, busy with anything. The two of you had always been two busy people, in a desperate need for time.

For a moment, in those torturous seconds of silence, Simon found himself praying to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in, that this nurse wouldn't tell him you’re dead.

“Yes.” It’s all he manages to say, with his eyes running down to the ground in a dead stare. Dead eyes. He gulps, after the despair in his chest makes him speak once again, “Why?”

“Well- sir, you’re her emergency number, we’re calling because we couldn’t manage any family members… She’s in a coma. She was severely injured in combat, and [...]”

His heart stops, like it never did before. He doesn't react, his eyes look around as if he's searching for something - as if searching for his own reaction hidden somewhere within that empty hallway. The weight of your dog tag around his neck seems to be suffocating him now. 

To his silence, the woman continues.

“[...] it’s… currently sort of impossible to predict her state within the next few days, she’s fighting but struggling lots; can you come over?” 

“Yes.” He sharply replies, immediately. His eyes are still on the ground as he closes his eyes, and nods. “I’ll be on my way, yes.” 

“Good.” She replies, and he turns off.

For a moment, he stops to breathe; Ghost wipes his hand over his mouth in a somewhat guilty expression, he should have reached for you. He should have reached you the instant he missed you, your calls. 

“Hell…” He shuts his eyes for a moment, his heart stings like he’s poisoned, it hurts - some sort of pain he swears to god, he probably never felt before. Not when he lost his training dog, nor when he lost friends before - maybe because there were always a lingering possibility between the two of you. It was nothing but a friendship, never had been - but every word, every phrase was full of underlines of sentiment, an immense desire to reveal his interior and spit out the fears he refused to speak about to anyone else.

It's the possibility that kills him now. Even after all this time, not for a second did you cease to exist in his troubled and saddened mind. Suppressed by all the worries and feelings he thought were more important than you.

Not for a moment did he stop thinking about that pleasant end to his career, the retirement he knew he deserved, a house at least isolated from the rest of the world with trees and streams, the snow falling when winter comes and the sun scorching the land. land when summer finally arrived. You, on the front porch. 

You.  You.

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

You were leaning back on the sofa, your legs stretched out by the small table that marked the space between you and the balcony railing of his apartment.

The rain fell calmly, some thunder, but few drops. The sound of them falling against the roofs of the houses below the level where you were was echoing in your ears, and he seemed busy drawing patterns among the heavy clouds that covered the sky. 

He gave up trying to find any stars in that rainy sky and found comfort in finding your eyes instead. They were already watching him, almost expecting him to say something, even though the silence between two of you usually speaks volumes more than words itself; you’ve never been good with them, much less him. 

Simon looked down at your dog tag, lying brightly on your bust exposed by the tank top you wore. 

“What do you want to do after retiring?” He asked, his voice calm, his eyes almost closed. He took your necklace between his fingers calmly, and watched your shiny name exposed on the icy metal.

“Gotta be honest with you, can’t see myself retiring.” You replied, with your usual brutal honesty - something he particularly always liked so much about you. “What about you?” 

You don’t mind him, you allow.

“Don’t know.” He was, too, brutally honest. “Seek fuckin’ forgiveness for my sins before I die and end up in hell, I suppose.” 

You laughed.

“Oh, fuck. Gonna die trying to find that, mate.” You admit, raising your eyebrows in another big sip of your beer. “We’re all going to hell… At least we’ll all party there together.” You sounded fun, and your eyes turned into little lines with the genuine smile you let out when noticed that he too laughed at your joke. 

“We’re partyin’? Tell me Johnny isn’t going…”

“He’s my first guest.” You laugh harder.

“Thought that’d be me.” 

“You hate parties.” You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t hate you.”

You silently smiled and looked away. 

“Fair enough.”

When it came to the two of you, there was nothing but connotation.

You could spend hours in that apartment alone with him - and you did. Did plenty of times, and yet, among subtle touches and heartfelt conversations, the end would be the same. Not in his bed, not in yours: by the door, with a rueful look and smile on your face. 

With a held back hug you never gave, a held back kiss you never allowed and an uncertain goodbye before departing on a mission that could take your or his life.

There was a phone call, once.

He called you late in the night. He was drunk. Too drunk. 

“I’m scared.” His voice was low, fluttering, like those cold days he’d be waiting for his dad’s arrival in his bed, under the covers, terrified and alone. “I’m scared. Can- can I see you? Can I come over, please?” 

As you hugged him on the couch in your own apartment now - that huge, strong, self-sufficient man collapsing in your lap like a baby in need of comfort, your heart was never right about anything like it was right about loving him. In that moment you knew it, you were fucking lost, taken, desperately in love.

You departed; you gave him your dog tag, he gave you his. A memory, an attempt. Do not forget me, you said. Don’t you dare forget me if I die, Simon Riley.

“I didn’t.” 

He looks at you with regret. The devices that help you breathe keep him from seeing you fully, whole - but still behind all those hospital beeps and sounds, you're still as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

He wants to go back to the past. Reverse everything he did, redo it from scratch; the first time he saw you, the first time he felt his heart ache listening to you talk about another man, all the times he repressed his feelings and swore not to love you.

“I want to be with you.” He mutters, his eyes emptily stare down your almost lifeless hand resting over his. “After I retire. I want to be with you.” He says again, closing his eyes, shutting them tight like he’s trying his very best to repress the tears he wants so bad to let fall. 

“I fuckin’ need you- I- how did this happen, how did you…” He gasps as the clock ticks, low, the sound of the hands ringing like doomsday inside his head. Every second that passed was one less with you. There are twenty minutes left for you to enter that operating room, and maybe you’ll never leave it again.

His eyes water and his legs give out, he kneels beside the bed, his suppressed voice sounding like a low, painful moan. The cry of a child who lost everything he had; of a confused teenager who would become a soldier, cold, dead inside, incapable of love - who loved you. Who loves you. “I’m scared. I’m scared- I love you.” He’d mutter, praying to all known gods to not take you. Take anything, anything from me; anything but her.

When the doctors came into the room and hurriedly moved your gurney to the ward in a desperate attempt to get your heart working again with the transplant, Simon sat in the waiting room with his face buried in his hands, his legs trembling. and the false hope that you would come back.

That you’ll be on that front porch, resting ever so happily, a bottle of beer in your hand and the dogs running around. He will have gotten rid of the mask and the habit of wearing it and you’ll be happy. You’ll be happy. You’ll be alive.

“God, please.” He mutters. “You’ve taken so much from me, now please, not this.”

He stands up as the doctor calls his name, with his heart on his hand and regret flashing his face off, he just wants another minute with you, another second with you, enough seconds so he can tell you he love you - he had, for most of his life and now, and he will, for the rest of his days with or without you.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met.

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 25:

The world moves on, another day another drama…

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Charles POV:

"I really love this one. I mean don’t get me wrong. I loved the older buildings, they have so much charme! But this right here? It has everything! It’s not too big! And this beautiful new kitchen that’s open to the living room, with enough space for a little dining area? Look at that balcony! And it has 2 bedrooms! One with an en suite bathroom and then the guest bathroom? It looks all so clean and timeless. I love it. It’s perfect." Lizzie was practically beaming when she stood behind the little kitchen island, looking over the space.

"Yeah, it’s a really nice one! It’s all new. Top security, underground parking garage with two spots, there is a dry cleaner in the building and also a restaurant." Riccardo said and Lizzie smiled even more.

"Was there a bathtub or a shower in the bathroom?" I asked and Lizzie looked at me for a moment.

"Oh umm- I don’t… oh damn! I can’t remember, let me go and check!" she walked away and Riccardo looked at me.

"I could’ve answered that as well…"

"I know… it’s just, this flat is over her budget, right?" I kept an eye on the hallway.

"It is, that’s why I don’t get why you insisted to have a look at it?"

"The only other two flats she liked were the one in that old building! No security, the windows looked like they would be easily to break in and that balcony? That was an invitation to climb up and get inside! And the other flat? No. No. No. No. No parking garage and the security was almost not there. But this one? It’s perfect! Everything! It has the open kitchen like she loves it and a beautiful view, high security and it’s only a ten minutes walk to my flat."

"All true, but it’s over her budget… she was really strict about that." Riccardo cocked an eyebrow.

"I know… but she doesn’t. So I’ll pay up the rest." I said and he shook his head.

"Forget it! I can’t do that! Charles there will be a contract and there needs to be the real price for it to be a binding and legal document! I can’t change that up!"

"Okay… what if I buy the flat? Under my name and everything. And then you sell it to her? Within her budget? You don’t have to state the name of the seller, you can just go by your agency?"

"Charles, I don’t like that… just be honest with her? Tell her why you want her to have this flat?"

"She wouldn’t take it! She’s stubborn! She would never ever accept money from me! And she won’t spend more, because that’s just how she is!" I sighed when I heard Lizzie closing the bathroom door.

"What if she finds out about it?" Riccardo looked at me and I shook my head.

"She won’t! And if she will, than it’s my fault. I’ll take the full blame. But please help me out here! I want her to have the perfect first flat! That is safe and nice and clean not far away from me. So please!" I pleaded right when Lizzie came back.

"The en suite has a huge shower and the guest bathroom has a normal sized shower and a big tub! It’s perfect!" seeing her smile like that made me look at Riccardo with pleading eyes "I can’t believe that this is in my budget? Compared to the other ones, this here is pure luxury?"

"Well the other two were under your budget, this one is slightly over, just a little. But we can make an offer a little under the listing price and then meet in the middle that would be you budget?" Riccardo said.

"Yes! You’re the pro here! If you think I have a chance then let’s do it!" Lizzie said excitedly and Riccardo nodded.

"Let me make a phone call!" he left the room and Lizzie walked around.

"A big and comfy couch here! A beautiful, maybe round, table there? Everything in creamy white beige colours? Tons of cushions and blankets on the couch. A fluffy rug?" she was so happy and excited, I couldn’t help but grab her by the waist, kissing her.

"I’m so happy, that you’re moving here." I whispered against her lips and she smiled at me, her cheeks slightly blushed.

"Me too, Charlie bear! You can come to me! I can come to you! I can go to the beach! I can go see your Mum! It will be amazing!" she snuggled into me and I smiled, right as my phone vibrated and Riccardo walked back in. Lizzie pulled away and looked at him, waiting eagerly for him to say something. I checked my phone and smiled.

"So?" Lizzie asked and Riccardo grinned at her.

"Congratulations on your new flat." he said and Lizzie hugged him fiercely before she turned around and looked at me.

"I’m really moving here, can you believe it?" she whispered and jumped right into my arms.

"I’m so happy for you!" I answered and kissed her cheek.

"I need to take some videos and pictures for mum and dad!" she ran off and Riccardo looked at me.

"I really hope you know what you’re doing." he said and I nodded.

"I am. This will stay between us. It’s our secret." I said determined.

"Yeah, a secret worth 1.4 million Euros."

"I love how much the Tifosi love you!" I said when we drove towards the gates of the hotel, hundreds of fans waiting for Charles "They even have a banner for you!"

"I feel so incredibly honoured and loved by them, it’s unbelievable." he said, a big smile on his face "Is it okay if we stop for a bit? I want to take some pictures and sign stuff."

"Sure! That’s not even a question!" I opened my window and the car was surrounded by Tifosi in an instant, all screaming for Charles.

I tried to grab as much stuff as possible they were shoving my way, patiently handing it over to Charles to sign it and then giving it back to the fans outside the car. It was getting louder with any second and it seemed like the security guys slightly lost control over the crowd. The mood dropped a little, the shouting turned more hysterical. I could hear some people shouting my name, but the way it sounded, they weren’t saying nice things. Charles must’ve heard it too, he tried to calm down the crowd, that started calling me all sorts of names. He got angry and turned to me, his eyes widened in shock and before I could react or ask what was going on I felt something hitting me straight across the face. Charles began to scream, turning the windows up, honking and revving the engine. The security guards were able to part the crowd of people and Charles drove into the courtyard of the hotel. My ears were ringing. And my face stung.

"Cara mia? Look at me? Hey!" Charles voice a muffled whisper in the back of my head "Let’s get out of here. Come on."

What happened next, I didn’t know. I looked around, saw how Charles rushed through the room, yelling at his phone, then a guy in a dark blue suit. All in Italian. My mind wasn’t able to translate it.

"Here, cara mia." he kneeled down in front of me, gently putting an ice pack on my cheek and I flinched. The coldness on my burning skin began to prickle "Can you please say something?"

"Ouch." I breathed out.

"Other than that?" he whispered, cupping my other cheek.

"Did someone slap me?" I asked, still not fully realising what had happened.

"I’m so sorry, Lizzie. I didn’t see it coming! I would’ve stopped them, I swear!"

"Why are you apologising? You didn’t slap me, did you?"

"No! Of course not! But still!"

"They were mad at me, because of Carlos penalty, no?"

"I don’t care. They’re idiots! We leave the hotel! We go to yours." he mumbled and got up.

"No! Charles you can’t leave! This is the hotel you always stay here! All of Ferrari!" I was panicking.

"I don’t care! They hit you! What they were saying about you! We’re leaving. I don’t want you near them."

"Charles only one of them slapped me! Don’t be mad at all of them because one messed up! You know how much they love you! They adore you! I’ll go. I’ll stay at my hotel! It’s fine!" I tried to play it down, tried to convince him to stay.

"No. I don’t leave you alone. Not after that!" he pulled out his phone again and called someone. I got up and looked in the mirror. A faint red hand print on my cheek, nothing too bad, but still visible. Still a little painful. Tear stained face. I walked over to a window and looked outside. Police and security trying to keep the crowd at bay, one guy standing at the side, police officers speaking to him, while others around kept yelling at him.

"Our car is here, come on cara mia." Charles took my hand in his and pulled me away "Keep that ice pack on your cheek, please. I don’t want you to be in pain."

"I’m fine." I mumbled, following him out of the room, down a long hallway.

"Signore Leclerc! Signorina Doetterer! We are so sorry!" the guy from earlier apologised and opened up the doors for us, Joris waiting in front of a SUV. As soon as he saw me he hurried to my side.

"Who did that?" he carefully pulled my hand away to see my cheek "Fucking bastard, I’ll kill him."

"Get in line." Charles seethed and I groaned.

"It was a slap! Nothing more! You should stay here! Try to calm your fans down and the…" I rolled my eyes but Charles interrupted me.

"They are no fan of mine if they hurt you! Carlos’ penalty was his own fault! He turned fully into you! Punishing him was the only right thing to do! And if they don’t understand that, then I don’t care."

"Let’s go." Joris grabbed the suitcases from the hotel employees and packed them into the trunk, then he opened the back door and Charles gently pushed me inside, before climbing in behind me.

The drive to my hotel was quiet, only 20 or maybe 25 fans waiting for any drivers to arrive. They were screaming for Charles and I just walked straight inside with Joris.

"You need to talk to him Joris. He needs to go back to his hotel! The Ferrari drivers always stay there! I don’t want him to be in any trouble." I whispered but Joris shook his head.

"They crossed a line today, Lizzie. It is one thing writing all that disgusting bullshit under each and every post of you or about you, calling you all sorts of names at the track, but today they assaulted you! Nothing I could say would change his mind… and I honestly don’t want to." Joris shook his head, when the elevator door opened, Julie and JK coming out, looking worried at me.

"It’s all over social media! What happened? You got slapped by a fan?" Julie looked at me with wide eyes and when I lowered the ice pack she gasped "Does it hurt? Who did that? What happened?"

"We were in the car, I handed Charles some stuff to sign from his fans when the mood changed, people were getting mad about Carlos penalty and then someone slapped me. Charles got us inside the courtyard and then he insisted on leaving the hotel, staying here." I put the ice pack back and winced a little.

"And I stand by my word." Charles appeared next to us "We stay here. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go back to my hotel. But not tonight. Tonight I can’t see them."

"Joris? You can stay here as well. The rooms for Lizzie’s family are already booked but they will only arrive on Friday." Julie said and Joris nodded.

"Yeah might be better, when I come back alone they won’t stop asking me where Charles is… and I don’t want to be there right now." he said.

"Okay guys! One guy did something bad! Not all of them are bad then, okay?" I said and Charles shook his head but Joris answered.

"I don’t give a fuck. Tonight they all suck. Period."

"I have nothing else to add." Charles said and I sighed, following them into the elevator and then into my hotel room.

"You have a mail with some appointments tomorrow. Rest up now and cool your cheek!" Julie waved goodbye and left.

"Are you okay?" JK asked and I nodded.

"Yeah. I’m fine." I said and he squeezed my shoulder, following Julie.

"I leave you two as well. Good night guys." Joris hugged Charles and whispered something to him, then he hugged me "Keep the ice pack on."

"I will. Thanks for picking us up…" I kissed his cheek and he left.

"I’m exhausted." I mumbled and opened up my suitcase "I’ll take a shower. Care to join in?"

"I’m coming in a minute." Charles said, lifting my chin up to look at my cheek. He inhaled sharply. A new wave of anger making him tremble "I’m so sorry that this happened, cara mia."

"It wasn’t your fault! I’m fine. It’s just a little red, it doesn’t even hurt. I’m really okay!" I reassured him. He nodded a little and kissed my forehead.

After the shower I applied some cooling gel on my cheek and left the bathroom.

"I thought you would join me?" I asked while plopping down next to Charles who was furiously typing away on his phone "What are you doing?"

"I won’t accept it. I don’t care if they treat me like shit. But not you. Especially not when you did nothing wrong! I certainly won’t stay silent if they resort to violence!" he was furious.

"Charles, stop. Please." I put my hand on his phone, cupping his cheek "I understand that you’re mad, I am as well. But whatever you’re feeling right now, whatever you’re writing right now, it won’t change the fact that some idiot slapped me. But you know what it will change? Your relationship with the Tifosi. They love you. They adore you! They don’t call you Il Predestinato for no reason! But when you let all your anger and frustration now out, it will end only in them being hurt and you being hurt. It’s not worth it. I’m fine. I survived way worse than a little slap. Please don’t post it."

"Cara mia, I can’t let them think that it’s okay, treating you like that! Maybe it was only one guy who slapped you, but there were at least a dozen more calling you names! I won’t accept this kind of behaviour!" he gently pulled his phone away and looked over what he wanted to post.

"Do you remember the first time we were here? Watching the race back in 2011? Standing in between all of the Tifosi? How amazing it felt? And when we were waiting after the race outside for the car and that elderly Tifoso bumped into you and smiled? Saying he recognises your face? That he knows you will bring back Ferrari to its old glory? It was weird, we were only in karting, no one knew us, but he said he knows you will do it! That was the night you began to focus on one thing only. Making it into F1 and Ferrari. From that day on you loved the team unconditionally. But not just the team… the fans, the Tifosi. Don’t let one guy ruin that. Don’t let one stupid idiot ruin this connection. Please, Charles." I pleaded and he sighed, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the headboard. Silence falling over us. After a while Charles began to chuckle, throwing his phone away, turning to look at me.

"I still think he thought I was Jules…"

"He definitely thought so!" I laughed and Charles pinched my side "Can you please delete whatever you posted?"

"I already did. Right when I posted it, I deleted it again… you were right. You always are." he pulled me into his lap, hugging me tight to his body, nuzzling his face into my hair.

"I’m glad that you’re finally admitting it."

"Lizzie, how are you? We all saw the videos. Can you explain us what happened?"

"Umm, I honestly don’t know myself? It all happened so fast. Charles and I arrived at his hotel. We wanted to go out for dinner with some friends, that’s why he didn’t drop me off at my hotel first. There were a lot of Tifosi and I handed Charles stuff to sign, then there was some screaming and shouting and then it already happened." I explained and Nathalie sighed.

"We’ve heard from several sources that some fans where mad because of Carlos penalty last weekend, dropping him right outside the points.?"

"I don’t know. Maybe it was because of that."

"Your team filed a complain after the race."

"Yeah, which they had every right to, considering the fact that almost the entire side of my car had to be replaced, most importantly we needed a new PU, which means I will serve a 10-place grid penalty! Not even talking about the big cut in our budget."

"So you think the penalty is justified?"

"The complaint was justified. What the FIA decides is out of my hands."

"Thank you Lizzie!"

I smiled at her and walked away. My cheek still prickling a little.

"You did good out there. You didn’t throw any shade at Carlos or the Tifosi." Julie said and I nodded slowly.

"Wouldn’t help anyone." I shrugged and she patted my arm "I gotta go to Charles, he has my phone."

"Alright, see you later on!" she walked off and I sighed a little.

Going to Ferrari wasn’t really something I wanted to do after yesterday, but I had to.

I checked my make-up in the reflection of a window, nothing visible, and took a deep breath. I braced myself for the worst, but not even in my darkest nightmares I would’ve expected what happened next.

Charles POV:

I shook the hands of a dozen of men, thanked them for their support of Ferrari and left with Mia.

"How’s Lizzie?" she asked and I sighed.

"She says she’s fine? But I don’t know if I believe her, she was really shocked. I mean I was too, but I didn’t got slapped…"

"She’s tougher than she looks, you know that. Just show her that you’re there for her, no matter what, that’s all you can do."

"Yeah, I hope you’re right." I mumbled as we rounded the corner and I saw Lizzie talking to a girl, her back was turned to us but the way Lizzie stood there, body all tense, shoulders strained, clenched jaw, eyes almost dead and her face paler than a sheet of white paper, I didn’t need to see the girls face to know who it was. And as Lizzie slightly began to tremble I almost sprinted towards her. When she saw me she shook her head and walked away.

"Lizzie! Wait!" I shouted when someone grabbed my arm.

"Charles. Long time no see. You can let her go, she’s a big girl, she can handle herself for a couple of minutes without her knight in shining armour." her voice made my hairs stand up, my insides churning.

"What did you say to her?" I pressed out through clenched teeth and turned around, looking straight at her, a viscous smile on her face.

"I just told her that she looks good, maybe a little less weight would do her good but apart from that. Don’t worry I didn’t hurt your little girlfriend, I mean she already got slapped in the face yesterday…" she sneered.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her, trying my best not to strangle her.

"Oh, you didn’t know? I was invited! By Ferrari!" the triumphant smile on her face made rage surging through my body.

"What?"

"Oh Camille! Here you are! I see you found Charles! Wonderful! Now let’s all get inside to take some pictures!" Sylvia looked at me, a smug smile on her lips.

"No."

"No? What do you mean with no?" Sylvia chuckled a little.

"I mean that I won’t take any pictures with her." my voice was trembling with anger.

"Charles, don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t about you. Be mature about this, please. We have some important guests with us and they want to meet the drivers. Both of them." she rolled her eyes while Camille’s smile only got bigger.

"I’ll meet them. But without her. What is she even doing here?"

"Ah Camille! Here you are!" a voice from behind me said and Camille walked past me "I see you found the other driver."

"I told you that Charles and I know each other from back home in Monaco, no?" her tone of voice now sickeningly sweet.

"Oh yes, you told me all about that. Nice to meet you, Charles." the guy extended his hand and I shook it perplexed. He squeezed my hand tight, as if he was trying to intimidate me, but I didn’t even flinch.

"And you are?" I asked him, not really interested in his answer.

"Charles, this is Santiago Álvarez, son of José Álvarez, who’s the CEO of Santander. You see we have important guests today." Sylvia chimed in and I looked between her and Álvarez.

"Yeah. Very important." I said and took my phone out "Let me make a phone call and then I’ll be inside."

Sylvia nodded with pressed lips and she guided Camille and Álvarez inside.

"Joris? Where are you?"

"Turn around?" he walked up to me, looking worried "What’s going on. You look like you saw a ghost that you want to strangle?"

"You need to look after Lizzie…"

"What happened?"

"Camille is here and she…"

"WHAT?"

"She’s here with her new boyfriend, I think, and he’s the son of the CEO of Santander! I have to play now my part… but Camille talked to Lizzie, when I arrived! You know that evil witch! Lizzie looked… whatever Camille said, she was hurt and she ran away… please find her and take care of her, okay?"

"Alright. But keep that snake away as far as possible from Lizzie!"

"I promise, if she ever comes close to Lizzie again I will…"

"I know. But don’t. Please. Go now. I’ll find Lizzie!" he spurted away and I took one last deep breath, before following Sylvia back inside. Let’s get this over with.

"Lizzie?" I looked up, blinking the tears away "Come here." Joris pulled me into a tight hug and gently stroked my back.

"Camille is here…" I whispered and he nodded.

"I know. All the plants in the Ferrari hospitality died, that was the first omen that she must be around…"

"Yeah? And what was the second one?" I chuckled a little.

"Charles being this close to commit a crime."

"You stopped him before he could do anything stupid right?" I pulled away a little and Joris rolled his eyes.

"Of course! I can’t have my best friend going to jail for something that I wanted to do!"

"Joris!"

"What?" he laughed a little and then wiped away some tears from my cheeks "She doesn’t deserve a single one of your tears, okay?"

"Okay." I nodded slowly, taking a deep breath "How did you find me anyway?"

"You and Charles always were here back in F3 and F2, and also the last years…" he shrugged his shoulders and pulled me with him "Let’s go back. Let’s show her that she can’t break you."

But she did. Again. As much as I hated it. Seeing her being coddled by Sylvia, smiling as if all of Ferrari was here to tend to all her wishes, her high pitched laughter, her words towards me. It brought back all the memories. Everything I worked hard against over the past 1.5 years.

"Hey! Get out of your head!" Joris squeezed my shoulder and I nodded "You know that nothing that she has ever said to you, or will ever say to you is right? She was jealous of you. Always. Even when we were still in school and Charles was around in between races he always talked about you. She always tried to make him stop and give her attention but he didn’t."

"Until he did. He was her boyfriend first." I replied, my voice sounded more hurt than planned.

"Lizzie…" he began but I shook my head.

"I didn’t meant it like that. It’s okay. I know the reasons… it’s just- she knows what to say to push my buttons. But it’s okay. I’m okay. I think with what happened yesterday and seeing her here now- it’s a little too much all at once. But I’m fine." I said and he nodded slowly.

"But you know that it would be okay if it’s not? You don’t have to play pretend. It’s okay…" Joris stopped and looked at me.

"I know! Really! I’m fine." I smiled at him.

"Okay." he sighed and we walked the rest to the Audi hospitality in silence.

"Lizzie! There you are! I called you like a million times! We’re waiting for you!" Julie said and I looked at her, slightly confused, right as I saw Rita waving at me from inside.

"Oh shit! I totally forgot about that! Fuck! I’m so sorry! Charles still has my phone!"

"You go to your meeting, I’ll go and get your phone!" Joris hugged me.

"Thank you. Really!" I whispered and he only smiled while walking away "Okay, let’s go." I followed Julie inside.

"Lizzie! Good to see you! How are you?" Rita hugged me and gently tilted my head to the side, looking at my cheek "Let me sue that asshole."

"It’s okay, Rita, really! Thank you for coming. I know you’re busy. But this is a bit too big for me to attend alone." I said nervously and she waved me off.

"Everything for you, darling. Shall we?" she turned to Julie and we followed her to one of the meeting rooms.

"Lizzie, Rita, these are James Gay-Rees and Paul Martin, executive producers, Sophie Todd, the showrunner and Mike Osborn, representative of Netflix." Julie introduced us and I shook their hands.

"It’s so great to finally meet you in person, Lizzie! Thank you for meeting us." Sophie said as we all sat down and I smiled at her.

"Thank you for being interested in- me? I guess?" I chuckled nervously and they all laughed a little.

"How could we not? You’re defying all odds, being one of the top drivers this season!" Paul sounded impressed and I felt myself blush a little.

"We worked on a concept, here’s a presentation to show you exactly what we’re hoping to do, if you agree." Sophie said and pushed a button on a little remote in her hand. I looked at the screen, excited what they had in mind.

"Three or five part mini series. Three parts with 60-70 minutes each or five parts with 40-50 minutes each. We already filmed a little with you throughout the season. We would now focus a little more on you and your team." Paul said as soon as the presentation was over, handing me a document where all points were listed.

"Of course we would love to film a little bit of your life apart from the track as well, just to see who the person Lizzie is outside of the race suit. See your daily routines. Maybe visiting the places you used to spent most of your time when you were younger. Of course we would love to talk with your family and friends about you. Other drivers who know you. Of course Charles, as he is your best friend, Pierre and maybe Max because you drove against them for quite some time? Valtteri as he is your team mate, Sebastian as he’s your mentor? Maybe even some other big names of F1." Mike said and I looked up.

"My family and friends? As in interviews?" I asked and he nodded.

"Yeah we would love some interviews, where they tell us all about you that we think the world needs to know. But we also would love to film some parts of your private life. How you spent your free time at home with your family and friends."

"Max isn’t really a fan of yours…"

"We reached an agreement with Max, on how we continue to work with him." Sophie stated and I looked at her "Don’t worry. It’s all good."

"We know that a lot of your recovery was filmed, that would be footage we would love to use as well, maybe your family has some old tapes of your early days in karting? Everything that shows the world the person Lizzie." Mike said and I looked at the document in my hand.

"Will I have full control over what will be shown? Like when you film something and I actually don’t want it to be seen, will you edit it out?" I asked and he looked at his team.

"You have the full control of what will be shown. The Final Cut will be shown to you and you decide if it’s ready or needs some change." he answered and I looked at Rita.

"We want that written in the contract. We also want to have 24 hours time to decide. Lizzie wants to talk to her family and friends first." she stated and Mike nodded.

"We prepare the contracts and send them you, you make any additional changes and sent it back. We’ll meet tomorrow after FP2 to finalise everything."

"Okay. But there is one more thing. The compensation. This isn’t like Drive to Survive where you film 90% on track or studio or within team facilities. The drivers only have to film a little interview each individually. It’s not taking away from their time. But this is more. This is a huge invasion of Lizzie’s private life, it’s way more exposure than anything before in DTS." Rita said and Mike looked again at his team.

"250.000 Euro per episode."

"You mean 250.000 for the shorter episodes and how much for the longer ones?"

"350.000 Euro per episode when it’s a three part series; 250.000 Euro per episode when it’s the five part series."

"Alright. Sounds fair. What would you prefer? Just for us to know which way you lean towards?"

"Five parts with 40 minutes each."

"Noted."

"Regardless of the decision, we would film with our second crew Lizzie and her team this weekend, to get a lot of footage. If that’s okay?" Mike asked and I nodded "Deal for now?"

"Yes, deal for now." I shook his hand and Rita and I got up, shaking hands with the rest of the team, who then left the room.

"Well, I guess that was not too bad!" Julie said and Rita nodded.

"Yes, it really wasn’t. If it’s written down in the contract that you have the full control of the content? It couldn’t get any better than this." she said and I sighed.

"It’s still a big thing. I’ve never been this exposed. I have to talk to my family and my friends first if they would be okay with it! And Charles! We already have to be so freaking careful around the paddock! But with Netflix being around? We have to take care even inside our hospitalities."

"Or you could tell them about Charles but say that you want to keep it hidden." Julia suggested.

"With NDA’s they can’t say anything and with you deciding what’s to make the Final Cut? I guess it’s possible." Rita said "Think about it, okay? As soon as I have the contracts I work them through and then we have a talk." she hugged me and Julie and left.

"So, you have a lot of thinking to do. We’re done for today, you can leave." Julie hugged me and I nodded, right as JK came, handing me my phone.

"Here you go."

"Thanks. Have you talked to Joris? Or Charles?" I asked him.

"Joris. He said Charles will be ready in an hour. Which was a couple of minutes ago. Do you wanna wait or go?"

"Go. I’ll text him to stay at his hotel tonight. It will be better for him and Ferrari, the Tifosi." I mumbled and grabbed my bag.

My head was full. Too full. Yesterday. Camille. Netflix. It was too much. My head started to throb and I wanted nothing more than crawl under the blankets and sleep. But I couldn’t. I had to talk to my family, my friends, first. And then I had to do some thinking myself.

"The question is, if you want to do it." Dad said and I sighed.

"Yes? No? I don’t know! It’s just… god I don’t want to be this exposed? But on the other hand, I am already! Just that this time I would be in control of the narrative!"

"Then it’s a yes. I can do an interview or two. And if they want to film us hanging out and doing whatever we’re doing a couple of times? So be it." Mum said and Sissy nodded.

"Are we going to be famous?" Liam asked excitedly.

"Will people start screaming when they see us?" Benji asked.

"I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not?" I laughed, stretching out on the bed.

"We support you. And if you have the last word what will be shown and what not? I’m not even worried." Sissy said and I had to agree.

"Yeah. I think it could be something good."

"I think it could be something amazing! Do it!" Marcus smiled and I sat up.

"What did the rest of the gang say?" Dad asked and I laughed a little.

"Daniel said he can’t wait to be famous. Shima said she wants to see all the footage of her to make sure she looks good in it. Andrea said as long as I want to do it and Julia said she is on my side no matter what."

"Then it’s decided. You get your own Netflix show." Sissy said and they all started clapping.

"We’re so proud of you!" Mum choked out and I groaned.

"Mum! It’s just a documentary! Nothing big! Stop crying!"

"I’m not crying!" she sniffled a little and I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, whatever! I gotta go now. I need to take a shower and then go to bed."

"Alright! Good night, sweetheart! We see you tomorrow!" Mum said and I nodded, before I ended the call.

I was just about to take a shower when someone knocked on my door.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Charles as he walked in.

"I wanted to see you?" he looked at me intently "I wanted to see if you’re okay."

"I’m fine. You didn’t have to come here. A text would’ve been sufficient, you know?"

"But I can’t look at you through a text." he stepped closer, grabbing my waist "Please talk to me. I know that you’re not fine. I saw the look on your face after she talked to you."

"What do you want me to say?" I sighed and Charles leaned his forehead against mine.

"I want you to be honest. I want you to tell me how you feel. I don’t want you to say you’re fine when you’re quiet obviously aren’t." he whispered and I took a deep breath.

"I felt bad after seeing her, after what she said. But Joris helped me. Really." I replied.

"No. There’s something going on. I can tell…"

"Yeah… there is something going on… I had a meeting with Netflix today." I said slowly and Charles pulled away a little.

"And?" he sounded exited and I led him to the sofa, sitting down, telling him everything.

"So, they all want me to do it…" I ended and waited for Charles’ reaction.

"At the end of the day it’s your decision, Lizzie. But I think it’s a good thing. There are so many false narratives around about you. One more abstruse than the other. All the things people are saying and writing about you? You could set the record straight. You could show the world who you are. What you had to go through to be where you are today. I think it would be amazing." he said and grabbed my hands, stopping me to nervously fiddle with them.

"But there would be a lot of cameras around me…" I looked at him.

"I guess we can handle some more." he shrugged.

"Rita said I could tell them about us, but make it clear that it’s nothing I want to be displayed… she said we could make them sign NDA’s…"

"Whatever you decide, I’m 100% behind you." he kissed my knuckles.

"I hate it sometimes that you’re this perfect." I leaned against him.

"You know now what your family thinks, what your friends think, what I think… but what do you think? That’s the most important thing…"

"I think I want to do it. Tell the world my side of the story." I almost whispered it.

"Then it’s decided?" Charles tilted my head up, looking at me.

"It’s decided." I kissed him.

Charles POV:

I sat alone on the balcony, listening to the Tifosi singing songs for me. What usually would put a big smile on my face, made me feel nothing today. Not after yesterday. Not after today. I was mad. At myself. At the Tifosi. At Camille. But mostly myself. Seeing her talking to Lizzie. Seeing how Lizzie paled in an instant, started trembling, leaving and then not eating anything the entire day. My blood was boiling. Pure rage surging through my body.

"Charles?" Joris stepped out on the balcony, sitting down next to me "Are you okay?"

"I shouldn’t have left her." I sighed.

"Then why did you?" he asked carefully.

"Because she wanted me to leave. Sometimes she’s so stubborn and although I could clearly see that there was a lot going on in her head, I didn’t want to argue with her. She was already exhausted and tired. I didn’t want to add to that."

"I don’t know… maybe it would do her some good to let it all out, even if it’s in an argument."

"Yeah maybe, but you know her! She would feel bad for days if she would’ve let it all out on me and then she’s even more in her head! This is all so fucking frustrating! Yesterday was bad, yeah. But today? Camille? What the actual fuck? I don’t want her near Lizzie ever again. And I don’t want to be near her as well, she makes my blood boil. I can’t believe that I really tried it with her… what was I thinking?"

"I think you weren’t thinking at all. You were reacting. Trying something that was bound to fail, but she’s gone now. You and Lizzie are happy now, that’s all that matters!" Joris tried to calm me down but the guilt I felt since knowing why Lizzie had left so abruptly two years ago, why she had the accident, was nagging at me. Especially after today.

"It’s just… god wouldn’t I start this shit with Camille…" I began but Joris scoffed.

"Charles, you can’t change what Camille did, it’s in the pa.."

"You don’t get it, Joris!" I groaned and leaned back, exhaustion and fatigue taking slightly over "Would I just believe you guys and tell Lizzie that I loved her the moment I felt it the first time? None of this would’ve happened! And if not that, then at least I should’ve noticed how Camille was treating Lizzie and…"

"Then you have to blame all of us as well! What? You want to carry that fault alone? Not gonna happen! We knew how Camille was treating her! Maybe not everything. But we knew at least enough to tell that she’s hurting Lizzie! I knew it for sure! But I kept my mouth shut because Lizzie wanted it like that! So blame me! And if we’re on it, blame Lizzie! Yes! Stop looking at me like that! Why didn’t she tell you earlier that she loved you? Why didn’t she tell you how Camille treated her? Why didn’t she let us tell you the truth? You see? It’s a fucking circle! And the only person to blame is the person who said and did these malicious things! And that’s Camille. You get it? It was her! Not you. Not Lizzie. Not the rest of us. Her. She decided to be an insufferable, horrible bitch. She alone is to blame. And if you don’t get that into your stupid brain. Then I guess I’ll blame myself as well now for everything that has happened… so what is it? Are we sitting here now, should I get us some booze and we get drunk because we both fucked up and are the ones to blame? Or are you accepting that it’s not your fucking fault? And let it be?"

I swallowed hard and looked up in the sky. Thinking about Joris' words. Then I sighed and leaned back in the chair.

"You’re right. It’s in the past…" I said after a while.

"I’m always right." Joris chuckled.

"Oh shut up." I said but smiled at him "Thank you. Really."

"Charlie!" I heard Liam before I could see him and turned around, right as he hugged my legs.

"Hey Bubba!" I bent down, hoisting him up "Where is the rest?" I looked around but couldn’t see anyone "Liam? Did you run away?"

"Technically, yes, I was running… but I said I would go to you." he had a mischievous smirk on his face, that reminded me all too well of Lizzie’s.

"And you said to who that you would come to me?" I asked and he shrugged a little.

"Everyone? I screamed I go to Charles and then I ran…" he looked down and I chuckled, walking to the Audi hospitality.

"And did they hear it? Did they say it’s okay?"

"Umm- well Mummy’s not here, she left a little earlier. Oma was talking with Rita, Lizzie and Pops were talking with the Netflix people." he admitted meekly and I sighed a little.

"Bubba we talked about this before! You can’t just run away!" I looked at his big blue eyes and he nodded.

"I just wanted to see you. You were the best today! You will win on Sunday! I just know it!" he sounded very sure of himself.

"Yeah? You think so?"

"Absolutely! But don’t tell Lizzie…" he almost whispered the last part.

"Don’t tell Lizzie what?" speak of the devil, Lizzie came right out the door, looking at us, both at a loss of words "So? Bubba? What should Charlie not tell me?"

"That he umm- well he ran away again! We wanted to sneak him back in here, pretend like it didn’t happen… but don’t worry! I already told him what he did was wrong!" I said quickly and Liam nodded.

"Well, Liam, Charlie is right! You’re not supposed to run away!" she said and he looked at me a little relieved "Even if you just want to run to Sundays race winner…"

Liam gasped and I had to stop myself from laughing at how Lizzie pretended to be hurt.

"Nooo! Lizzie I didn’t mean it like that!" Liam tried to wriggle out of my arms but I held him closer.

"Hey! So you don’t think I win?" I asked him and his head snapped around.

"Of course you will!" I could clearly see that he was getting upset and began to stroke his back, looking at Lizzie who understood immediately.

"Hey Bubba, we’re just joking!" she cooed and gently stroke his cheek "It’s all good!"

"Yeah, we were just messing with you a little, sorry Liam." I kissed his cheek and he took a deep breath.

"So, you’re not mad at me?" he asked quietly and we both shook our heads.

"But we have to talk about you running away… not cool!" Lizzie tickled him a little and he began to giggle.

"I’ll never run away again! I promise!" he said breathlessly.

"Good!" Lizzie and I said in unison and I put him down.

"I gotta go now, I see you guys later at dinner!" I ruffled Liams hair and side hugged Lizzie, squeezing her waist.

As I walked back I noticed how the people around me were whispering, most of them pointing at their phones and I pulled mine out. I opened Instagram and saw a breaking news post from F1, saying that Netflix just announced a documentary series about Lizzie. I liked the post and looked for Netflix. When I saw the post I smiled proudly, liking it. I typed in a comment, knowing that Lizzie would love it. Then I shared the post. Everyone should see how excited I was about it.

To say it was everywhere, was an understatement. From the moment I entered the paddock on Saturday morning everyone was staring at me, whispering behind my back. I heard a lot of positive things. But also a lot of negative things. Knowing that I had a 10-place grid penalty, after I needed a new PU thanks to Carlos’ little nudge last weekend, the pressure was on. I had to give 200% at today’s qualifying. Seeing how fast the RedBulls but especially Charles were yesterday, I knew that there was no room for mistakes today.

"Nervous?" Paul asked as I fiddled with my bottle in the back of the garage and I looked up.

"No?"

"You seem a little… tense? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I’m fine."

"Let’s go. Warm up." JK nudged my shoulder and I nodded, following him out the back "This dude really doesn’t give up."

"JK he’s just nice!" I groaned.

"Okay. If you say so."

"I say so."

"Good."

"Good. Can we warm up now?"

"Yes, grumpy cat." he held out his hands with two balls.

"Don’t call me that." I prepared to catch the balls.

"But you are a grumpy cat today." he dropped them, I only caught one.

We did it a couple of times but my head was just not in the game.

"I will fuck up this quali." I mumbled and JK put the balls away.

"What’s going on?" he looked at me intently and I sighed.

"The Netflix thing? I’m not so sure anymore if it was a good idea… did you read the comments underneath the post? All the F1 fan accounts shared their opinion about it and guess what… they now hate me even more."

I expected that some people wouldn’t be happy with my decision. And I honestly thought that by now I was okay with ignoring the sheer outpour of hate towards me. But I wasn’t. It was too much, again. This weekend started out the worst way possible, with lots of people saying they would’ve slapped me harder and that I just got what I deserved. Then Camille showing up, looking at me with utter disgust whenever she saw me and breathed out nasty comments. And now another episode of the internet hates me. It was just all too much.

"Hey, Liz?" JK squeezed my shoulder and I blinked confused.

"What?"

"You spaced out a little. What’s going on?"

"Qualifying. I have to be at my best. With the grid penalty." I said hastily.

"Yeah? And that’s all? You sure?" he cocked an eyebrow and I nodded.

"Yep. I’m fine." Nope. I wasn’t.

"Lizzie. That was a tough quali but you did pretty well in the end! P2! Which means you’re starting from P12 tomorrow. What do you think is possible for you?" Naomi Schiff asked, an encouraging smile on her face.

"Yeah the quali wasn’t looking too good for most parts, but the last lap was pretty good. So yeah P12. Charles is fast this weekend, Ferrari in general looks fast, RedBull also. Valtteri will start from P7 no, P6, he can put the cars in front under pressure. Maybe we can both do that if I make my way fast enough up to him. But you never know. It’s Monza after all."

"Last time you raced in Monza you won both, the sprint and feature race, does that boost your confidence a little?"

"It certainly helps, knowing that I already was able to make it from P17 to P1. But yeah we will see. I’ll do my best. That’s all I can do."

"I need to address it. Netflix. Big thing. It’s a big step into the right direction, I think."

"Well yeah. I was hesitant at first. Knowing that my private life would be overexposed and knowing that me driving in F1 is still a thorn in the side of many people."

"I’m sure it will definitely help people see eye to eye with you? Maybe even stop the criticism you’re facing on a daily basis."

"I honestly don’t care if people like me or not. This is about way more than just me alone. It’s about how hard it is for girls in motorsport and what we have to go through. So that’s what I’m focusing on."

"There has been an uproar that you’re getting an extra documentary instead of some other drivers who contributed to the sport over the years."

"Again. This isn’t just to show me and how great my life as a F1 driver is. It will highlight my way, as a girl who was told more than once from race directors to journalists to other drivers that I won’t make it far anyway and that I should just enjoy the ride as long as possible, to being here today. Of course there are other drivers who would deserve their own spin-off. Lewis of course. He’s the one who would deserve this more than I do, for everything he has done for the sports, given the fact that he’s the only Black driver, facing racism his whole career. Knowing the struggles of how to make it as someone with limited opportunities simply because you’re not like the rest. But this isn’t my decision to make."

"Thank you Lizzie, I am really looking forward to watch it. Good luck in tomorrow’s race!"

Starting from P12 wasn’t the worst position I was in before. But racing in Monza was different. It wasn’t called temple of speed for no reason. So when I made it already onto P7 by lap 4 I thought that maybe a podium was possible after all.

"Valtteri will let you pass him."

"What? No!"

"You have more pace."

I didn’t like that. Passing him without a fight.

"Okay." I sighed and right at the next corner Valtteri left me enough space to slip past him.

The race was uneventful. For the most part. Carlos and I got called into the pits at the same time and my pit crew did an amazing job, resulting in an 2.1 second long stop, whereas Carlos having 2.9 seconds, granting me to pass him in the pits already, putting me in P4 and him in P5. As he exited the pit lane he had Valtteri right at his tail which gave me the chance to create an even bigger gap between us.

"Russel 1.7 ahead."

"Lap times?"

"24.76"

"Me?"

"24.65. Keep pushing."

"Alright."

George defended hard, but I managed to slip past him. Leaving him behind, right as I watched how Charles managed to pass Max. I inwardly cheered. Winning Monza would be amazing for him. I saw George coming closer as the yellow flag was waved.

"Safety car."

"What happened?"

"Ricciardo has to retire."

"No crash?"

"No."

The race ended with Charles winning behind the safety car.

"And P3! Amazing race, Lizzie!" Pete cheered.

"Thank you guys! That was only possible because of that amazing pitstop!"

"That’s another podium, Lizzie!" Felix radioed.

"Where’s Valtteri?"

"P5."

"Amazing! Good job from everyone!"

I parked the car next to Charles and watched him climb out, waiting for me. As soon as I was out I shook my head, tilting it towards his team and he understood, jumping in the awaiting arms of them. I ran up to my team and hugged everyone.

"You did fucking good, Lizzie." Max hugged me as soon as I walked back from my weighing, taking my helmet off.

"Yeah. You too. The safety car was a little unfortunate, though."

"He would’ve won anyways. He had way more pace than I had. And his tyres were better."

"Glad to hear that, Max." Charles chimed in and clapped his back, before he engulfed me in a big hug, picking me up und spinning me around "You were amazing, cara mia." he whispered in my ear.

"I’m so proud of you! You won both your home races in one year." I smiled and he sat me down, right as I was being dragged for my post race interview.

We walked down the stairs and I was talking to Max when I saw how our family proudly cheered for Charles as he stepped in front of them. Charles picked Liam up and he whispered something in his ear, making him laugh out loud, shaking his head.

"But we have to ask Lizzie first." Charles said right as I said my goodbyes to Max and joined them.

"Ask me what?" I looked at them.

"Charlie says he doesn’t want to celebrate tonight. He wants to watch a movie… so can we maybe watch a movie together? You and Charlie and me?" Liam looked up at me with his big puppy eyes and I smiled.

"Just us three? What’s with Mummy? Oma? Pops?" I asked and he turned in Charles’ arms looking at said people.

"I have movie night with you every week! But not with Charlie and Lizzie!"

"If Lizzie and Charlie are ok with it?" Sissy looked at me and Charles.

"Popcorn, ice cream and pizza? How does that sound?" I said and Liam’s eyes lit up.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" he clapped excitedly and I kissed his cheek.

"Alright. Later on you go with mummy back to the hotel and get bed ready, Lizzie and I try to be done here as fast as possible and then we pick you up and have our little movie night!" Charles said and I nodded.

"Okay!" Liam hugged Charles before he was sat down on the ground "See you later!"

We watched how they walked away and Charles looked at me.

"A movie night with my two favourite people sounds better than any party the team could’ve planned!"

"Are you really sure? You won. If you change your mind we can go later tonight?" I asked but he shook his head.

"Nope. I just want to get back to your hotel and watch a movie. A perfect night." he hugged.

"What my race winner wants, my race winner gets!"

I looked over, Liam snuggled into Charles side, Liams head on his chest, his arm curled around the little boy, keeping him close. Both asleep, soft snores escaping their mouths. I chuckled a little and took the bowl of popcorn, carefully getting up, grabbing my phone and waking into the bathroom.

"Hi, you want me to pick him up?" Sissy asked.

"They fell asleep. All cuddled up together. I let them sleep. Can you just bring some clothes and his bag for tomorrow? Then Charles and I can go to the karting track with him right when we get up. You can sleep in, for a change."

"Sounds amazing, but are you sure? You know he’s an early bird."

"Just like me…"

"Yeah but you had a race today, the last days weren’t easy, it would be okay if you were a little exhausted!" she sounded worried.

"I’m good. Really! I realised something today…"

"And that is?"

"No matter what I’m doing, there always will be people who hate me, have a problem with what I’m doing, how I look, what I wear, how I behave, what I wear… I can’t change their opinion. So I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m done with feeling bad. I do what I love most. And I do it the way I want to."

"Sounds good to me. I’ll be down in 5."

It was true. After reading all the negative comments, seeing the posts, videos and what not, about the Netflix deal the whole last night I realised that no matter what I did, it was never enough. If someone decided to hate me, then I couldn’t make them change their mind. They had to do that themselves and if they didn’t want to? Then it’s their problem. I wouldn’t let them drag me down again and again for doing what I love so fiercely. I got up when Sissy texted me that she was outside my door.

"Here are fresh clothes, I packed some extra clothes because you never know! If there’s anything, give me a call."

"I will and now order yourself a cocktail and enjoy your night off."

"Don’t worry, I will." she grinned and walked away.

I took Charles rings and watch carefully off and put them on the bedside table. Then I pulled the blanket from underneath them and tucked them gently in, kissing both their cheeks, before climbing in next to them in bed, switching the light off. Scooting a little closer, getting sleepy. Tiredness taking over.

"Cara mia?" Charles whispered after a while and I hummed quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too and now sleep. You need your energy, because today was your only victory in Italy for this week!"

"We’ll see…"

His soft chuckle was the last thing I heard, before I fell asleep.

The whole elevator ride up Liam was chuckling.

"Don’t look at me like it’s my fault!" he said and I groaned.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Hey! You’re the grown up!" he laughed.

"You’re turning 5 in 5 months… sorry that I thought I could give you something to drink without you spilling it all over yourself! Ruining the last set of fresh clothes that I had for you!" I sighed and he chuckled even more as we walked out on the corridor "Can you please help me?" I looked at Charles who held his hands up.

"Nope. You two are doing fine." he said and I shot him a glare, taking the key card out of my bag.

"You’re a traitor!" I whisper shouted and he laughed right as we walked inside the room "Sissy? We need new clothes for Liam, I don’t know if you’ve seen my text…" I said loudly into the room when we heard shuffling and rummaging, rounding the corner. Sissy stood in front of us, covered in only a towel, her hand on the closet door.

"Sorry!" Charles held his hands in front of his eyes and turned around "I didn’t see anything."

"H-Hi? What umm- what are you doing here?" Sissy sounded out of breath "I thought you would take him with you to the karting track?"

"We were in our way when Mr. I won’t spill my juice well spilled his juice all over himself… didn’t you get my text?" I looked around for her phone "Did you just get up?"

"What? No? I took a shower and now I wanted to get ready and meet you at the track!"

"Oh, okay. Charles, help Liam out of his dirty clothes, please." I turned to him and he nodded, Liam already throwing his wet shirt on the floor "We can wait for you and then all go tog-…"

"NO!" she all but shouted and I looked at her "I mean no, you don’t have to wait! You know how long I take to get ready! You guys go and we’ll meet there! All good!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah? I mean? Are you?"

"I am…"

"So, see you on track then?" she clapped her hands together.

"Fresh clothes for Liam?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"Umm- right…" she didn’t move.

"Can you give them to me?"

"Sure."

"Okay? Then do it?"

"I will."

"Yeah? Then open the closet and hand them to me?"

"What?"

"Closet? Behind you? Fresh clothes for your son?"

"Umm…"

"Is there a reason why you won’t open that closet?"

"No?" she laughed nervously and the realisation hit me. I looked around and spotted a pair of shoes. And I knew those shoes.

"Okay, then open it?" I grinned and she blushed "Come on! Open the doors, your son needs new clothes…"

She still didn’t move her eyes looking everywhere but at me.

"Charles, can you go with Liam to the bathroom please? He’s probably a little sticky… I’ll bring you the fresh clothes in a minute."

"Sure, come on Bubba. Mum and auntie are in some weird kind of conversation…" he whispered taking Liams hand, leading him in the bathroom.

"Girls are so weird!" Liam giggled and the door closed.

Sissy sighed and I leaned on the table.

"Are you hiding Daniel Ricciardo in your closet?" I laughed.

"What?" Charles voice rang out from the bathroom.

"Oh god. Can this day get any worse?" Sissy mumbled and looked down.

I pushed myself off of the table and walked towards her, her eyes widened.

"Are you decent, Daniel?" I asked and I’ve never seen my sisters face this red.

"Not really, no…" his voice sounded muffled.

"Okay… I turn around and you hand my sister some clothes for Liam, is that alright?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Thanks."

As soon as I had the clothes I pushed them in Charles waiting hands at the bathroom door, his face flushed from not laughing out loud.

"Hurry up please!" I said and he nodded, dressing Liam up.

"I’m not a baby! I can do it alone!" he protested but Charles shook his head.

"I love you, Bubba, but we’re in a hurry and you need too long!"

"Unfair." he groaned as Charles picked him up.

"Alright, we’re leaving!" I said as the two boys came out of the bathroom "See you later, then we can have a nice talk?"

"Yeah, whatever." Sissy rolled her eyes

"Wait! I want to give Mummy a kiss!" Liam whined and Charles looked at me with big eyes.

"Okay, a quick one!" she said and crossed the room, as the door of the closet opened slowly.

"Oh shit, no, no, no, no, no!" Daniel exclaimed and tried to grasp the door.

"Okay, bye!" Sissy pecked Liams cheek and pushed him and Charles towards the door. I waved a red headed Daniel, covering his down under region and followed Charles and Liam out.

"Take your time…" I whispered to my sister as she slammed the door shut.

We walked quickly and in total silence to the elevator and as soon as the door closed Charles looked at me, eyes full of tears of suppressed laughter.

"Why was Daniel Ricciardo hiding in Mummy’s closet? Did they play hide and seek?" Liam asked and Charles and I lost it, both laughing out loud, tears streaming down our faces, Liam looking confused at us "Did Mummy lose?"

"Oh no Bubba, I think Mummy won…" I said, breathing heavily.

"Yeah, I think so too." Charles was almost breathless.

"He’s really good!" Max stated as he got out of his kart, together with his nephew "This little one here is not ready yet."

"What did you expect? He’s not even 2!" I laughed, ruffling the little boy’s, a hard copy of Max, hair.

"With 2 I drove my first race."

"Of course." I rolled my eyes and slapped his shoulder, right as I heard a screeching followed by metal crashing on metal. I turned around in horror, seeing how Charles jumped out of his kart, discarding his helmet and running to the little mountain of debris. My heart skipped a beat.

"Liam!" I croaked out, a lump formed in my throat, I didn’t even realise that I was running towards Charles already.

"It’s okay Liam, it’s all okay!" Charles cooed and I fell down on my knees next to him, watching how he gently took off Liams helmet "Is it only your arm? Or somewhere else?"

"Arm only." tears streaming down his face.

"Okay, that’s good! You’re doing amazing!" Charles carefully picked Liam up and stood up. I quickly did the same, looking at the wrecked kart "Hospital. Now." Charles looked at me and I gulped.

"Are you sure we shouldn’t call an ambulance?" I was unsure.

"They take too long! We’re faster! Come on!" Charles nodded towards the exit, starting to walk off.

I looked at the wrecked kart, when I saw what caused the crash.

"Lizzie!" Charles shouted and I flinched, turning around. He said something to Max who only nodded and I followed him outside to the car, where he buckled Liam into his car seat.

"Stay with me, Charlie." he sobbed and Charles nodded, handing me the keys.

"I try to call Sissy!" I already dialled her number, but only got the mailbox. I called her again and again. The whole way to the hospital, following Charles’ instructions. Nothing. I groaned in frustration.

"Are we there yet?" Liam whimpered from the backseat.

"Almost Bubba. Lizzie is driving as fast as she can." Charles held him close, stroking his back and kissing his head.

"I’m so sorry, Liam. It was my fault." I said, blinking tears away. I felt Charles hand on my shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault." he said but I shook my head.

"I should’ve checked the kart first."

"You did! You couldn’t anticipate that the suspension would break!"

"But I… I was taking care of him. He was with me. I didn’t… it’s my fault. He got hurt while I was watching over him…" my voice hoarse.

"It wasn’t your fault! Stop it now! We’re here. Everything will be fine!" Charles unbuckled his seatbelt as soon as I parked the car and jumped out, running around the car getting Liam out, carrying him carefully in. I swallowed hard and followed them.

"… are you the father?" a nurse said and I looked up.

"No, I’m his uncle. This is his aunt. His mother is at the hotel, we couldn’t reach her. But we keep trying! Just take care of him." Charles said to the nurse, while he sat Liam on a stretcher.

"Alright. Then let’s go little man. Sir, you and your wife can come with us." the nurse said and Charles took my hand and pulled me with him.

"He’s in good hands, Lizzie. He will be fine." Charles whispered and I nodded, silent tears streaming down my face.

I watched how a doctor carefully examined Liams arm, silent tears running down his cheek, Charles stood next to him, holding his hand and stroking his back. It was all happening in a blur. I wasn’t even sure if I heard everything correctly that was said.

"I would say it’s a simple and clean break of the radius, I can’t feel any splintering. But to be 100% sure we make an x-ray." the doctor said and Charles nodded "But before that, you’ll get a little cup of magic juice. Then the pain will be gone in no time." and right on cue the nurse from before came in with a tray with a little cup and a big cup on it.

"Here, the magic juice might have a little bitter after taste." she handed Liam the small cup and waited for him to empty it, then handed him the big cup with water "I come back in five minutes and get you to take a nice little picture of your bones, how does that sound?"

"Will you cut open my arm? To see my bones?" Liam made big eyes and Charles chuckled a little.

"No! We have a special camera that can take pictures through your flesh."

"Just like Superman?"

"Exactly!" she smiled and booped his nose "You are a clever one!" Liam blushed a little and began to giggle "You will feel a little funny and maybe even a little tingly because of the magic juice." Liam nodded and she left.

"You’re doing amazing, Bubba." Charles kissed his head, not moving from his side, while I just sat there. Unable to move, to talk, to do anything at all. I was in shock. I was supposed to look after him. And I failed.

"Alright little man! Let’s go. Your aunt and uncle will have to wait here, but don’t worry I will take good care of you!" the nurse helped Liam to sit in a wheelchair and left. I was looking at the closed door and didn’t even realise that Charles sat down next to me.

"Cara mia? Are you okay?" he whispered as he took my hands in his, turning me to look at him.

"I was supposed to take care of him." I mumbled and he sighed, pulling me into him "I failed."

"Stop it. You couldn’t know that this was happening! You took care of him! Like you always do! It’s not your fault, you hear me?" Charles tried to reassure me but I shook my head.

"Look how you took care of him! You held his hand, were by his side while I sat here and did nothing but staring at him. Not even saying anything encouraging to him. Nothing!" a new wave of tears was streaming down my face and Charles cupped my cheeks, wiping them away with his thumbs.

"You were under shock! It’s okay! He is okay! Did you see how he smiled at the nurse? How he pretended to be like a strong boy who wasn’t in pain whenever she came in? The little charmer tried to impress her." Charles chucked and I looked at him.

"I didn’t even realise that. I was so lost in my thoughts." I whispered and he nodded.

"It’s all okay. It’s just a simple break. They will fix it. He will have a cast for a bit and then he will have a cool story to tell back home." Charles stroked my back and I nodded, right as they brought Liam back in.

The doctor looked at the pictures, explaining Liam what he could see and to everyone’s relief it was really just a simple and clean break, that needed no special fixing, only a cast to keep it still.

"Now you have to decide what colour you want. We can make it white, blue or red." the doctor asked Liam and he had a big smile on his face.

"Red!" he said determined and I had to chuckle a little. Red. Just like Ferrari.

"Good choice! Any special reason?"

"Charlie drives for Ferrari and Ferrari is red. And Lizzie drives for Audi, they’re also kinda red. So of course red!" Liam explained proudly and I smiled at him.

"Here is a prescription for some painkillers. Check in with his doctor back home in the next 3-4 weeks. Maybe the cast can be removed by then already." the doctor said and I nodded.

"Thank you so much!" I smiled at him and shook his hand.

"Yeah, thank you." Charles shook his hand as well "Ready to go, Bubba?" Liam nodded, yawning a little.

"The pain medication from earlier will make him a little drowsy, maybe a little nap and enough to drink, then he’ll be fine in no time!" the nurse said and Liam smiled at her "Goodbye, little man! You were so tough!" she gently ruffled his hair and Liam giggled.

"Goodbye, nurse Isabella. You were an amazing nurse!" he said and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Okay, little Casanova, time to go." Charles chuckled, hosting him up and carrying him.

The whole way outside he was waving to nurse Isabella.

"She was pretty." Liam said as I opened the doors.

"She really was." I laughed but then I saw Sissy rushing towards us, closely followed by Mum and Dad. Daniel was waiting a little behind with Max and his nephew.

"What happened?" she asked and kissed Liams cheek, looking at his arm "Lizzie? What happened?" she looked at me and I began to stutter.

"H-He drove- umm suspen- suspension broke and he broke and he’s- he’s umm…" the panic in her eyes made my anxiety shot through the roof. Charles sensed it and stepped closer, rubbing soothing circles with his hand on my waist, pulling me into him, while still holding onto Liam.

"The suspension of his kart broke, we don’t know why. He spun out and crashed into a barrier. He let go of the steering wheel and his arm made contact with the barrier. He’s okay. An easy and clean break of the radius. No surgery needed. He will have the cast for at least 3-4 weeks, then you should see your doctor at home. And it might can come off. Here’s some prescription for painkillers. He’s a little… well yeah kinda high because of something he got earlier. He’s a little tired. Let him sleep, give him enough to drink and he’ll be okay in no time." he said and Sissy nodded, looking at me.

"Lizzie?" she said and I shook my head, Charles stepped away.

"I’m sorry! I swear I checked the kart before! I don’t know how it happened!" I said and she hugged me, I sobbed, apologising over and over again.

"Hey! He’s okay! Right? Nothing bad happened! It’s okay! It’s not your fault!" she whispered but I shook my head.

"I was supposed to take care of him and I fa-…"

"You took care of him. He’s okay! It’s not going to be his first broken bone! At his age you had already broken your arm twice and your leg once! Don’t forget about your elbow on Christmas!” she said and I chuckled through the tears.

"Yeah that was stupid." I sniffled a little.

"It just showed that you would fight for what you want! You didn’t get a bike, we did, you wanted to have one as well so you climbed on mine to steel it… well we know how it ended!"

"I actually didn’t want to steel it… I wanted to break it." I admitted and Sissy laughed.

"Wow! Okay!" she pulled away and wiped my tears off of my cheeks "Are you okay?"

"Yeah… sorry…" I sighed but she shook her head.

"Stop apologising." she looked over at Liam who showed off his cast to Mum, Dad, Daniel, Max and his nephew "Look how happy he is."

"Who? Liam or Daniel…" I asked and she pinched my side.

"Very funny."

"So you and Daniel?" I winked at her.

"Me and Daniel…" she sighed a little.

"I need more than that… but not today. Today was enough. And today isn’t even over yet…" I groaned and she laughed.

"It barely even started…" Sissy took my hand and we walked over to the little group.

I saw how Dad was looking curiously at Daniel who was signing Liam’s cast. Handing the pen to Max who signed right under it.

"You have to sign as well Lizzie! Right after Charlie!" Liam said excitedly and I nodded, right as Dad pulled me to his side, kissing the side of my head.

"Why did Daniel Ricciardo arrive with your sister at the karting track?" he asked and Sissy’s cheeks were turning red, while Daniel’s smile got bigger, although he seemed a little flustered.

But before I could even say anything Liam beat me to it.

"Mummy and Daniel were playing hide and seek in Mummy’s room this morning. He was hiding in her closet. Not the worst hiding spot." he chirped and Charles laughed, trying to cover it up with a cough.

"Oh? Is that so? Interesting. Very interesting." Dad said and looked at Daniel, now blushing as well.

"Why is that interesting? It’s just hide and seek?" Liam asked confused and I laughed.

"Grown up stuff." Charles said.

"Oh? They played a grown up version of hide and seek?" he looked at Charles who almost choked up, trying hard to not laugh.

"Exactly. They played the grown up version of hide and seek!"

"I’m hungry? Is anyone else hungry? Yeah? Let’s have some lunch I’d say, right?" Sissy said hastily and pushed Charles with Liam in his arms towards our car "Come on! Let’s go!"

"Is the difference between kids hide and seek and grown up hide and seek that in the grown up version you have to be naked?" Liam asked and I lost it. Together with Charles and Max we laughed out loud. Sissy and Daniel turning even redder. Mum chuckling quietly. Dad kept looking between Liam, Daniel and Sissy.

"Interesting. Very interesting indeed."

Little Note:

Chapter 25 - MONZA… I just had to let Charles win! And like the title said… DRAMA 😬 I hope you like it!

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@silkenthusiasts @eugene-emt-roe @sunny44 @itsjustkhaos @glitterquadricorn @aundercover @kakorrhaphiphobia @alittlebitofbooksandmagic @ru-kru @glitterf1 @janeholt3 @maeve-wileyy @18754389 @chiliwhore @hellowgoodbye @queensassybitchsworld @harrysdimple05 @skynel09

All the images I’m using are from Google, Pinterest and Instagram (or self made).

[nei-ning]

Two dreams, shortly. I don't remember everything anymore :'D

Dream 1. I was visiting one of my aunts who lives near by. She started to tell me about it how she, apparently owns or travels, in this small bus. It's always rather full of people but there's always this one dark person. She said it's a ghost, apparently about 10 years old girl or younger woman. It's harmless ghost but she always stands or squats at this particular spot and people see her when they are near her spot. I got excited so I listened when she told me more, her words turning into a movie in my head.

She said people speak the ghost could be a spirit from Navajo Indian tribe (which we don't have in Finland) while showing me this image of old cemetery in the middle of old forest, there being people wearing black robes etc. Apparently they did some rituals there to disturb the spirits / bring them back to life to "harm" people. Scare and all that stuff. Next I was in the said bus where the ghost should be but I stood at the other end of the bus. I went in the other end, finally seeing this black ball mass on the floor in front of the bus' door. My sister was with me now and I asked did she see the mass. She did. I told her the story what aunt told me while approaching the mass.

I spoke to it gently, telling it I know her story and that she don't need to be afraid of me etc. I also asked could she turn the little light on above the mass and it did flash once. It actually flashed each time I spoke. It was a sign she heard me. But then the mass vanished when I got too close to it. The bus around me vanished too and now I stood in beautiful dark purple - dark blue space with tiny stars there and there. In front of me, on the space, appeared huge half body image of male God who looked VERY similar to Indian God Shiva! At first he floated there still, keeping his eyes closed but then he started to move and talk to me! I remember him moving his hand as he spoke but, damn it, I didn't hear his voice! >:O All what I heard was my aunt's voice who spelled me his name but do I remember that? NO! I only remember his name had letters like A, E and T. But I rolled names like Anunaki, Anakin and something else in my mind. The dream ended soon after this God vanished.

Dream 2. I was watching some TMNT horror cartoon and I LIKED it so much! April was actually showing it on TV and I tried so hard to press INFO button on the remote, seeing what episode this was but the INFO didn't work! It pissed me off :'D

Next there was a scar on a street, downhill, on this calm neighborhood at night. Street lights were on. The car was full of people, mostly fictive, but there was Raphael (2003) too and most of the dream I was in him. Apparently April owned the car and had invited people in there to have sex (with toys but not with herself) - don't ask me why. I have no idea :'D And Raphael had gone there. I sat in this tiny car, squeezed in there while April from the front gave us a big bag on the backseat, asking us to take favorite toy from there. Raphael's toy was rubber ball with little diamonds decorating it. He used it and that was it. He got out of the car, walking a bit downwards on the road, then entering in this small 1800's styled little house. All the furniture looked brand new and the house overall looked new and more like a museum.

Mikey was greeting Raphael at the hallway / mudroom which was round, having tiny round table there too. I, as Raphael, noticed all these little gnome and elf decorations on the table with glass lanterns with candles and all other items. Then Mikey shyly said: "I hope you don't mind them. I had to put them back on display. It felt weird to be without them."

Raphael eyed them a while, then smiled softly. "It's okay. Ya know, I wanted ta put them back too. Felt too empty and weird without them."

Apparently those items had been there only during some holiday season and they brought some kind of safety / protection feeling in the place so I totally get it why turtles wanted them being put back on display. There was many of them already on the mudroom table and cabinets, more of them on the living room table and those old cabinets, on the windowsills and so on.

Mikey then asked had Raphael went to the sex meeting. Raphael grinned while taking off his boots. "Yeah. I fucked April." He laughed at Mikey's gasp, continuing. "No, not really. I didn't fuck her. I fucked a ball." That confused Mikey but he didn't say anything more about this matter. Then I started to wake up but I feel like I'm forgetting something.

Funny thing was when I woke up there was 55% battery left in my phone and the clock was 15:51 (3:51pm).

[danpuff-ao3]

More Adventures in Bookbinding

My Aries Mercury + Mars really does a gal no favors

Being both a perfectionist but also stubborn + impulsive?? A nightmare.

Following instructions is wise but why be wise when you just know you can figure it out?

Many faux leather sheets and much glue was lost to the cause

I stabbed my finger with my utility knife because of course I did

Eddie was like "yeah I was worried about getting that for you."

(Sir, I am GRACEFUL, DELICATE, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNEW --)

Measuring stuff is the worst, but that's because my brain really hates numbers. The actual math portion is Big Suck. Thank god for Google home who can answer all of my questions when I'm sitting in the middle of chaos, covered in glue, and have lost my phone.

Oh yeah my house is chaos. RIP my super nice and pretty office space, hello madness.

I did however find the white fold up table I knew we had but couldn't find for days. My next project I'm doing on that instead of my desk + cube organizers. And my lap desk. And a stool.

My paper cutter/guillotine has been living in my kitchen because while it technically fits beside my printer, it's best used standing, and I have the best height at the kitchen counter. Hopefully the fold out table will work for this but we shall see.

My "first" technically bound book is done, but it hurts me to call it the first, so I'm calling it the test run. But for the sake of transparency I'm saying "hey I did all steps but I don't want to count this one, please and thank you."

Now it is being used as a way for me to test putting a title on the cover via stencils made with my Cricut + dye markers. So far not so good, but I'm getting closer!

Oh yeah and faux leather? Not the best place to start. It's like I decided to learn a new hobby on hard mode. But on the plus side maybe this means I'll get the hard part out of the way and have an easier time with other fabrics? If I choose to use them because really, I probably spoiled myself with the idea of leather bound books.

That is the reason my tester copy turned out as bad as it did. By the end I was so desperate to get the leather to stick AND have the case fit the text block, that I went overboard and cut my chipboard too wide. Oops.

First rounds with the case (following a tutorial), the cover was a teensy bit too short.

Then by the end I was fighting too hard with the leather to care about much else.

I'd probably be happier with the test run if my measurements hadn't been so off.

Also...wax paper??? I wish someone had told me about wax paper sooner. Now I'm not getting everything stuck with glue.

I'm going to have to buy TWO boxes of wax paper today. One for baking and one for crafting.

I am really bad at gauging how even things are. I think that's ruled by the same bit of my brain as Math Hatred. Further hindered by overthinking and perfectionism. (Nothing is ever straight/even enough 😭)

Oh remember how the first copy is the "test run"? I decided the smart thing to do was to after one failure do two at a time. (Not actually smart, but ah well.)

Current stage: waiting for the leather to dry along the top/bottom edges of the chipboard. Then I get to do it all over again with the side edges.

With luck I'll have measured everything properly this time but we shall see.

Oh yeah: the multiple sources recommending waxed thread?? Bad idea. Or at least buying pre-waxed thread was a bad idea. That stuff is THICK. Easy to work with, but THICK and not pretty at all.

Round 2 I used regular thread and double threaded my needle. Less easy but a better result all around.

On that note: stitching the signatures is my FAVORITE part??

Also poking the holes. Poking holes in paper is very satisfying.

Stitching the text block is very therapeutic. Just me on my couch watching true crime videos and stitching signatures together. A great time was had.

Also, minor complaint, I got leather sheets in a variety pack. Bad idea. One won't fit everything the right way. I ended up having to glue my chipboard to two sheets but the "matching shades" are slightly off from each pack. Most noticeable and horrifying with the white leather. 😭 Will be getting proper rolls next time.

Also new hobby has confirmed that my partner is 100% into my obsessive nature.

100% Eddie is very affectionate when I'm hyper focused on writing, and also when hyper focused on binding. Causes mild annoyance at the disruption, but I choose to be happy about it.

Like hell yes my partner fully appreciates me in my element and is super into me being super into what I love. Like...isn't that precious?? I can put up with disruptions to be loved for doing what I love.

Also: when I stabbed myself with my utility knife? Eddie didn't get home until after I went to bed. So when I woke up due to my finger throbbing, he was in his office unwinding after work. And I was high on sleeping meds and exhausted from a long day of working hard. So I just sorta shuffled all zombie-like into his office and held up my bandaged finger. He very quickly deduced what happened, jumped to attention, examined my wound, re-bandaged it, fed me pain meds, and tucked me back into bed. This probably matters not a wit to you but I adore this man with my whole heart and as I was already gushing about him...why not gush more?

Hopefully my next update will have a success story, but y'know...one thing at a time!

[curiouscornfieldcryptid]

7, 8 ,9

7. what scares you the most and why?

honestly? my own incompetence. my weaknesses. my inability to live up to expectations.

8. any reoccurring dreams?

yeah, but many of them haven’t shown up recently.

the most basic recurring dream is There’s Spiders Everywhere™️ or its variant, There’s A Snake Loose in The House and It’s Gonna Eat My Cat™️.

there’s one in particular that I’ve been having since I was about eleven.

in it, I’m inside the tower of a huge, busted old gothic farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. “nowhere” changes from dream to dream. sometimes it’s on a black cliff overlooking the ocean. sometimes very deep in the forest in the spring or autumn and it’s usually raining. sometimes it’s in the middle of a cornfield that stretches on and on forever.

sometimes I can’t see out the windows at all because they’re coated in dust or because there’s heavy rain obscuring my view, but I get the sense that the house is in a wide-open space.

anyway. the tower walls are lined with shelves, stuffed with big heavy books and specimens of plants, mushrooms, teeth, bones, and minerals. I spend a while staring out the round window or looking at my surroundings.

I exit the tower, walk down a hallway with an incredibly creaky hardwood floor, and descend the staircase. the house is always dark and has a lot of old furniture and books and such. sometimes the furniture is covered with dusty white cloths.

something draws me to the door located beneath the staircase — a noise (music from a string instrument, whispering, or a heavy thud), a golden light coming from beneath the door, or just a feeling.

I open the door and begin descending an enclosed spiral staircase. I can’t see what’s at the bottom of it, but I’m curious to find out.

as soon as I near the bottom, the dream ends and I wake up. the closest I’ve gotten is cracking the door just a tiny bit, which is somehow more frustrating than when I don’t reach the bottom of the stairs at all.

9. tell a story about your childhood

okay listen. it probably won’t surprise you that I desperately wanted to believe in faeries and magic as a kid.

not fairies as in tinkerbell, either. fae folk like this —

so I’d line the windowsills with salt to keep the mischievous ones outside where they belonged. I’d leave pretty rocks and bits of bread or fruit in the little cluster of walnut trees next to my house or beneath the mulberry tree.

I had a superstition about not stepping on mushrooms bc if the mushroom wasn’t a faerie, it was probably a food source or shelter for a faerie or some other creaure.

all of this ended when my parents found out why all the salt was disappearing and basically told me “knock it off. the fae aren’t after you.”

they were probably right, I figured. I seemed to be in good standing with the local sprites. and most of them lived under the neighbor’s willow tree, anyway. I wouldn’t have to deal with those ones.

I stopped leaving presents for the fae and putting salt on the windowsills, but I continued being incredibly respectful of nature and didn’t dare crush a mushroom.

to this day, it’s a running joke in my household that you gotta keep the table salt away from me or I’ll use it as sprite repellant.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - The Delivery

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett

I get a call on Tuesday morning from some dude saying they'll arrive in twenty minutes.

I have no idea what he's talking about but the signal is so bad that I can't really ask.

I assume he called the wrong number and forget about it until a big truck pulls up in front of my house and two guys hop out.

"Emmett Locke? We've got your uh, let's see, washer, dryer and refrigerator. Is your old fridge empty?"

Why the fuck would it be empty?

"There's some..."

Finnegan... no mistake.

Finnegan... fuck.

"We'll start with the washer and dryer, says here there's a basement? Is there a door around back?"

"Can you guys just hold on a minute?"

I need to call Finnegan... now.

"Not really man, got two more before lunch."

The other guy is already opening the back of the truck and unloading shit.

This isn't their fault and I should tell them to leave but my head is sort of spinning and...

"Fine. I'll unlock the back and empty the fridge, door's under the deck."

My fridge isn't that bad, really, it just rattles sometimes when the compressor comes on.

And yes, I have to keep it set to freezing cold and sometimes, in July and August, it gets a little iffy as to whether or not I wanna risk milk that's been in there awhile but I'm used to it.

I pull my cell-phone out as I head to the basement.

Finnegan doesn't answer his cell so I try the office number once I'm back upstairs, using my free hand to toss everything from my fridge onto the counters and table.

What the HELL?

"Good morning, Vice-President Finnegan Walker's line."

"Is he free... it's Emmett Locke."

I'm not sure if she knows who I am or my name but it just comes out.

"I'm sorry, he's in a shareholder meeting, can I take a message? He should finish up just before noon."

Because noon is when we're meeting for lunch.

"No, no thank you."

Emmett has bigger things to deal with than his boyfriend blowing a gasket over some white-good appliances.

Still.

I look out the window and the washer is heading inside.

I know it's the washer because it has a huge round window on the front.

It looks like a fancy one.

They've got it on straps between them and are just carrying it... that always amazes me.

Ten minutes later they're knocking on the front door and I run downstairs to peek while they move the fridge out.

Damn... these are nice.

That makes things more complicated because I would have bought the cheapest little dryer they had.

This set probably cost two grand and paying him back is going to kill me.

Fuck, if the washer and dryer are this fancy, the fridge must be.... I run upstairs.

Holy shit, it's one of those big french refrigerators... is that what they're called?

The top has two doors and then there's a small wide drawer below it and a huge one at the bottom.

It gleams. It's quiet. It's probably already cold. 

It has water and ice in the door. 

I love it. I can't keep it... can I?

But they took mine so... shit.

"Sign here," the man demands, slapping a paper down on the one bit of counter space I still have.

"They're all set up except the fridge water, have to have a plumber run a line. Have a good day," and then they're gone... the truck lumbering up the road.

I spend at least fifteen minutes putting stuff into my new fridge and freezer.

It's so bright and it's huge.

I re-arrange things twice and then figure I'll sort the rest out before I hit the store later.

I have plenty of laundry to do and take a load down, then realize I can fit another half a load in, as well.

The washer is enormous.

I usually wash my really dirty work clothes twice but this has a heavy duty cycle, a pre-wash, an extra rinse and all sorts of things.

The only thing it doesn't do is put the clothes into the dryer when it's done.

Damn, rich folks live nice.

I have no idea what I'm going to do about any of this.

I'm sort of pissed but I can't go into his office and let loose in the middle of his work day.

Emmett did it to be nice... I get that and I know he won't want me to pay him back which will be another battle.

I pull out my cell-phone, hit the Home Depot web site and try to figure out how much he spent.

It doesn't help... the fridge alone probably costs more than all the other appliances in my house combined, well before the new laundry set.

He shouldn't have done this.

It's gotten late and I need to stop by the deli and grab some salads for lunch with Finn and it'll be busy.

When I get to Finnegan's office Megan buzzes him, then she tells me to head right in.

"Hi Emmett."

He looks really happy to see me but his face sours a bit... probably in response to mine.

"Did you get them?"

"Yeah, salads from 'Finches' and four grand worth of appliances. It's been a busy morning."

"Are you mad at me? Please don't be mad, Emmett."

"I am a little but we'll talk about it later. Here you go, lunch."

I hand him the Chef's Salad and then pull mine out as well.

"I wanted to do something nice for you."

I hold in my sigh. 

I know that's why he did it. 

"I would have handled it, Finnegan."

"I know... I know you would have."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

I've been doing it for a long time.

Finnegan walks over and puts his hand on my arm.

"I know that. I know you can take good care of yourself or I wouldn't trust you to take care of me."

Some of the tension slides off of my shoulders.

"I know you were trying to be nice but it's going to take forever for me to pay you back," and put the new car off for another year.

Finnegan scoffs and looks at me like I'm crazy.

"They're a gift, you're not paying me back."

"Finnegan..." I start but he holds his hand up to silence me.

"No. You had a situation that needed to be fixed. I had an easy way to do that. So I did. You would have done the same for me, you know you would have. You DO the same for me all the time."

"I don't throw money at you, Finnegan."

"No, although you're stubborn enough about it to make me crazy. No, you fix things in other ways. You make me laugh, you tell me things are okay, that I'm okay. You help me relax so I can get through the week. You make sure I eat well, do my laundry, make sure I go to doctor appointments, make sure my car is up and running. I have very few ways of doing things for you, okay? Look, it was a lot of money for you and I get that but it's not a big deal for me and you're just going to have to accept that."

Okay, he has a point.. several points.

"I don't like you spending money on me."

"Get over it. I bought you a t-shirt at the zoo and you didn't mind too much."

"Because... that was fifteen bucks."

"$19.99, Emmett. $19.99."

He's... he's... why am I laughing?

"There's not much difference to me, Emmett and I promise that I can still pay my rent this week."

"I know. I just wish you had talked to me about it first."

Finnegan nods.

"Yeah, I should have. I thought about it but I knew you'd argue. Still, I should have. I will next time... if you promise to a least think about it and try to be reasonable."

"Next time?"

"Hey, I didn't buy the matching dishwasher, microwave and stove and let me tell you. I wanted to get you the whole pretty set. I may still do it, can I?"

"No." 

Not that it wouldn't look sweet as hell.

"You didn't even think about it Emmett but maybe you'll think better with your cock down my throat. I'm more than happy to let you take out some frustration on me while you reconsider."

The little brat... he's such a little shit.

"No... I'm mad at you."

But not really, well maybe... no, no... I'm not.

Just sort of unhappy with the whole situation.

I've decided to be mostly mad at my dryer for breaking in the first place.

I cross my arms over my chest and he laughs.

"You sound like a little. Now just keep your hands there and out of my way."

"Finnegan. Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. I just headed up a shareholder meeting and the only thing that got me through it was thinking about you and this. I have interviews this afternoon for a new head of accounting and I need, capital N E E D, some of you if I have any hope of making it through. Please Emmie?  You got your delivery today and now I need mine."

He's on his knees, waiting and I sort of like him there like that. 

"I brought you lunch."

"Yes, you did but I need dessert too. I'm a very hungry boy."

Apparently today won't be the day I learn to say no to him either. 

[byuntrash101]

Baekhyunie don't leave me - Part 3

Pairing: Barista!Baekhyun x You Genre: Mafia!AU, action, angsttttt, smuttttt Tags: warning this part contains a cross over between LA privé showcase Baek (yes with the silk shirt) and blonde blooming days Baek and yes your heart will explode. Oh! and also oral (f), fingering (f), orgasm denial, dirty talkkkk (Baekhyun is nastyyy 🤪) unprotected sex, virginity loss, light degradation, corruption kink, sir kink, BIG cock, squirting, orgasm control, creampie 🌸 🌼🌷 🌹 🌻 Raiting: +18 Word count: 5.6k Summary: Don’t trust anything in this story. Don’t trust the cute bright cover, don’t trust the handsome playful flirty barista and do not trust the cute innocent timid girl. Concept: the inspiration comes from a song: Bust Your Knee Caps by Pomplamoose.

A/N: Hiiii!! There is the long awaited part 3. I decide to switch out my lay out to see if this was going to affect my visibility in the tags. I hope you guys like this part. It was very difficult to find the time to work on this part (even though i only had to proofread) BUT!! it's finally here and i'm prety pleased with it. Please support me with reblogs and comments if you can since my post don't seem to show in the tags (thx tumblr) you guys are all i have 💖 - Cat 😸

Baekhyunie don’t leave me masterlist | General masterlist

<< Part 2 | Part 4 >>

You made sure everything was perfect for him, for Baekhyun. You gave a last look around the appartement to make sure everything was set and done. The gift you prepared for him was nicely wrapped and sat on the console in the hall. The kitchen was spotless, the budae jjigae was patiently simmering on the stove. The table was nicely set in the living room. You bought especially for the occasion a small round table, perfect for two.

You chose to make traditional Korean stew for a reason. Firstly, it was one of your signature dishes. And of course you wanted to impress Baekhyun. The second reason was much more practical… It required minimum attending. Once the sausages, onions and various vegetables were cut and placed in the pot you were able to actually take care of the bigger workside that is to say your appearance. Your main goal: NOT to look like a psycho bloodthirsty mobster.

When the food was simmering away you were finally able to take a nice hot and thorough shower. This step was the most important one. It was top priority to get the blood from underneath your nail plate and the irony smell out of your hair. Most people don’t know but the smell of blood when you’re confined with it in such a tight space for so long, can really stick to oneself. So you scrubbed yourself meticulously. You used your favorite berry scented shampoo and you finally felt fresh when you hopped out the shower.

You wanted to impress Baekhyun. That much was true, yes. But not only with your cooking skills. You wanted to wow him. You pestered for a good half an hour on what you should or rather what you should not wear. After trying countless combinations you settled on a cute flowy summer dress. But unlike the ones you wear most of the time this one was more singed at the waist and under your breast which lifted their shape slightly, it looked flirty but not revealing either. Well behaved but not muted.

The print accentuated the feminine aspect of it. It had a beautiful nude color with deep burgundy red roses on it. At the hips the dress switched from being close-fitted to a nice flowey round skirt which gracefully floated to the middle of your thighs revealing just enough skin to want to see more. With this you paired a beautiful pair of high heeled sandals with thin brown leather straps that wrap around your ankles and slightly up your calves. The shoes elongated your legs and gave that extra sultry vibe to the look.

To dress up your decolletage you chose a fine gold chain with a discreet single diamond pendant and small gold button earrings.

You were not very used to wearing makeup but you still managed to whip up a natural look with discreet gold eyeshadow at the center of your lids, illuminated complexion with a pop of concealer and blush. And a cherry lip gloss that added a nice highlight and made your lips appear fuller.

You figured you might as well wear your hair in an updo because you knew you were going to continue cooking and you didn’t want to constantly keep brushing the hair out of your eyes. Plus that hairdo would allow your earrings to be shown.

Finally as the last (and maybe most important) step you picked your favorite perfume to finish off the look. An expensive and sensual fragrance of exquisite jasmine, sandalwood and mirabelle, a fragrance you would have to import directly from Sicily everytime you would run out.

And with that the look was complete. Nervousness suddenly hit you when you were finally done and your mind had nothing to think about but the incredibly handsome, infinitely gorgeous and astonishingly good looking man that was shortly arriving to take your virginity.

Your guts contorted into a tight knot when you thought about the eventuality of this late evening… Thankfully the sultry lingery set that you were wearring contrasted nicely with the cute dress you picked out. That gave you enough confidence to shake your head and puff your chest in the mirror. You smiled to yourself tucking away a rebellious strand of hair back in your bun.

When suddenly the awaited (and dreaded) doorbell rang. The whole appartement fell silent. Not even the boiling jjigae dared to make noise. Not even the busy Seoul streets. Not even your thumping heart.

“It’s okay y/n…” you breathed in and out deeply, closing your eyes and laying a trembling hand on your chest “you’re going to be fine”.

You walked or rather staggered to the front door to open up. When your feeble hand pulled on the doorknob and you laid eyes on him you held on tight to the poor metal handle just to make sure you were still holding onto reality.

Because there was no way in all heavens that Baekhyun wasn’t just an angel sent from above to grace you.

He was out of this world. He was wearing a white and navy silk shirt with text prints on it, even though it was a button down Baekhyun cunningly chose to not fasten many of them. The silver chains dangling low on his chest inexorably pulled your gaze down to the thin skin between his pecs (which he didn't fail to notice of course). He paired the shirt with tight black jeans that were perfectly hugging his robust thighs, the slim cut making his legs appear even longer. The fact that he wasn’t wearing that brown apron to hide away all these gorgeous features was completely and utterly unfair to your frail and inexperienced heart.

When you mustered the courage to finally look at his face the single dangling earring caught your eye first then the trendy black metal circled glasses and the slicked back blonde hair and finally the small smirk that was playing on his lips and when he noticed the slight tremble of your lip.

He looked absolutely deadly…

“You don’t look bad either” he said, practically reading your mind. His eyes trailing from the high heeled sandals and working their way up your legs to the stem of the dress to the curve of your waist to the fine gold chain resting on your collarbones and finally your eyes.

You thickly gulped down while he licked his lips seductively.

“May I come in?” he asks while stepping into your personal space. You catch a faint whiff of his cologne before you clumsily stumble back to let him in while he steps into the hall. A rich, earthy smell of burnt wood and vanilla, and of course, the sub aroma of coffee.

You tried your hardest not to decompose before his eyes and rapidly started speaking just to keep your mind from wandering too far.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses” you blurted out, speaking of the first thing that came to your mind.

“Well yeah… I have terrible eyesight” he said while squinting adorably and bringing his face close to yours. “I figured I might wear them to make sure I can see how pretty you were. '' He said, his face coming dangerously close to you and your heart started to race when your eyes trailed down to his pink pouty lips, instantly reminded of their soft cushiony feeling on yours. “Naah… I’m just joking” he said standing back up straight chuckling to himself, satisfied of sweeping you off your feet with only a supported look in your direction. “I only wore them for fashion” he wiggled his eyebrows amusingly and you laughed along with the much needed comedic relief.

“Well anyways it smells so good in here. What did you cook up for me baby?” he said, his deep voice dripping with honey. You definitely love it when he calls you baby.

“I made army stew” you shyly replied, averting his gaze.

“Oh I love a good budae jjigae” he says excitedly, eyes creasing cutely.”But” he spotted the wrapped box on the console. “What's that?” he pointed at the box.

“Oh I almost forgot” you swiftly grabbed the box and handed it to him. “I got this for you”

“For me?” he pointed at himself while delicately taking the box with his other hand.

“Yeah”

He carefully pulled on the knots and untied the ribbons then ripped the wrapping to uncover a brand new high end smartphone.

“Y/n… Are you serious?”

You couldn't make of Baekhyun’s reaction. He didn’t look happy, which was a surprise. Actually you can't tell what he feels at all.

“Well…I… I thought that this was better than your old phone that can’t even display your number when you call or send text. Sooo… I figured I might as well get you a new one” you sounded apologetic, almost regretful.

“Thank you” he finally said, beaming at you with such brightness.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah of course it’s just that you shouldn't have… these are pricey” he said instinctively checking for the tag on the box.

“Don’t worry it’s not much for me” you carelessly said, which Baekhyun doesn’t seem to hear.

You proceeded to step in the living room. And Baekhyun was instantly taken aback by the luxury of the room.

“Y/n you told me you lived in an apartment! Not a penthouse!” He exclaimed, eyes dashing all over, taking in the opulence of the place. You laughed at his cute reaction. It’s true that you’ve been so accustomed to nice things that you don’t even notice them anymore.

“My dad got it for me recently” You said bashfully scratching the back of your head. And even if Baekhyun couldn’t possibly guess with that phrase alone what kind of activity your family was involved in, your guts still twisted in worry. The fact that this place was a gift from your father was the exact reason why it was so extravagant.

Your dad lived in a big mansion just outside the city, every corner of the place had rococo decor. Big Renaissance fountains and statues in the hall. Gold plated plumbing in the many bathrooms, high ceilings, black russian marble on the floor. The house was so conspicuous about the wealth of the people residing in it that it felt almost like a parody.

You on the other hand were the complete opposite. You always thought you got this from your mother. Before she died you lived with her in Sicily. You occupied a nice, rather big it’s true, villa. The place was comfortable and spacious but it was rather minimalistic. Nothing sparkled with gold and diamonds. It was more elegant. That's what you liked most. That was why, for instance, you wore discreet and modest looking clothes even if they were designer and made from the finest fabric they were still wearable and unnoticeable for the unseasoned eye.

So even if your dad made tremendous efforts not to slip into his faults, the appartement still had his personal grandiose touch.

“How about I let you have a stroll around the place while I serve the food?” you suggested with a smile and Baekhyun was quick to agree, almost instantly disappearing in the corridor.

While you were busy serving him a generous portion of stew you heard him yell from afar.

“That jacuzzi looks amazing!!!”

You chuckled to yourself and proceeded to serve yourself a bowl too.

“Y/n, I found that in one of the bedrooms.” he said holding a gold watch.

“Yeah it’s my father’s" you said, stirring the stew with the chopsticks while Baekhyun got seated.

“This gold rolex is your father's?” oddly, his voice sounded harsh which made you look up at him. His eyes are once again unfathomable, he stares back at you with that blank expression you can’t read.

“Yeah, he helped me move around some furniture in my bedroom and he forgot it here”

Baekhyun set the watch to the side. And when he lifted his eyes up again, their usual glow was back.

“I mean the apartment… the rolex...What does he do for a living?”

Your heart stopped.

The question made you freeze for a second as you sunk a piece of sausage to the bottom of the bowl, doing your best to not look suspicious of anything. Even if you prepared for that it still took you aback.

“Well, you know, it’s a small family business” you just vaguely responded, keeping your eyes on the stew.

“Well looks like business is really good” he said, opening his mouth wide, laughing with that crystal clear laugh that you love so much. A sound that melts the anxiety of the loaded question right away. Then he brought a big spoon full of the broth to his mouth. He didn't even bother blowing on it and shoved it in his mouth, closed his eyes and frowned. You couldn't tell whether it was because he got third degree burnt or because the taste of the broth was horrendous.

“So how is it?” you hesitantly asked, nervousness seeping from your word.

“Delicious! Oh my god!! Wow.” He went right away for seconds. “The food is too distracting right now but don't go thinking I didn’t catch you changing the subject” he said with a mouthful while you giggled awkwardly.

It filled your heart to the brim to see him enjoy the food you prepared with love for him.

“Well eat your heart out because I made six servings” you laughed joyfully. Then you heard a buzzing sound. Immediately Baekhyun set his chopsticks and spoon down to get his old phone out of his pockets. His eyes briefly swept through the screen, maybe reading a text before he shoved it back in his pocket and merily went back to spoon out some of the borth.

“Wooow” he exclaimed again, smacking his lips.

You laughed again.

Baekhyun ended up taking three full bowls of jjigae you never noticed before because you never stuck around in the shop long enough but when he eats he cutely hums songs happily as he stuffs his cheeks full. Baekhyun is not the shy eater type. He will try to fit 3 pieces of pork belly at once in his mouth and succeed most of the time which was an impressive skill.

The whole evening was going rather smoothly. Baekhyun was easy going and fun to hang out with. You almost forgot why he was here and what this night was leading to. You felt at ease with him. Happily chatting away, listening to his funny nonsense or complaining about annoying customers or even giving you interesting anecdotes on how he started his business. You loved the way his eyes lightened up when he was talking about what pasionnated him.

Baekhyun truly was a businessman. He knew about the stakes of good suppliers, customer relations and general management. Baekhyun showed great promise and you knew that in time, he would make a great head of the family by your side. The ruthlessness of your particular field of work was the only thing he was missing but there was plenty of time for that, plenty of time to ease him into the family business. And now definitely wasn’t the time.

But then your train of thought was interrupted by his phone, again.

Punctually his phone would buzz in his pocket and most of the time, he would ignore it but sometimes he would take it out and type a brief response.

Who is it?

The question was burning your lips and you wanted to ask so badly but your father didn’t raise you to be nosey. In fact, he raised you to be the exact opposite so you kept your indiscreet mouth shut.

As Baekhyun set his phone back in his pocket he raised his eyes back to you.

“Don’t worry baby it’s no one important”

Is he reading your mind ?

“Just checking the time you know” your heart sunk in your stomach. You immediately looked up at the clock hanging on the wall behind him. Almost midnight, it read.

“Sorry I should let you head home” you must be boring him you thought to yourself. Of course you were.

“No” he said, his voice shifting again, reminding you of the tone he used in the shop just yesterday. “I was just wondering when it was going to be time for desert”

Fuck…

Your heart jumped from the bottom of your stomach to your throat, over excitedly pumping boiling blood and adrenaline through your veins, making your cheeks and chest burn.

“Are you blushing baby girl?” he whispered while he leaned in over the table closing in the distance between you. “You’re so fucking cute”.

“Thank you” you squeaked, embarrassing yourself which made Baekhyun chuckle.

“Are you daydreaming about all the nasty stuff I texted you about?” you stayed frozen solid as you lost track of yourself in his dark brown orbs. He kept on leaning in, you licked your lips nervously and Baekhyun’s eyes instantly shifted down to them.

“You want me to make your dreams come true Princess?” Now his lips were grazing over your wet ones. This simple little touch sent a shot of electrifying sparks in your core. You nodded your head slowly.

“Say it” he whispered even quieter now as his warm hand slipped beneath the table and under your flowy dress, fingertips brushing over the thin skin of your inner thigh. You couldn't help but let out a meek little whimper which made him smirk. “Say it, princess” he repeated, his hand continuing to progress on your thigh until he reached the delicate lace lining of your panties. Not quite touching you yet. So close but yet so far.

“Please make my dream true, sir” you huffed, giving in, surrendering yourself without putting up much of a fight.

“Good girl"

Suddenly he crashed his lips on yours, kissing you passionately, prying your mouth open to taste you, not letting you time to protest but even if you could have it was never your intention. You waited long enough for that. And you chose him. With him it finally felt right.

Baekhyun’s pointer finger pressed precisely on your clit, applying pleasurable pressure on it, making you gasp and bang your knee on the table, nearly knocking over your half full bowl. as he put more pressure on it. Not giving you the satisfaction of friction just yet. Just driving you even crazier with desire. So in a shameful and unpremeditated reflex you bucked your hips against his single finger.

Immediately he retracted his hand and broke the kiss. You bit your lips in regret as you opened your eyes back up to look at him. A familiar evil twinkle was dancing in his eyes.

“What a naughty girl” he wrapped a firm hand around your nape. “Grinding her little pussy against me like this” the remark made you blush in embarrassment.

“Blushing again?” he asked, this time practically growling. “You’re really trying to make me go insane.”

At once he got up, making his chair fall back, he harshly lifted you up by the arm and flipped you over his shoulder with ease. Caring your body like it was nothing but a mear feather.

He walked through the living room and hall with big strides and tossed you on the bed, earning a yelp from you. He didn’t even bother to switch on the light, only keeping the door open, the lighting from the hall making the atmosphere incredibly intimate.

“Take this flimsy dress off. Now. Keep the heels” his tone was demanding and impatient. So much so that even the crippling fear of what you were about to do was swept away and replaced by the fear of disobeying your master’s orders.

You opened the zip in the back of your dress and just let it slide off your body, revealing the burgundy lingerie set you carefully picked out for him.

“Fuck" he swore under his breath as his eyes trailed down your high heeled scadals to the curved you thighs and your chest hidden away in the beautiful bra and finally to your glistening collarbones.

You swallowed thickly at the sight of the tent he was so visibly pitching in his pants, making it look incredibly uncomfortable.

“Fucking lace?” he asked, hands going to the navy blue silk shirt. “Only sluts wear lace” he grunted rapidly, shedding every piece of clothing he had. Even the tight boxers, making his thick and hard cock spring up and stand tall.

He looked glorious, the light from the hall was casting his large shadow on the wall, the silver chains and necklaces hanging low on his chest pulling your eyes further down to the incredible cock you were so vividly remembering from yesterday, your mouth instinctively watering.

“Spread your legs” he ordered and you did. Fat cock in hand he stood on his knees and harshly pulled on your hips to take you closer to him, you let out another whimper.

His hot tip touched your clothed little pussy, aiming directly at the sensitive bud. Baekhyun took a wicked pleasure in making teasing slow circles. As close to you as he was, the miniscule ply of fabric between you was way too much. So you whimpered again.

When his tip pressed on you, you suddenly got nervous.

“Please… I-... Baekhyun… I’ve never” you stumbled on your words.

“Don’t worry princess” he smiled reassuringly at you “I’ll make you nice and ready for me”.

He pulled on your legs and brought your hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you. He laid gentle kisses on your pubic bone before catching the lace between his teeth. He looked back up at you with the same eyes you saw in the shop, the same blazing desire that made your center quiver in anticipation.

He slid the panties down to your ankles where it hung on one of your feet.

“Will you be a good girl for me baby ?” he asked, voice strained and heavy while he eyed down your thighs tightly pressed together.

“Y-yes sir” you murmured, goosebumps rising on your bare skin.

“Then let me see your beautiful little pussy and spread your legs for me baby.”

With a shaky breath you parted your thighs slowly and as your knees got further and further apart Baekhyun’s smirk got wider and wider.

“Fuck” he breathed out eyes fixed on your aching, quivering center. His breath tickled your intimate parts as he leaned in. “Dessert is fucking served” he whispered before digging in. Instantly, he aimed his tongue at the swollen bud.

The contact of his wet and cool tongue made you arch your back, sinking your head back in the plushy mattress.

“Fuck you taste so good babydoll” he said not parting himself from you, vibrations pulling a sharp breath out your trembling lips.

This feels different from anything you’ve ever done to yourself; it has no comparison at all.

“You like my mouth on your soaked little pussy?” he asked teasingly, slowing down the pace, gently sucking on your sensitive nub.

“Yes, sir” you cried out, taking out the frustration of this slow pace onto the sheets, fisting them angrily.

“What about this?” he slipped one slender finger inside your narrow little pussy. Your lips rounded up in surprise as you hoisted yourself up on your elbows, wanting to see his face.

“Fuck” you swore when you felt his blunt nail pushed deep inside you, rubbing circles on your sweet spot.

“Aw baby! Does that feel good?”

You only nodded as a response, your eyes starting to prickle with tears as he started to pump his finger in and out, slowly at first but rapidly picking up the pace to a point where you couldn’t help but to let small whimpers fill out the space between the two of you.

“Aw baby you’re so cute getting overwhelmed with just one finger” he chuckled. “Are you sure your virgin little pussy can handle me?” Once again your distressed mind is unable to come up with words to form an answer but this time he stopped when you didn’t reply anything back.

“Yes!! Yes!!” you breathed out hurriedly when you felt the peasure gradually lessen, deserepatly, longing for him to finger fuck you again.

“What a good girl” he said as he slipped another finger inside.

“Oh my god” you cried again, this time you couldn't help two big tears to roll down your burning cheeks. You felt yourself deliciously stretch to his liking. One finger was easy but two was something else. A dull and muted pain made you wince. Baekhyun moved very gently, taking his time to stretch you properly. When you started to relax he leaned in again to wrap his mouth around your swollen clit.

“Fuck baby you taste delicious” he growled. Gradually the pain turned into pleasure and he picked up the pace again. Fingers furiously pumping in and out of you while his tongue skilfully circled your clit. Everything worked perfectly together like well oiled machinery. Rapidly taking you to your peak like an ever ascending rollercoaster.

“Are you going to cum my princess?” Baekhyun teased you.

“Yes!!” you almost screamed, nails digging at the mattress, practically tearing the sheets.

“I’ve never seen a virgin cunt so fucking eager” he said while digging one pointy tooth on your clit, pulling a loud gasp off your lips, making your walls throb around his diggits. “Fuck! What a dirty little cunt you have here. Sucking on my finger like this” he picked up the pace again and combined with the dirty talk you were done for.

But he abruptly pulled his fingers out your desperate little pussy.

“No baby” he said firmly “Good girls only cum on my cock”

Instantly you missed how full he was making you feel but nonetheless you nodded. Ready to comply with anything and everything Baekhyun said, completely wrapped around his fingers.

When he got back up his length was beet red, precum dripping down his shaft as the thick member twitched menacingly. He gripped you down and tossed you further on the bed, making room for himself between your parted thighs.

He gathered your wetness coating the tip and the shaft with your overflowing juices. Your heart loudly thumped in your chest when you peeked at the huge hard cock making its way to your entrance.

“S-should we use protection?” you stuttered. Baekhyun looked up at you again, his eyes were puzzled for a second.

“Aren't you on the pill?” he asked, lying still on top of you.

“Humm… Yeah” you said, averting your eyes.

That was a big fat lie

“But I mean still…” you continued hazardously. Mischief returned in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“Don't you trust me, Princess?” he started to rub small and teasing circles on your clit with his blazing hot and raw tip, you bit your lip down trying not to moan.

“Aaah… Y-Yes I do” you whimpered, pleasure making you forget about all your concerns.Well almost of all of them. Because when Baekhyun pressed his tip at your entrance you questioned him again.

“Will it fit?” you finally asked the question burning your lips, the one that has been stirring your stomach inside out ever since you got to witness the width and length of Baekhyun. Ever since you first gagged on his big fat cock.

Baekhyun’s mischievousness is gone. Only burning, raging desire filled his dark orbs now.

“Don’t worry baby… I’ll make sure it fits”

With that he finally pushed himself past your entrance.

The first few centimeters are the most painful. The thick head of the member, stretching your untouched pussy to a level you never thought could be possible. You winced in pain and bit down on your lip, eyes tightly shut. Slowly but surely Baekhyun found the bottom of you, finally linking your hips and his.

Your legs trembled when you felt his breath tickle the crook of your neck. The pain was unbearable, making your eyes water once again and your breath hitch in your throat.

“Fuck! You’re so fucking tight Princess” he growled in your ear while tears rolled down your cheeks.

“You’re so big… It hurts” you let out in a small sob, trying your best to accept him in your inexperienced center.

“Don’t worry baby it’ll feel good soon” he said gently brushing a strand of hair away. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise”

He gently pulled out almost completely, only the very tip of him was still hanging from your core. And he pushed back in, as gently as before. This time around was a little less painful and you were able to keep your eyes open just to see his face beautifully contort in pleasure as his eyebrows both met on his forehead. He bit on his lip, grunting while he filled you up again.

When his tip, pushed deep inside you, started to rub against your sweet spot, goosebumps erupted from your skin, the unexpected pleasure pulled a moan out of your strained throat.

He repeated the process each time it felt a little better, each time a little bit faster. Until it felt actually divine. You can’t believe how he got you screaming his name in a matter of minutes.

“Fuck baby, you like my cock this much?” he breathed out, half moaning as he furiously pounded into you.

“Yes Sir”

“Fuck what a fucking slut you are. Virgin cunt dripping and gripping on my cock like this?” he grunted nails digging at our sides. “Say you’re my little slut”

“I’m your little slut Sir”

“Good girl” he growled. “That’s right you’re mine. Only mine” he rewarded you with more punishing and divine thrusts inside your exhausted little body.

“Please” you cried out.

“Please what?” he said, not sparing any rest to your pussy.

“Please Sir let me cum” you sniffled, out of breath.

“What a good girl, begging like a good little whore” he said smirking at your miserable state while your pussy once again flirted with the edge. “You’ll only cum when I’ll tell you too”

“Pleaseee” you begged again, knowing you couldn't go on for long.

One of his hands left your waist to grab a fistful of your hair, harshly pulling on it. The sting made your core clench, gripping even harder on every centimeters of Baekhyun’s thick cock pounding inside you to rearrange your guts.

“Are you that fucking deseperate for my cum?” he growled, unforgiving hips still smashing yours.

“Yes please give me your cum” you begged him, knowing his release also meant yours.

“You want to milk my cum to the last drop right, slut?”

“Yes I’m a little slut hungry for your cum Sir” you moaned out, screaming and panting. This time you couldn’t hold it back.

“Cum for me. Now!” Baekhyun ordered and you gladly complied. Finally letting go of the knot that has been building up in your core for what felt like days. You felt the gushing of your cum being sprayed out of your core, soaking Baekhun’s muscular chest and the sheets. The overwhelming feeling took over you, rushing burning heat from your core to your chest, neck and face. The powerful orgasm swept you off your feet like never before. Never you were able to give yourself something similar.

“Oh my god Yes I’m cumming” you cried out while Baekhyun growled and pumped you full of piping hot cum, filling you up and eventually overflowing in a cascade completely coating your shapeless little pussy all the way down to your ass.

His thrusts gradually became more shallow as he hung his jaw open, finally grasping his own release. When he pulled out you felt a pool of your mixed up cum forming underneath you as Baekhyun crashed next to you.

“Fuck” he panted next to you before reaching out to you and nesting your exhausted and worned out body between his arms.

It doesn't take long before you both wandered off into a deep slumber, your heated cheeks resting against his damp chest, his calm heartbeats playing a soothing lullaby to your ears.

You are surprised to wake up all by yourself the next morning. For a second you imagined that all of this was just a dream. But it was before you shifted on your side and felt the slimy results of last night still coating your thighs and the soreness deep inside your core.

So maybe he just bailed on you…

Of course he did, he used you to get what he wanted and left. How could it have been different? He is perfect in every way amd you're just so… bland. So maybe this was your best shot at him. That was what your insecurities told you.

But right when worry was taking over your frantic heart your phone buzzed.

Last night was amazing, babygirl. Sorry I had to leave to open up shop… Maybe don’t come or call today because I’ll be too busy and I can’t afford to get distracted by your cute little face. It’ll be hard enough to think of your stunning naked body under me or the cute little sounds that you make when you beg me… Fuck i’m already geting of track anyways… I’ll text you later baby.

ily

-Baekhyun

Wait… ily as in “I love you” this is the best day ever… and he used the phone. And finally Baekhyun has a name in your phone too. He didn't have to think for too long when you thought his beautiful warm caramel brown doe eyes it felt like an evidence.

Bambi 🦌

Tag list:  @lovebuginlove @calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @nana-banana @mingiandbaconjam @chanyeolscoon @buttercupbbh @shesdreaminginoverdose @jennxx3 @byuntrash-ficrec @pvtbbh @bimbimbbam @xzyxbbh @thegreatandi @multistan30 @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @jave-05-little-doll @yutornado

Tell me if you want to be added/removed

A/N : Here you go I hope you enjoyed! I'm sorry for being so chaotic in my uploads. But my honestly my blog is as messy as my life. Im just running up and down and left to right trying to do everything within the 24hour limit of each day. It's hectic I tell ya! hectic! hahah Anywayw I can't wait to move into the new house and have things settle down a bit.

<< Part 2 | Part 4 >>

Baekhyunie don’t leave me masterlist | General masterlist

[lsvdw-blog]

Drained (3/?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings; Rating: Angst; General

Premise: Serena makes moves and Ethan finds out.

Author’s Note: I'm sorry ☠️ I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖 **HSM reference included

Serena comes to a halt in the middle of a crosswalk. Rebecca continues to lay out the terms of the contract, but time stands still as Serena drones out, shocked.

An offer. 

This is exactly what she wanted. A dream come true for her younger self.

So why does she feel so conflicted? 

~~~~~~

Serena hangs up the phone just as she’s stepping into her apartment, all of her roommates, along with Bryce and Rafael, are gathered in the living room, watching a movie. 

She stands at the edge, absorbing the laughter and camaraderie filling the space. Silently taking in what she would be giving up. 

Although becoming Head of the Diagnostics Team has been far from what she expected, she’s comfortable here — it’s familiar. She knows the ins and outs of Edenbrook now, a far cry from the intern that got lost in the hallways. She has an incredible friend group that would drop everything if she needed them. She knows the language, the culture, the unspoken rules and etiquette. 

She’d go from a three hour flight home to being across the ocean. She’d miss birthdays, holidays, and impromptu get-togethers. She'd miss the mundane things: days out in Boston Common, going on shopping trips with the girls, getting lost in the farmer's markets. 

But this was something she had wanted her entire life. What she’d worked nearly a decade for. 

By everyone else’s standards, for anyone on the outside looking in, she’s flourished in her three and half years at Edenbrook. Yet she feels like a trained falcon: tethered and only able to fly when told how high and how far.

She owes it to herself to make her dream a reality, to spread her wings, and not only fly, but soar.

Her eyes grow misty the longer she stands there, contemplating all of the things that would change. It isn’t until she’s deep in her spiral that Elijah calls out her name. 

“Serena, are you okay?” 

The backlight from the television reflects the tears in her eyes. “I’m really gonna miss you guys.” 

Understandably, she’s met with a room full of confused expressions. While they know about her struggles as Head of the Diagnostics Team, they don’t know about the events of the last forty-eight hours. 

Serena walks towards them, plopping down in the middle of the floor, and begins to fill them in. 

By that night, Serena had signed a year-long contract, shipping out in six weeks. 

~~~~~~

The next few days are a blur: making phone calls to potential movers and storage unit companies and having conversations with her new team. 

It seems as though Ethan finally took the hint that she wanted space. His interactions are gentle, but few and far in between. 

Serena knows it’s not fair to keep him in the dark, but she’s still too hurt and overwhelmed to bring herself to do the right thing.

Ethan interprets her space as her just needing to work through it first, that she’d be ready to talk soon.

How wrong he was. 

~~~~~~

“Great work today, Carrick. There might be some hope left for you after all.” 

Tobias chuckles. 

“Gotta keep the lead on her toes!” He does a little boxing move, causing Serena to laugh. “This will be my team before you know it.” 

Serena sobers at that comment, remembering the big news she has yet to share with anyone other than her family and roommates. 

Tobias notices the sudden change in energy, a cloud of sadness settling over them. 

“Tobias… take a seat. There’s something we need to discuss.” 

His brows furrow and his head tilts to the side in confusion as they both take a seat at the round table. Serena huffs out a long breath, sitting with her back ramrod straight, hands clasped in front of her. Any and all traces of joviality are gone.

“This should be your team."

“Serena, I was just kidding. You know I respect you as Hea—”

“I know. This has nothing to do with that. I wasn't ready then and I'm not ready now."

“You’re doing a fanta—”

Serena's hand shoots up to interrupt him. 

“It's okay. I know you see the way I’m being treated and have heard some… not very nice things said about me.” 

“Well, yeah, but they’re all just boomers who have a stick wedged so far up their asses that they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a decent human being.” 

Serena snorts. “While that may be true, you know it’s more than that.”

Tobias leans forward, placing a hand over Serena’s that she hasn't stopped wringing. 

He looks at her earnestly. “You are doing an amazing job. And when have you ever cared what other people think? I say fuck ‘em.” 

“If only it were that easy.” 

She brings a hand out from under his, placing it on top. 

“It has been made very clear, time and time again, that I am not wanted here.” 

“That’s not tru—”

“I’ve accepted another position.” 

Tobias blinks rapidly at Serena. 

“With Médecins Sans Frontières.”

His jaw goes slack.  

“In Myanmar.”

At this, Tobias’ eyes look like they’re about ready to pop out of his head. 

“No.” 

“What?”

“I reject this.”

“Tobias… This is something I need to do.”

“You’re an invaluable member of this hospital! Anyone who means anything knows that — I know that, the DT knows that, the Chief—”

At that, Serena scoffs and rolls her eyes. 

“No, he doesn’t.” 

“What are you ta—”

“I’ve already signed the contract. I’ll deploy in five weeks.”

“What?”

A booming voice echoes around the room. Serena jumps backwards, extricating her hands from Tobias’, and looks at the floor. 

This is so not the way I wanted to tell him. 

Serena gives Tobias a curt nod, letting him know that it’s okay for him to leave the room. 

“Page me if you need anything,” he whispers before exiting. 

“Serena, what the hell is going on?”

“Ethan, sit down.”

“No! I’m not going to ‘sit down.’ Tell me what’s going on right now.” 

Serena sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ve accepted a position with Médecins Sans Frontières in Myanmar. I start in five weeks, so you can count this as my four week notice.” 

“Is this one of those pranks from social media that I don’t understand?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” 

“Well, you must be. You were just made Head of the Diagnostics Team! This is your dream job.”

“It was. It’s not anymore.”

“Oh, but moving to Myanmar is?!” 

Serena gets out of her chair. “You’re missing the point.” 

“Then enlighten me!”

Ethan knows he needs to get a grip and control his emotions, but the utter fear coursing through him is paralyzing.

“I have been so busy supporting you in the last three years that I lost sight of myself.

“And I’m not saying it’s your fault, it’s not, I happily put you first. I wanted to put you first. With Naveen, Louise, Edenbrook possibly shutting down, everything. 

“But I had always dreamed of leaving our planet a better place than we’d found it. Of traveling the world while volunteering with different organizations… Did you even know that?" Serena whispers.

“You’re making a difference here.” 

Serena shakes her head furiously. “It’s not the same! Life kept getting in the way and I lost myself in the process, don't you see?!” 

“So what?! You felt sorry for me, is that it?! You saw me as some pet project — someone you could fix and mold into your perfect vision, so you stayed. My savior." 

The word drips with disdain, mockery, disgust.

Ethan expects Serena to yell obscenities at him, but when she speaks, eyes locked on his, she's deathly calm. 

Which causes Ethan to become even more frantic.

"I never wanted to save you. You were never broken, not to me. The things you see as flawed and jagged all fit together perfectly to create you. 

"'The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.' And you, as a whole, as your entire being, is the man I fell in love with.

"But my love for you has nothing to do with the struggles I've faced in my short tenure as lead. 

"I've done my absolute best to carry this team to new heights, to carry on the legacy and the mission. But it's become practically impossible to do when everyone in this hospital constantly undermines me, questions my competence, and makes bets on when I'll fail." 

"Not everyone. I don't—"

Ethan is interrupted by a barking laugh of disbelief. 

"It seems you've already forgotten, so let me remind you." 

~ 2 Months Ago ~

Serena exhaustedly walks through the door of Ethan’s apartment, the tail-wagging greeting of Jenner always a welcome, and much needed, dose of serotonin. 

Ethan follows closely behind the golden retriever, greeting Serena with a lopsided grin and kiss.

They have a nightly routine whenever she stays over, which is more often than not nowadays, and tonight is no different.  

Ethan notices that Serena is quieter than usual as they go through their ritual. He doesn’t bring it up, but keeps a close eye on her, ready to talk if and when she feels ready. 

Cuddled up on the couch after dinner, watching some brain-numbing show, is when Serena decides it's a good time. She pushes herself off of Ethan’s chest and sits criss-cross applesauce as she turns to face him. Her hands are in her lap, fidgeting in nervousness, internally trying to hype herself up. 

Ethan places one hand over hers in a reassuring gesture, patiently waiting for her to speak. 

“I’ve, uh—” Serena clears her throat. “I’ve been having some management challenges. Senior personnel in other departments have created a hostile work environment that isn’t letting me adequately step into the role as Head of the Diagnostics Team.

“There is no level of trust and this is shown day in and day out, in any decisions I make; I receive constant pushback, refusal to cooperate, and at times, am completely ignored.”

Serena’s heart is hammering in her chest and her palms are sweaty as she waits with bated breath for Ethan’s response.

“Tension is never one-sided. Be careful and cognizant of how you are treating others as well.”

Serena is taken aback. “That’s not me and you know it. There was practically no handover period, let alone adequate training. I was left to my own devices. Everyone assumed I would ‘figure it out,’ but it seems to have been forgotten by literally everyone that I don’t have anything to base this on in order to ‘figure it out!’”

Ethan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is that what this is about? I can’t just give you handouts because you’re my girlfriend.”

“When have I ever asked you for a ‘handout?’” Serena stands from her spot on the couch. “Why are you being so unsupportive? Don’t join the ranks of the people who think I slept my way to the top,” Serena says, a challenge in her tone.

Ethan is stunned into silence, bewilderment in his eyes.

The tension between them fills the penthouse, engulfing them in a silent standoff, neither backing down. 

Until Ethan says something that completely breaks Serena’s resolve. 

“Maybe you’re not mature enough to handle this yet. Perhaps I should have given the team to Tobias.” 

Ethan’s statement is coming from a place of hurt, her previous flippant remark cutting deep, as if his greatest fear concerning their relationship is becoming a reality. But it is also coming from a place of mentorship, invoking the “tough love” tactic he is so renowned for. The tone reminiscent of the very first day they met, following the thoracotomy in the waiting area. 

Tough love that pushes her to be better, to reach the staggering heights he knows she’s capable of, to fulfill her full potential. 

But all Serena wishes for is the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She wishes she hadn’t said anything at all, that there was a time machine that would take her back. Because how foolish of her to assume that Ethan could set aside his role as Chief to be the loving and supportive boyfriend she needed, not only in this moment, but also in the past four months. 

"You single-handedly tore a wound that I've been bleeding from ever since. I wasn’t confiding in you as Dr. Harlow; I was confiding in you as Serena. As a woman who, in that moment, needed the man she loved to love her.

Ethan is utterly horrified by the conversation from a couple months back and he grows ever more appalled with himself as Serena continues to put her feelings into words — yes, taking over as Chief was a bigger task than he had anticipated, but how could he not have noticed her cries for help? 

*"What about us?" 

Of all the thoughts and emotions swirling within him, this is the only one Ethan cares about right now. 

“What about everything we’ve been through?” Ethan presses. 

"You told me that you don't need me to take care of you. I realize now that I threw myself on the fire to keep you warm, but you'd say that you never asked me to. So I'll keep myself warm from now on."

“What am I supposed to do? I don’t want to lose you.”*

The words come out jumbled, rushed beyond measure, as if they'd be lost to time forever if Ethan didn't get them out right that instant.

His heart is beating like a hummingbird's wings, but it stops dead in the next second.  

"You've been too distracted to realize that you've already lost me a long time ago.

But you got what you wanted after all — this is Tobias' team now.”

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Song Prompt:

Emails I Can’t Send by Sabrina Carpenter

Esther & Joel

(I had never heard this song before, but damn)

She has lunch with friends in Chinatown, and orders some extra Kung Pao shrimp, splitting off to hit the Button Club to drop it off for her father.

It's 1976, Esther Maisel is eighteen, and trying. She's been accepted to NYU for undergrad, and she figures now that she is a full-blown adult, she should try to have a good relationship with her biological father.

They haven't been close in a long time. Since her mother remarried, Joel Maisel has made himself scarcer and scarcer. Esther and her brother Ethan technically have an entire second family, consisting of biological father, step-mother and half sister, but they just...aren't around as much as they were when Esther was small.

And that's okay. Time and life and all of that.

But she's trying.

The door to the club is unlocked, which is a little strange for the middle of the day, but she slips in, takeout carton in hand and hops down the stairs in her cute jeans and her cute top, and when she rounds the corner into the club, she finds the lights on, and her father, bare-assed with a woman who looks like her mama, but fifteen years younger, pressed against the bar.

Esther has never had sex before. Or seen sex before.

"So I brought you lunch," she blurts out without meaning to.

It startles both of them and suddenly they're cursing and scrambling to get dressed behind the bar.

"Esther, what the fuck?"

"I mean. I think that should be my line," she says, and even though her voice his steady, she finds her hands shaking. "Anyways. Here." She sets the carton on a nearby table and then rushes back up the stairs.

Her father calls after her, but she doesn't stop. "Esther! Fuck. Esther!"

She doesn't stop for breath until she home.

*****

"I don't think she even went to sleep last night," her step-father's voice says softly from the kitchen. "She wouldn't tell me what was wrong, but something's wrong."

Her mother nods and steps out of the kitchen and into the living room. They moved here to this big, beautiful brownstone a handful of years ago, needing more space for everyone, especially with Ethan living at home after coming back from Vietnam.

It's nice.

Esther misses the old apartment. Cramped, but fun.

Her mother sits down and opens her arms up to her, and Esther finds herself curling in against her like she did when she was small.

"You want to tell me?" Midge asks gently, stroking her hair.

"It's Dad," Esther says simply. "I-" she stops. "I don't know."

"Did he say something mean?" Midge asks. "You know, sometimes he just talks without thinking. He doesn't really mean-"

"I stopped by the club because I got him lunch," Esther says. "You remember? I went out with Rivka and June for lunch?"

"I do."

"And I got Dad's favorite and I thought I'd drop by the club and give it to him, because it was a Saturday and he's always there early."

"Okay..."

"And he was- there was a-" Esther stops and swallows, looking up at her mother. "You know what? It's okay. I'm okay."

Midge stares at her for a long moment. "You know you can tell me anything."

Not this.

"I know."

"When you're ready."

"I know."

*****

They host family dinners these days, with how big the brownstone is, and in the summer, it's nice to eat out in the backyard amongst Lenny's garden. When they first moved in, he planted rose bushes at her request, and they come back every year, big and blood red and beautiful. Perfect for her mother to decorate the house with.

Esther likes to tease him about old people hobbies, and he's more than game to take it, fully admitting he's of an age where he likes his old people hobbies.

"It's either gardening or being weird around your friends," he tells her jokingly, and she laughs, swatting him with her sunhat.

It's been a long time since it's been the whole family at dinner. Ethan helps with the cooking and Esther sets the table, excited to see Xiulan and Kitty, but dreading seeing her father.

She sits at the far end from him, between her mother and step-father, feeling oddly safe with one stable parent on either side.

"Esther, you start NYU in the fall, don't you?" Papa Abe asks, looking happy for her.

She nods as she picks at her food. "For pre-law."

"A lawyer in the family," Zeyde Moishe crows. "How about that?"

"We're all very proud," Lenny grins, nudging Esther gently. "We got a successful entertainment manager, a hardworking social worker, and now a lawyer."

"She's not your kid, Lenny," Joel says, causing the table to go quiet.

Lenny shrugs it off easily. Esther wonders how he's been able to do that for all these years.

"Well, maybe not in name, but-"

"Maybe I'll change my name," Esther pipes up, causing her mother to look at her, a little stunned. "Esther Bruce, attorney-at-law sounds pretty good."

Kitty laughs nervously. "Good joke, Es."

"No, really," Esther says. "Why would I want to be associated with a cheater?"

"Esther," her mother says softly. "Esther, what is going on?"

"That was a very long time ago, Esther," Bubbe Shirley says. "Your father has changed."

"Sure," Esther snaps, staring at her father. "Sure he has." she gets to her feet and heads for the door back into the house. "I'm getting more water. Who wants more water?"

"Me," Xiulan says, looking bewildered.

Ethan hops to his feet, following her. "Lemme help."

They step inside and Ethan slides the door closed behind them, following her into the kitchen as Esther starts filling a large pitcher with ice and water.

"So?" Ethan asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"I bought Dad lunch the other day," Esther tells him. "And found him fucking some lady half his age who looks like Mama."

"Ah," Ethan nods slowly. "You met Allana."

"Met is a strong work in this instance. Saw naked, yes. Said hello? Not exactly. How did you know?"

"Pop's not exactly subtle," Ethan admits. "Nor is he unpredictable. Also, he tells me things I really don't want to know."

"Does Mei know?" Esther asks.

"I think so," Ethan says. "He's doin' that thing where he promises to leave Mei and then stays but keeps fucking Allana. Mei's not dumb."

"But Mama was?"

"Mama was really young, and only like eight months removed from giving birth to you," Ethan shrugs. "She was twenty-five, and her hormones were just starting to go back to normal when that stuff happened. Mei is like forty-something now. She knows better, and she knows Pop."

"So we're just supposed to..."

"Stay out of it," Ethan tells her. "Not for Pop. Not for Mei, but for you. For your sanity. Just like we stay out it when Lenny's struggling with the drug stuff. We stay out of it."

"Men or garbage."

"Yeah," Ethan agrees.

"I hope I have a lesbian awakening really soon," Esther says as she thrusts the pitcher of water at him. "I'll be in my room. Just- tell everyone I have a headache and I'll be down later."

"Yeah," Ethan agrees again.

She climbs the stairs to her room, and shuts the door.

[nctsworld]

spin me right ‘round

✩‌ johnny ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ record store owner!johnny | fluff | smut | 4k‌ ‌

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ buying from the local records shop leads you to eventually bed the hot owner on the night of your first date.   WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (in the second half), oral s*x (f and m receiving), f*ngering, johnny has a big d*ck and f*cks you hard???, office s*x in the epilogue (kind of) RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ @sehunniepot​ (thought you might be interested in this nikki 👀) 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit! 

Opening the store’s door, the ringing of the bell above you signals your entrance. 

You moved into the neighbourhood recently and since someone gifted you a record player for your last birthday, you thought it’d be a quaint idea to drop by the local records shop that you always pass by on your way home.  

Rows and rows of vinyl records, organized both alphabetically and by genre, welcome you with open arms, along with a faint musty smell, likely due to the faded, vintage records hanging between the posters on the cream walls. 

The outside of the store is misleading to its size; there’s enough space here for at least thirty people easily. However, besides you, it looks like there’s only one other customer in the shop.  

Although your surroundings captivate your senses, the striking blond man bent over the rock section in the middle of the shop is the true cynosure of your eyes. 

His long fingers flutter seamlessly over the records, seeming to be on a dedicated search to find one in particular. He towers high over the low stacks and oozes coolness with a thumb stuffed in his front pocket and donning a stylish green beanie atop his medium cut locks. 

Not to mention that his jeans tug perfectly over the curvature of his prominent ass, but you merely steal a glance or two at his backside as you stroll towards the pop section. 

Okay, maybe three glances.

With your back facing the man, several minutes pass as you rummage through the sea of mainstream music, ranging from recent to old, but all the while pleasing to your tastes.  

“See anything you like?” 

Your eyes meet the figure standing nearby with a hand on the edge of one of the stack dividers. His smooth voice matches his strong aura and his gorgeous face, which you’re now blessed to be viewing up-close. 

Your gaze pursues downward, soaking up his sturdy frame hidden behind his flattering clothes. Darting your eyes up his lengthy body back to his face, you lick your lips and swallow, in hopes to dampen the sudden dryness in your throat, and naturally raise the corners of your mouth.        

“Yeah—” You, you think in the back of your head and execute a nod, “—there are a few things.” 

He smiles endearingly towards the floor before glancing back up to you. You wonder if he can read your thoughts, or maybe it’s simply written all over your face.

Releasing his grip, he says, “Take all the time you need. If you need any assistance, let me know." 

Your eyebrows perk up in realization. “Do you work here?”

“Yeah.” Bobbing his head, he runs a hand over his beanie. “I’m the owner of the store.”

“Oh, wow,” you exclaim, jaw hanging slightly. “You’re so young, I wouldn’t think someone in their 20s would have their own store, especially one like this." 

A frown falls over his face, and in that moment, you knew you fucked up any chance you had with him.  

“Yeah, 26 to be exact,” he shrugs, tight-lipped, prior to the folding of his arms. His eyes become slits of bitterness. “Thanks for the ageism."

Immediately shaking your head at the misunderstanding, you stammer, “I didn't mean it like that—"

The owner’s expression melts in an instant and a warmness emanates from him once more. The knot in your chest loosens at the sight and relief waves over.  

“I'm just playing with you, don’t worry." 

He opens his mouth, about to continue, but his attention is interrupted by the ringing at the door, and you turn to see another customer over your shoulder. The attractive individual begins to stroll over, but still faces your direction, beaming. 

“Well, if you decide to get anything, you know where to find me, and I'll ring it up for you." 

With puffed cheeks, you nod and watch him greet the incoming patron. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind you, you shift toward the records again and browse for a little longer. 

Finally deciding on a few choices, you walk toward the front register and peer over at the beanied blond. In the classical section, he’s listening intently to the bumbling customer. Not wanting to disturb them, you lay the vinyls on the counter and thankfully find a pen and a stack of sticky notes upon it. 

After sticking the following note on the top vinyl cover, you head out of the store:

“Put these on hold for me?  I'll be back for them.  Thanks!  -Miss Ageist” 

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Judgmental."

A couple of days later, you drop by the store again and find the spirited owner at the front counter. Today, he’s channeling his inner grunge style, adorning a half-up, half-down ponytail and a loose white t-shirt over a tight, long black sleeve shirt. Is it possible for him to look even cuter than he did last time? 

“Sorry again for that,” you scrunch your nose at the memory. He grabs your records from beneath the counter and rings them through. “You just look so young to own a store.”

The blond airily laughs, “I'm gonna take that as a compliment." 

He spots you twisting your mouth to one side and nodding shyly. “It is." 

As you pay for the items, he gestures to your vinyls on the counter. “Good choices, by the way.”

“Are there bad ones?” From the pay pad, you glance up at him and he’s feigning a hurt look. 

“Oh, most definitely.” 

You banter with a tilt of your head, “Isn't music subjective though?” 

“Not to me. I am the king of music taste." 

Both parties exchange laughter while you wait for the transaction to process. Once it finishes, he rips the receipt and places it into the bag with the records. 

“I mean, I do own a records store, so I think I should know." 

Flashing you his pearly whites, he hands the filled bag over to you. 

“Here you go, Miss Judgy Pants.” 

“Actually, you can call me—” You properly introduce yourself.

He leans back a little, straightening himself and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. 

“I'm John, but you can call me Johnny." 

With a glimmer in your eye, you question, “Is Johnny exclusive to me, or does everyone else also call you Johnny?”

His eyebrows raise, impressed by your straightforwardness. “I only let the pretty girls call me Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

The wink he gives is short-lived, but it’s enough to cause heat to blossom over your cheeks. You brush some hair behind your ear. 

“So, Johnny,” you enunciate, indulging in his name. “When does the store close?” 

You lift up your bag and cheekily add, “Gotta know when to break in to steal more vinyls." 

Johnny chuckles, and your heart bursts knowing you’re the reason behind it. Looking aside, his hand rubs the counter casually and you can’t help but stare at his large palm dominating the surface, along with his elongated fingers. Eyes blinking rapidly, you attempt to break the fantasy assembling in your brain—his hands are the guest stars alongside (and within) your body in the leading role. 

“I can close whenever I want to, but thanks for the heads up; I'll make sure to keep you away from the store,” he jokes.  

Catching your gaze, one of the sides of his mouth lifts. “Why do you ask?” 

Shrugging nonchalantly as you play with the handles of your dangling plastic bag, you reply, “Just wanted to know when the cute worker got off so I can potentially go on a date with him.” 

You scan around as if someone else is there in the empty store besides the two of you and point your thumb to one side, whispering teasingly, “Not you, but the other guy.” 

His tongue grazes against his bottom teeth, nodding understandingly with a deeper smirk. “The store closes at nine usually, but I can make an exception for him to get off earlier." 

Satisfied with Johnny’s answer, you bounce your head and make your way backwards toward the door.

“Sounds good, I'll be here at eight for him tomorrow night. Maybe I'll see you around then, too.” 

Granting him a wink of your own, you turn on your heels and leave. Intrigued, Johnny watches you disappear down the street through the store window. 

At 7:58 the next evening, you show up to the store. 

A customer is at the front counter finishing a purchase. As they pay for the products, the worker takes notice of you, smiling in recognition. You return the same, beaming back at him, and casually stride over to a random section to wait until they’re done. They make some small talk, so you delve in the opportunity to admire Johnny’s outfit for tonight—a tight black t-shirt that showcases his blatant pecs and a loose red plaid shirt overtop of it. 

When the customer exits, you make your way over to him as he puts on a light jacket. You lean your elbows onto the counter. 

“Surprised to see you here.” 

“Likewise," he jests back, snaking out of the counter to be in front of you. You glance at him, consuming the tall drink of water.   

Nodding to the door, you ask, “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” 

Johnny hums affirmatively and you follow behind him outside as he flips the open sign and locks up the store.

“So, where we heading off to?” 

Informing him of what you had in mind, the two of you decide to take his car to the downtown pier. Once there, both of you grab take-out and eat together at a bench table under the clear sky and dazzling stars. Conversation comes easy, making the night fly by fast. 

While talking with him, since his hair flows freely today, he sometimes shyly brushes some of it behind his ear. Although you’re listening intently, you also ponder how it’d be if you ran your fingers through his soft, silky locks. 

Dinner eases into dessert, with the two of you having ice cream side by side on the pier railing, looking out towards the twinkling water. By the time you’re halfway finished with your cone, you hint at not wanting to end the night just yet. Agreeing with your sentiments, Johnny makes the suggestion of going back to the store. 

After finishing the ice cream, you head together back to his car. The back of your hand brushes up against his. Taking a chance, you curl the tips of your fingers around his, half-holding his hand.  

Pressing up against his arm, you whisper, “Thought you said you gotta keep me away from the store."  

He peers down at the partial hand holding and the grin he gives you reaches his eyes. He gives your hand a small squeeze, ensuring the burgeoning attraction is mutual. 

He whispers in reply, “At least this way I can keep an eye on you." 

At the shop, Johnny locks the door from inside, in case of any wandering bodies, and blasts some upbeat, electronic music onto the store speakers. Intercepting your hand, he guides you to the back corner of the store and starts to dance with you. 

At first, your bodies are separate vessels, grooving to the beat of the music, but as the songs play on, you gradually gravitate towards each other. Soon enough, one hand settles comfortably upon your waist, the other on your hip, while yours are hooked around the nape of his neck. Before you know it, you merge together as one with parted lips, finally satisfying the tension in the air and within your bodies.       

The kissing is intense, electrically charged and sending currents to the tips of your fingers. Although you’re barely acquainted, you two kiss like you’ve been deprived of each other your whole life—every kiss and every touch quenching your thirst for one another.  

Wanting to change it up, you step over to an empty counter and hop onto it. Johnny steps in the space between your legs and his lips meet yours again. You cup his face, clutching onto his strong features, and occasionally run a hand through his hair to caress his head. 

You answer inwardly to your previous thoughts, confirming the silky texture of his hair, and your touch relishes in his golden locks.  

Suddenly, his mouth channels hunger onto your neck and the electric currents divert directly to your rising arousal. At the sensation, you rashly grind your hips into Johnny’s body, and he groans heavily in the crook of your neck.  

He mumbles into your skin, “Do you wanna take this further? My place is nearby." 

Sighing further into his embrace, you half-jokingly reply, “You know, I was really looking forward to getting fucked in a records store." 

He easily breathes, “We can do that next time, I promise." 

You snicker. “Aren’t you a little presumptuous?” 

Tugging his shirt by the neckline, you force him to leave your neck and to greet your mouth instead. Pressing the top of your forehead against his, you match his gaze.   

“And what if I don't like you after tonight?”  

Something in you already knows that won’t be true, but you mischievously ask regardless. 

The simper Johnny flickers is enough to send another wave of bolts downward to your core. 

He peels his head away to bring it beside your ear. His thumb on your thigh may be gently rubbing you, but his following assurance is hoarse, absolutely drenched in pure lust.  

“Oh, you're definitely going to like me after all the things I do to you tonight." 

You barely have an opportunity to scan around his bachelor pad because his lips capture yours upon arrival. In his entryway, Johnny entangles with you, pushing you up against the wall. Impatiently, he drags you to his bedroom for the long-awaited spectacle of the night. 

After hurrying to turn on his bedside lamp, Johnny presses his weight against yours on his bed, embracing the full body contact. His lips continue to attack the terrain of your skin as he denudes you. You hum softly as he pursues south to your aching desire. Hoisting your backside and with his assistance, you’re finally completely bare. 

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Johnny pulls his top layers off, revealing a sculpted physique, the kind that artists muse and obsess over. You knew he was fit from how his clothes constantly hugged his body, but this was just insane. 

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, staring blankly. 

Chuckling, he does the same bashful gesture from dinner—tucking some of his hair behind his ear. The gentleness is a contrast that nicely compliments his Adonis qualities. His soft side is flipped onto its backside in a second as he begins to creep his way over between your legs, his eyes darkening. 

Upon resting on his chest, you didn’t notice it before, but there’s a hair tie on his wrist, which he uses to effortlessly make himself a quick ponytail. 

With anticipation, you sigh into the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh, making his way toward your pulsing sex. When his tongue issues the first swipe, you inhale sharply with fluttering eyes. Johnny isn’t in a rush, taking his sweet time to lazily lap up your slick and learning what incites you.           

Once he has a better understanding of your desire, he dives in and devours you whole. 

Realization sweeps over as to why he has to put his hair up.

In accompaniment to the painting of your folds, Johnny spreads them gently and ensures he dunks his tongue in your wetness. One of your hands drift away from the bed sheets to one of his snaked around your upper thigh, clutching onto his fingertips in reaction to the swift rotational swirls on your raw flesh.   

He draws back, lips lustrous from your nectar, and hastily replaces his mouth with two fingers.

Your half-lidded eyes shoot wide open. His long, thick fingers fill you greatly, scissor you so far in your sex, so much that you fear what his cock is like if this is how his digits feel. 

You’re overcome with bursts of pleasure. Further bursts ensue as Johnny tongues your clit alongside the fingering. Your throaty cries and the squelches of your pussy is melodious to his ears, better than playing his favourite vinyls on the best record player he owns. The lewdness of it all overwhelms his jean-bound arousal, so Johnny retaliates by grinding against the bed.  

After Johnny retreats, he stands by the foot of the bed and starts unbuckling his belt and pants. You crawl your way over, still panting and reeling from the rush of your high. As you reach him, he drags his pants and boxer-briefs towards the floor in one-go, freeing his unsurprising lengthy girth.    

On your knees, hunched over his cock, you chuckle in disbelief. “Now that’s unfair.” 

He watches in amusement as you examine his desire with delight, before taking it into your hand, pumping it languidly. “What is?” 

You peer up, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re hot, own a record store, really funny, and you’re packing. God really has his favourites.” 

Johnny’s about to respond, but his brain short-circuits momentarily at the pad of your thumb rubbing his precome over the tip of his blunt head. He cranes his neck back, exhaling a groan. 

“Well, what can I say? Guess I’m just-fuck—” 

You suck the words out of him. Literally. 

Your warm embrace encompasses his entirety, possessing a strong hold over him. Since you can’t possibly take him fully into your mouth, your fist solves your problem by stroking him by the base. Aiming to please, especially after his oral act from earlier, you slurp and bob your head mercilessly, disregarding the saliva leaking down the sides of your mouth. 

One of Johnny’s hands arranges your hair in a make-shift ponytail to get a clearer view of the obscene display. His hazy eyes skim over the gorgeous curves of your bent back and ass jutting high up in the air. His breathing turns heavier and he’s about to tug on your hair, motioning for you to slow down, but you thankfully come up for air just in time. 

The stately figure attacks your lips with urgency. The kiss is wet and messy from going down on one another, but it merely adds to the intensity. While lip-locked, he lowers you into his pillow once more, then stretches an arm out to his bedside stand to fish out a condom. 

He nimbly rolls on the cover, but is confused to find you back on your knees instead of laying on the bed. You grasp him by the wrist and press your fingers against his firm pecs, indicating to him to recline backward. In awe, he obediently obliges. 

Hovering over him, you suck in a breath as you line your sex up with his, cognizant that you need to acclimatize to his size. You steadily sit onto his length and when it finally reaches the end, you release a piercing groan at the deep sensation.

For a bit, you don’t move too much to get used to his great desire. In the meantime, your fingers wander over the chiseled flesh in front of you—his defined, veiny arms; his solid chest; and the valleys of his abs. 

Once you think it’s been enough, you transfer more weight onto your knees and slide on his cock with more vigor. You throw your head back in pleasure. 

On the other end, Johnny’s gaze wavers between the main action, your bouncing breasts, and your supple neck. He can’t see your face clearly, but he knows you must be enjoying this as much as him by the breathy moans that follow each thrust.    

When your legs start to tire, Johnny tries to hold you close and roll you over onto your backside. You both giggle at the unsuccessful attempt to keep himself still inside of you, but that’s an easy fix. Despite just having him within you, you gasp again at the penetration. Him being on top hits you at a different angle and you truly feel the length of his inches. 

Johnny reaches down to meet your lips. You brush your fingers over his pulled back hair as he consumes your existence. In addition to each passing drive of his body into yours, you also grip harder onto his hair in ecstasy, which leads to the unraveling of his long locks upon your face. The gold ocean of silkiness drowns your senses, the strands stroking your skin like extra caresses. 

Retreating back onto his knees and raking a hand through his tousled mane, his hands then attach to the flanks of your body and he pounds you breathless, leaving you heaving for air. 

In your dazed state, you desperately grab on to whatever you can—the sheets, his upper frame, his ass, anything. Throughout it all, your core contracts even tighter over the way his clavicle, tendons, and muscles protrude and flex like they’re about to break through his skin.  

At this point, you’re beyond delirious and definitely beyond gratified. You assume he’s about to finish when he decreases his pace and bends closer to you, but instead, he continues to still move inside of you.  

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” you gasp and grunt between his rough, buried thrusts. “How are you not close?” 

“I’m not ready to be done with you yet, beautiful,” Johnny rasps into your ear. You catch a glimpse of his cocked eyebrow and smirk. “Unless you can’t handle me?” 

Denying his accusation, you haul his cheeks to yours and kiss him fiercely.  

And with that, Johnny’s weight is on his knees again and he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

However, Johnny might’ve been right because it doesn’t take long for you to beg repeatedly for him to come.  

“So, what’s the verdict? Still like me after that?” 

Both individuals are still nude on the bed, but now covered by a blanket. Resting on his chest, you drum your fingers over his skin in thought (as if you need to even think about an answer besides the obvious). 

Pouting up at Johnny, you say, “I’ll only like you if you keep your promise on fucking me in the store next time.” 

“Of course.” He palms your cheek and inches forward, preparing to kiss you tenderly. 

“A gentleman never breaks his promise.”  

EPILOGUE 

One month later, the record store’s business has been growing, so Johnny decides to hire one of his friends, Mark, to be a part-time worker.

Which means that Johnny has more spare time to do other things... like taking you from behind in the back office over his desk. 

“Shit, fuck,” you grip harshly onto the edges of the worn-out wooden desk as he thrusts endlessly. Even after a month of dating, your pussy still isn’t fully accustomed to the size of his girth. You’re unsure if it ever will be. 

No matter, it always feels amazing. 

“Johnny, Johnny—” 

“Johnny!” Mark’s voice suddenly cuts in and calls from outside of the office door. You immediately bite down on your lower lip to shut yourself up. “Someone’s asking me about a limited edition vinyl and I don’t know how to answer.” 

“Uhhh,” Johnny drones absentmindedly, yet jabs into you with more rigor. You bite down harder, but you can’t control the rising volume of your stifled moans. “Give me five minutes.” 

A silent beat passes. 

“Dude, are you fucking in the office again?!” the part-timer exclaims. You can practically see him shaking his head in disgust. “Ugh, I’ll give them the store’s card. Hurry up, though.”

As he walks away, you hear him faintly say, “Sometimes I think this is why you hired me...” 

Simultaneously, you both giggle heartily. Your lover pecks you lovingly on your shoulder prior to diving again into the wanton moment. 

In the end, Johnny actually spends ten more minutes with you. But he can afford the extra minutes—he is the owner of the shop, after all. 

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋

ch.1 - ch.3

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.

But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.

Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.

The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”

“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”

“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.

“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”

“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”

“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”

“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n’ such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”

“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”

“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”

Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”

“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”

Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”

“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“Shoot.”

“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”

“What kind of unusual sounds?”

“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”

“Heavens! Is she alright?!”

“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”

“Well, good.”

“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing…”

“Sure.”

“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”

“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”

Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”

“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”

“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”

“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”

“Yup.”

“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.

“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”

“I agree.”

“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”

Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.

“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”

“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”

“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“Anytime, Stanford.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.

The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it. 

Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.

Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay. 

Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?

She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.

All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.

Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.

“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”

Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.

“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,

Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”

Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.

Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”

Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”

“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.

Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.

And he was right.

“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”

Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance. 

“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”

Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.

Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”

Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”

“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”

“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”

“Do you know any card tricks?!”

“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”

Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.

[maybege]

Booth Jazz

Summary: You and Boba explore a little fantasy – as a treat. (Part 4 of Midnight Special)

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, exhibitionism, almost getting caught, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, creampie, car sex, mention of somnophilia, also these two idiots have feelings

I know it’s been a while but I hope that some of you are still interested in this little project. Updates will remain irregular for a while but you can look up the most recent posting schedule here. As always, big shout out to @ayybtch for enduring my thirsting for hot dad!Boba. I hope you all have an amazing start into the week and let me know what you think of this chapter!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“Back again, huh?” the man behind the counter greeted you, “And on a Thursday no less.”

“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly, nervously motioning to the menu, “Could I get a cider please?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he nodded, wiping it one more time before grabbing a glass from behind him. You waited patiently, looking around the room and finding that while it was a little more crowded than last time you had been here, you recognized none of the people which was a good thing.

The last time you had been here, it was a weekend with live music. Now it was a Thursday evening which meant that there was a sports game of some sort playing on the large TVs, the centre of attention of the patrons that were there.

It did not escape you that the bartender looked you over, no doubt noticing your very fancy outfit for a Thursday night. Then again, he had never seen you wear anything else.

“Here you go,” the full glass slid towards you, leaving a wet trail on the polished wood, he nodded towards the end of the room, “Should I put it on his tab?”

“That would be great, thanks,” you smiled, taking your glass in hand before making your way to the direction he had nodded towards.

No one paid you any mind, the game being a finale of some sort. Still, you felt as though everybody. You were wearing a dark green cocktail dress, the fabric shiny in the low light and the neckline lower than what you usually wore. And, when the light shone just right, revealing the texture f the lace of your bra underneath. The fabric felt cool and smooth against your hot skin you felt as if everybody could see up your skirt even though the hem hit your knees with every step.

Your steps quickened when you spotted a single man occupying one of the booths at the very end of the room. He was looking down at his phone, intentionally paying you no mind and a coy smile slipped on your lips.

Without stopping, you raised your legs, making to climb over his lap as he was blocking one entry to the bench. Boba’s hand shot up, gripping your hip and keeping you standing over him while his eyes roamed over your figure.

You bit your lip, seeing how his eyes darkened when they landed on your chest, your nipples already pebbled and visibly through the fabric.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked teasingly, shivering when his hand left your hip, trailing down your legs until it simply fell to his side.

“Not at all,” he rasped, motioning to the free space next to him, “Feel free.”

You settled down next to him in the booth, Boba’s arm immediately coming to rest around your shoulders.

“Hello there, little one,” he rumbled, turning his face to press a kiss against your mouth. It already made you clench your thighs, your anticipation building a thick knot in your lower belly.

He groaned, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to taste you and you thanked the stars that the lights were dimmed in the room or else everybody would see you getting in a heated make-out session with him. His other hand went to your bare thigh, big fingers splaying over the soft flesh as he gripped it and patted your legs.

Your breathing came heavy as his mouth wandered to your jaw and behind your ear. “Sorry, I’m late,” you breathed out, leaning your head back against the plush leather of the booth, “Work ran later than I wanted it to. How can I make it up to you?”

Boba chuckled into your ear, the sound low and gravelly and sending a rush of wetness between your thighs. You already knew he had the filthiest thing in mind and you were so here for it. Your walls fluttered around nothing. All day you had been looking forward to tonight, barely able to focus on work, and now that you were here, it was as if you were already on the edge.

“I want you to take off your panties for me, little one,” he instructed hoarsely, pulling your legs open even further, “I want to finger you right here in the pub and I want you to stay good and quiet for me. Can you do that for me, princess?”

You grinned widely, putting your hand on his and pulling it in between your thighs. “I’m not wearing any … sir,” you bit your bottom lip, suppressing a gasp when you felt his middle finger swipe through your already wet folds, “you can do whatever you want with me. I’m all yours.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he praised you, his thumb circling your clit and you felt heat rise to your cheeks at the wet sounds that came from between your legs.

“Stars, you’re wet for me,” he praised you, “Good girl. Gripping my fingers real tight, hm?”

The bar erupted in cheers at the game, chairs scraping on the floor as some stood up, calling for new rounds of beer and high fiving each other.

You whimpered, breath catching in your throat as Boba used the cover of their noise to speed up his movements. Your legs shook and you weakly tried to put your hand on his, pulling them away from your cunt as the knot in your belly tightened. Everything felt warm – hot– and tight and you felt yourself clamp around him, your feet trembling in the heels you were wearing.

Boba mumbled something you did not understand and suddenly his hand was gone and you whined at the loss, arching your hips. But then his hand came back, slapping your pussy and your hand flew to your mouth, biting into your palm as he pulled an orgasm out of you so strongly you were surprised you did not leave an entire wet patch on the floor.

Leaning back against the bench, you felt dizzy and sweaty and

Boba had sat up slightly, his body covering you from anyone who might decide to look into your general direction. He was looking over you, his face dark as his fingers lipped back inside you. Immediately your walls clamped around the digits again and bit your lip, doing your best to remain quiet.

There was the tell-tale bulge in his jeans and you weakly raised your hand to touch him. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, you could feel the heat of him and your mouth watered at the thought of getting him into your mouth. Of licking the precoma from his tip before having him push his cock so far down your throat it would make tears appear in the corner of your eyes.

“Fuck I want to sit you on my cock so bad,” he cursed under his breath, his fingers not ceasing their movements and you whimpered, “but that would be a little too obvious, wouldn’t it? You’re too much of a cock slut to stay quiet.“

Boba curled his fingers inside you, slowly rubbing his long fingers against that spongy spot inside you while his thumb swiped over your clit and you bit into his shoulder, feeling slightly sorry for the nice shirt he was wearing as you tried to muffle your sounds. How had you just come and still craved his touch?

Your walls clenched around him. The sounds of the bar echoed in your ears, seemingly getting louder with every thrust of Boba’s fingers inside you. There were people everywhere. And here you were creaming around Boba’s thick fingers as he whispered pure filth into your ear.

“Need you to be quiet for me, little one,” he reminded you with a chuckle, completely pressed up against you, “unless you want everyone to know what a good girl you are for me.”

You nodded frantically, trying your best to keep quiet. But then you saw him look down and you followed his line of sight and the whole staying quiet thing became much more difficult. Because with how you had spread your legs, your dress had ridden up, revealing his thick fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, glistening from your juices.

A quiet moan left you. one that Boba immediately swallowed up with a heated kiss. His thumb

“If you keep this up you’re going to have to let them watch.”

You knew he did not really mean the second one. Early on in your text messages, he had told you he was not one to share – “And certainly not you, little one” – but his words still flustered you and you squeezed around his fingers.

“Have I told you how much I love this?” he whispered into your ear, clearly trying to coax another orgasm out of you and with the way your pussy got even wetter at his deep voice, it was clearly working.

You shook your head breathlessly, feeling your cheeks heat with anticipation as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“All we said to each other today was hello before I had my fingers buried in this tight cunt of yours,” he revealed, “You did not even ear any panties, you’re that much of a slut for me. Letting me fuck you right in the booth where we first met.”

You whimpered, thankful for the loud cheers of the other patrons, and bit your lips, trying to ignore how good his degrading words made you feel. But Boba knew you and he could read your body like an open book.

With a teasing smirk on his lips, his other hand came up to your neckline, pushing it to the side and when his thumb caught the lace edge of your bra he just pulled it with him. And suddenly not only were you getting fingered undeath the table but one of your tits was bared to the warm air of the bar.

You gaped at Boba’s confidence before your mouth clamped shut trying to keep your sounds in when he started to play with your nipple. “One more,” he encouraged you, “one more time around my fingers and then we can do whatever we want,” he promised you hotly, his fingers pinching and pulling your nipple.

From the corner of your eyes, you spotted someone making their way to the washrooms. Which meant that had to pass by you. Your heart jumped in your throat and your limbs locked up, the pleasure threatening to become too much while the fear of being discovered rendered you silent.

Boba seemed to notice it too, a dark look forming in his eyes as his fingers sped up. He shifted, his body now completely covering yours in the dark booth. “C’mon,” he growled, his thumb flicking over the bundle of nerves, “Either you come right now or you don’t come at all.”

The drunken man stumbled a little, clearly intoxicated, as he supported himself on a table on the other side of the aisle. Boba made a sound at the back of his throat, forcing you to look at him and your breath caught in your throat, walls rhythmically clenching around your fingers.

There was a determination in his eyes and suddenly your entire chest was bared and Boba leant down, biting into the soft flesh of your left breast and you came.

It took everything in you to not slump forward and be seen by everyone in the bar but sideways into Boba’s body, every muscle in your body tensing before relaxing into what felt like melted butter as wetness coated Boba’s fingers.

You closed your eyes, completely out of breath, uncaring that your tits were still very much out in the open.

“Good girl,” Boba mumbled against your temple, pressing a kiss against your cheek as his fingers slowed their thrusts until he pulled them entirely from you, “My goof fucking girl.”

You smiled dreamily, pushing your face into the crook of his neck, “Thank you for making me come, Boba.”

He chuckled and you felt his chest move with the sound. “You’re very welcome, little one,” he rumbled, “How are you feeling?”

Shifting in your seat you grimaced as you felt the wat patch between and under your thighs. The leather was slippery and your skin felt like it was glued to it.

“Sticky,” you answered truthfully, heat shooting into your cheeks, “Stars, I am so embarrassed, I – it feels like I left a puddle. They will know what we did and –“

“Let me worry about that okay?” he interrupted you gently and you watched with wide eyes as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, making a show of sucking and licking your juices from his skin. His dark eyes kept looking at you and you felt your lower belly clench with want.

Stars knew you would not be able to come again so easily but you needed him.

“Let’s go to your car,” you breathed, your hands falling to his thighs, “I – I need you.”

“But you haven’t even finished your drink, little one,” the older man teased you, his lips dragging over your shoulder as he helped you to straighten out your dress. The soft fabric felt cold against your heated skin and you were glad that you had chosen a dark colour because you were sure otherwise everybody would be able to see the stains on it as it plastered to your wet skin.

“I don’t care, I don’t want it,” you pouted, one hand rubbing him through his jeans and you noted with a hint of satisfaction that his jaw tensed as he tried to keep it together, “I only want you.”

“Good, then promise me you won’t get angry with me, princess.”

Your frowned, “What-“

Something wet and cold spilled over both of you – but mainly you. You gasped at the shock, the cider immediately soaking through the fabric of your dress and you scooted away from him, quickly making a grab for some napkins that you pressed on your lap.

“Oh no,” Boba said drily, wiping his hands on a dark patch on his jeans, “I better go ask the bartender for something to clean up this mess with.”

Only now did you realize what exactly Boba had done. Because with you scooting away, the glass had not stopped spilling – it simply spilled on the already wet leather now. Which meant Boba had the perfect cover to wipe down the table and the bench and no one would be the wiser.

Well, except for you.

He came back a moment later with a rag and motioned for you to stand up which you did readily, grimacing at the sticky feeling. You watched as Boba bent over the bench, thoroughly wiping everything away and making sure not a trace of your activities was left before he stood up again.

“There we go,” he mumbled, eyes roaming over your form and his lips quirked up, “And I am sure you don’t want to stay here in these wet clothes, little one. I think I might have a shirt back in the car that you could borrow. Sound good?”

You smiled, “very good.”

Boba smiled, one arm wrapping around your waist as he guided you out of the bar. The other patrons were so busy with the game they did not even notice you leave.

The front of the bar was completely abandoned and you smiled when he led you into an all-familiar alley. “Keep it in your pants, little one,” Boba joked, passing the spot where he had first thrust inside you, “I’m not gonna fuck you against this brick wall again.”

Your shoulders fell, “Why not?”

“Because there are so many other places I want to fuck you first.”

“Oh?”

But Boba ignored your very obvious interest in that line of conversation as he led you to the parking lot at the back of the building. Much like the bar, there were a few cars there but it was not too crowded which meant that you recognized Boba’s truck immediately, your steps speeding up the closer you got.

The headlights lit up as he unlocked it and you smiled when he passed the driver’s door and instead opened the back door.

“Not to forget the secret wish a little birdie told me,” he smiled, settling himself in the back seat, already fiddling with his belt.

You hiked your dress up, “Which is?”

Boba grinned wolfishly, clearly happy with how the evening had progressed and his warm hands found your hips, pulling you on top of him. You looked down to where he was freeing himself from his briefs, thick and heavy and already leaking precome.

“That someone would very much like to be fucked in her sleep,” he revealed, a knowing look in his eyes and once again Boba Fett managed to fluster you, “but you did not expect me to say that now did you?”

“How did you know?” you asked, softly gasping when his hands once again pushed the neckline of your dress out of the way before pulling down the soft cups from your bra, revealing your tits to the cold night air.

“A hunch,” he shrugged, “That and the fact that you were begging me to fuck you by the time you were half asleep,” his fingers rolled your nipples between them, “I believe your exact words were I don’t mind if I wake up with your cock inside me, Sir.”

Both embarrassment and pleasure coursed through and you threw your head back, “Oh stars.”

A loud groan left him when your wet folds rubbed up against his shaft. “Fuck, little one, don’t think I will last long tonight. Not like that.”

But you did not let him deteriorate from your mission. With one hand supporting yourself on his shoulder, the other pumped his cock, keeping him steady so that you could sink down in him in one go. You wanted all of him and you wanted it fast and hard.

“I don’t need to come, Boba,” you replied breathlessly, working yourself onto him, “I – I just want you to come inside me, please. W-Want you to fill me up again so I can feel you tomorrow.”

The sound he let out was beautiful and you let your hands drift over his shoulders down to the fabric that was covering him. You lifted yourself up in the process, relishing in how thick he was inside you, how he seemed to rub against your walls in only the best way, before sinking down again, the sudden movement causing a slapping sound.

Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, your hands roamed over his chest and belly, exploring his tattoos. Boba moaned, his hand squeezing your tits and massaging them roughly, sometimes venturing to circle your nipples and pull them just how you liked it.

“Feel so good,” he brought out, his hips starting to meet yours and you lost your rhythm, simply letting him fuck up into you, “Tightest little pussy just for me.”

You buried your face in his neck, whining at the way he kept using you to get off. Shit, you knew you would not come again and yet there was something so very hot about Boba for once only being concerned with his pleasure.

A broad hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you away from him until you were face to face. “Look at me,” he ordered breathlessly, his eyes glassy and you leant forward, kissing him as hard you could. With every thrust, his cock seemed to reach deeper inside you and your clit rubbed against his belly, more or less accidentally stimulating you.

“You really just want me to come inside you, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand tightened, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Say it.”

“I just want you to come inside me,” you squeaked out, your “Please, I just want you to come inside me. Just use me. Please use me. Pleasepleasepleaseplease –“

He surged forward, teeth clashing against yours and his hips snapped up even harder. He was close, you could feel it in the way he hardened inside you, how his hand tightened around your neck and how his breathing became shallow, dark eyes locking with yours.

And then he came.

The car windows were foggy and your eyes rolled back in your head when the feeling of his seed spilling inside you triggered the surprising third orgasm of the night. You felt warm and full, Boba’s solid body underneath yours the one thing that grounded you in reality.

Catching your breath, you cuddled into his chest, ignoring how his come started to trickle out of you around his cock while Boba gently brushed your back, his lip pressing soft kisses wherever he could reach.

“Thank you for coming inside me,” you mumbled sweetly and grinned when you felt him twitch inside you again.

“Stars, woman,” he groaned, running his hand over his face, “You are really going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

You laughed, “I hope not.”

It was silent for a moment before both of became aware that you were indeed very much in public and that it only needed one patron to come out to notice what you had done. Which meant that, as slowly as possible, you pulled away from each other.

“Here,” he whispered, reaching behind him and handing you a dark t-shirt, “This might be more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, pecking his lips before quickly changing in front of him, “So what do we do now?”

Boba looked down, focussing on re-buttoning his shirt. “I have an idea.”

*

For a moment, you had feared that he would drive you home already.

But that fear dissipated quickly when he turned into the local fast food’s drive-in.

He got each of you a burger and a milkshake and some fries to share, depositing them between your seats. Still parked behind the neon sign of the drive-in, you mostly ate in silence, quickly devouring your food and drinks while smiling and looking warmly at each other.

Neither one of you wanted to address the elephant in the room.

Only when the music on the radio changed from Electro House something to Calm Country go home music did Boba start the car again, taking the route to get you home.

“When’s your flight?” you asked into the quiet, pressing a kiss against his neck. Your heart was still racing in your chest and with the slight sheen of sweat on your skin, you shivered from the cool night air that came through the window you had cracked open.

“Four a.m.” he replied, a large truck passing you, “A buddy of mine is going to drive me to the airport.”

You hummed, looking out the window. You had been so excited for tonight, for good reason too, but now you felt as if the little time you had, had passed way too quickly. You wanted to hold on to him, this, for just a few hours longer but a look at the dashboards clock – 2:30 am – told you there was no that was going to happen.

“Two weeks,” you sighed, slumping against his side, “I’m going to miss you.”

Boba’s hand slipped from the gearshift to your thigh, lightly squeezing your knee, “I will miss you too, little one. Did not think an all-inclusive business trip to Hawaii would have me this hesitant.”

Neither one of you said anything as he kept driving, the city sights soon turning into familiar streets and your heart ached as he pulled into the parking lot in front of your apartment complex. It was completely abandoned and only the street lamp Boba had parked in front offered a little light.

Both of you remained sitting in the car and it calmed you somewhat that Boba seemed as reluctant to let you go as you were.

“Will – will you text?” you asked, turning to the side to face him while your hand already rested on the doorknob.

He looked serious, then, nodding slowly as if getting used to the thought. “Yeah, little one,” he whispered, “I will.”

As you hurried up the stairs to your apartment, confident that none of your neighbours would be awake to see you only in a slightly too long shirt, you wondered if this something between you could be more than a booty call.